Here's my first attempt at fanfiction for this fandom. It's just a little something that got into my head and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down.
I hope you like it and let me know what you think!
I took a deep breath and tried to remember the few good memories I had to calm myself down. I couldn't afford to mess up and so I thought of my father, his smile, our laughter, of Spring, of my bow and arrow, of hunting outside the fence, of those small stolen moments of freedom, of Prim and I and managed to paste on a convincing enough smile as the producer counted down from ten.
I accepted someone's offered hand as they helped me step onto the platform that brought me up. The smile stayed in place and I willed it to reach my eyes.
I was momentarily blinded by the spotlights, and I somehow managed to walk up to Caesar Flickerman as he enthusiastically announced, "Ladies and gentlemen please welcome the ravishing 'Girl on Fire', Katniss Everdeen Victor of the 73rd Hunger Games!"
He took my hand and raised it up victoriously and I managed to pull off a sheepish smile as the audience practically roared as they nearly seemed to fall out of their seats to cheer.
Once the noise died down Caesar looked at me encouragingly," Now, Katniss, how about we go sit down over there and you can tell us all about how you must be feeling right now."
I beamed up at him, completely ignoring every fiber in my being that wanted to yell at everyone in the room for not allowing me the liberty of being able to stay in my room until I was shipped back home where I could forget any of this had ever happened.
I did so and said cheerfully," Of course, Caesar."
He lead me over to a very comfortable looking chair that seemed to swallow me up in the plushness. I crossed my legs as daintily as humanly possible for me. Like a proper young lady, I could hear Effie trill at me in my head.
"So," he said surprisingly kind and gentle," I'm sure we all want to know how you're doing during all of this?"
"Well, if I'm being completely honest..." I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to answer as honestly as possible without accidentally saying too much," I'm feeling a little overwhelmed."
He gently patted my hand," I'm sure you are, dear Katniss, but how are you holding up?"
"I'm fine," I lied and smiled reassuringly to him and the Capital...and most definitely all of Panem," I'm just so happy to be here and so very grateful to everyone here in the Capitol."
"Is that so?" he asked seeming surprised," and why is that?"
"Well, everyone has been so unbelievably kind and generous, Cesar," I looks down shyly," They've all been so wonderful, and I want to thank each and everyone of them."
The audience just eat it all up and erupted into cheers once more as Caesar laughed," I'm sure what they mean to say is you're very welcome."
More cheers of agreement.
"And now to the big moment of the night," he goes on," How does it feel to be a Victor?"
Awful, I think, terrifying, torturous, horrible. I say none of those things and instead beam," Oh, it's incredible! I almost didn't think I would make it and now I'm here...with everyone and I'm so happy."
"I think the big question is," he says as though he were pretending to think," what are you going to do when you get home?"
"Hug my sister," I says without missing a beat," I miss her more than anything."
He places a hand over his heart in a touched way and pretends to struggle with maintaining his composure," I'm positive she misses you, too."
I laugh," Aw, Caesar, you're going to make me cry..."
He gasps," And ruin your wonderful makeup! We can't have that! Can we, folks?"
People gasp and agree with him and I almost drop my fake smile in disgust. Just when I start to forget such shallow people can exist, they-
"Now you go home and take care of you sister, Katniss," he says more sincerely," You've earned it!"
By killing people, I think, but promptly stop as that brings about a whole new bout of thoughts and I can't have that if I'm to keep playing the Capitol's game. Haymitch said to keep it up until get home, I'll be free. He had better not be lying...
"Speaking of earning it, I'm sure it's about that time...let's take a look at the moments that lead up to this one!"
I struggle to keep my eyes on the screen. I don't want to look at the tribute's faces, knowing that if I do they'll stay in my nightmares forever. I have to, though, and I somehow manage to keep from screaming out.
They show me stepping up to the stage. How my slight frame and build made me look pathetic and meek in comparison to other tributes. I see the look of panic giving way to determination and finally to resignation on my face as I do so and it's enough to makes me want to roll up into a ball and stay there.
I see myself during the countdown as I catch sight of the bow and arrows I know are meant for me, and I see the inner turmoil brewing in my eyes. I finally decide to completely disregard Haymitch's advice and made a run for them the second the countdown is over. Along the way I was able to snatch a pack of supplies, as well.
Whoever put together the highlights did me no favors. They showed every single one of my vicious moments. The little ones that ultimately lead up to my ultimate transformation from a normal 15 year old girl to deadly Victor...once more.
They showed me hunting. They showed me skinning the animals, gutting them, and then cooking them to eat. They then showed me hiding up in the trees.
They showed me become allies with a younger girl. Layla, from District 4. I couldn't have recognized myself if it hadn't been for her.
I had gone into full survival mode, and the vicious huntress in me was on full display for all to see. I had never felt more exposed or uncomfortable.
I wanted to block out any and all of my moments with her, but once again couldn't tear my eyes from the screen. She was a year older than Prim and it had been her first Reaping, and I had felt a little responsible for her.
She was too nice, too innocent. She had wanted to go back to her family. She wanted to see the ocean once more. She told me how beautiful it was. As she described sparkling blue water as far as the eye could see I found myself wanting to see it, too. She seemed to be able to close her eyes and find herself back there and for a few moments I envied her for that.
They then show me shooting the boy from 2 in the throat without a second thought after he had managed to stab her in the stomach. She asked me to sing to her. A song that would make her feel like her family was with her, that she was safe, and so I sung the only song I could think of. The song I still sung to Prim when she had nightmares. They show me singing and they include every note.
Deep in the meadow...under the willow...
They showed me promise to win, a near repeat of my promise to Prim. So similar, that it brings fresh tears to her eyes. She made me promise to see the ocean on my Victory Tour and to think of her, and I do so in hysterical tears.
They don't show me surrounding her in blue flowers, to mimic the ocean as best I can in the middle of a forest, but they showed my small breakdown. How I had raced up a tree and given into my instinct to curl up into a ball and cry. I would've screamed, but even so wracked with grief and anger and hysteria I had been able to keep myself in check. If I had screamed, I would've been dead on the spot.
They showed me being brought out of my grief by the sound of the parachute. The moment I saw the bread, clearly from District 4 by the green tint to it, I was able to find a reason to keep going. I had been wracked with guilt over failing Layla, but if the people of District 4 didn't blame me, I might be able to forgive myself someday.
It's every moment after that that I'm displayed in all my glory. Mica and I were the last two tributes and Mica had not been so willing to back down. We made our way to the top of the Cornucopia. He fought with all his might. He had managed to cut me many times. Most notably on the arms, shoulders, and calf. Just watching them happen again almost brings back the cold sensation that had followed as the wounds were exposed to the air. They're so red and bloody and gory that I feel sick, and it's almost comforting that that part of myself isn't completely gone.
I retaliated by using the knife Layla had had on her and sliced his face, arms, and stomach. I'd put up a good fight, but was too small and weak and young. He was big and strong and 16 and seemed to be trained to kill without mercy. Not unusual for District 1. He had finally managed to knock the knife out of my hand when we felt the ground shake. We fought to steady ourselves, but I couldn't and had embarrassingly nearly passed out. I dropped and had been out of it enough to not care what happened to me anymore, but not enough to not know what was going on.
Mica pounced on my weakness, but that was his downfall. He had rushed to finish me off and hadn't noticed the puddle of blood surrounding us. He stepped wrong and lost his footing on the blood-slicked horn and plummeted to the ground. He hit the ground and that was when the mutts attacked him. I don't know how long I waited for the cannon, waited for it to be over so that I could go home.
It didn't happen. Not for many hours. Because this was the climax of the Hunger Games, and the audience expected a show. I just did my best to block it out. I tucked myself into the Cornucopia and tried to block out the snarls, the growls, the howls of pain from both human and beast as Mica took on the mutt pack. I couldn't understand how he could be surviving until I remembered the body armor protecting him from ankle to neck and I realized what a long night it would be. Mica must have had a knife or sword or something, something he had hidden in his clothes, because on occasion there was the death scream of a mutt or the sound of metal on metal as the blade collided with the horn.
The next hours were the worst in my life, which is saying something. The cold and then having to listen to Mica slowly suffer and die a slow and painfully agonizing death was too much for me. I got my bow and arrow and made eye contact with him. He saw me and then he managed to make a sound more dead than alive. It seemed to say, please.
And with that I knew what I had to do. I aimed with more purpose than ever before and made a clean shot. Right through his mouth. As soon as the arrow was shot, I tucked myself back in and flinched as the canon fires.
Then the voice of Claudius Templesmith sounded from above. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Seventy-third Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen-the tribute of District Twelve!"
You see me breathe a sigh of relief. I tried to get up, but instead promptly passed out from exhaustion as the world turned black.
There is a hush of silence among the audience before the promptly erupt into cheers once more and Caesar turns to me and smiles," Now, Katniss, all we can really say is- Wow! Am I right, everybody?"
They cheer in agreement.
"Katniss, I know you've had a shock, but I've got to ask. The moment when you decided to shoot Mica instead of letting the mutts finish him off. What was going on in your mind... hm?" he says.
I take a long pause before I answer, trying to collect my thoughts. This is the crucial moment where I can either challenge the Capitol and admit to wanting to spare him from their cruel form of entertainment or that I just wanted to be able to be the one to finish him off so my actions would be completely understandable. It seems to call for a big, dramatic speech, but alI I get out is one almost inaudible sentence. "I don't know, I just... couldn't bear the thought of... having to wait to get home any longer."
"To your family?" asks Caesar kindly.
"Yes," I say," I miss them more than anything." Caesar signs off and it's over. Everyone's laughing and crying and hugging, but I'm still not sure until I reach Haymitch.
"So?" I whisper.
"You're safe," he answers but then adds, "For now..."
I go back to my room to collect a few things and find there's nothing to take but the mockingjay pin Madge gave me. Someone returned it to my room after the Games. They drive us through the streets in a car with blackened windows, and the train's waiting for us. I barely have time to say goodbye to Cinna, although I'll see him in a few months, when I tour the districts for a round of victory ceremonies.
I'll be given a lot of useless plaques, and everyone will have to pretend they love me, no matter what I've done or how broken I may be now. The train begins moving and we're plunged into night until we clear the tunnel and I take my first free breath since the reaping. Effie is accompanying me back and Haymitch, too, of course. We eat an enormous dinner and settle into silence in front of the television to watch a replay of the interview. With the Capitol growing farther away every second, I begin to think of home. Of Prim and my mother. Of everyone. I change out of my dress and into a plain shirt and pants. I wash the makeup from my face and put my hair in its braid.
Once I'm done I can finally recognize myself once more. Katniss Everdeen. The girl from the Seam. Who hunts in the woods to help her family. Who trades in the Hob. I try and find that girl in the mirror as I try to remember who I am and who I am not. I try but I can't.
My skin is the same olive color, but it is flawless now. Perfectly smooth, polished, and glowing. My hair is still the same black color, but it is too silky, too smooth, and again-too perfect. I look like myself, but the Capitol version of myself. The girl I was before...she's gone. Now the girl in the mirror looks hauntingly beautiful. She is stricken with grief, pain, and loss. Beautiful, which is not how I've ever seen myself, but she is broken. She almost looks dead... but not quite.
When the train makes a brief stop for fuel, I'm allowed to go outside for some fresh air. There's no longer any need to guard me. I walk down along the track and try to push the girl in the mirror out of my mind.
I let my mind think of how everyone will react. How my family will react. Prim, who is so innocent and sweet, is not equipped to have to be near me right now. She shouldn't have to. My mother would most likely react like she alway had. With the cold detachment that I've grown used to since I was 11.
It's not that she doesn't care or love us, it's that she hasn't been able to truly come back completely after she lost my father. I suppose we weren't enough for her to do so, or maybe she just doesn't know how. Whatever the reason, I still know that a small part of me that still longs for her affection, has missed her, too.
I try and think of what I'll be doing now that I've managed to provide for her and Prim for the rest of their lives. I've haven't done anything else but fight to survive. Now, I suddenly have more money than I could ever need or want, a new house in the Victor's Village, and guaranteed immunity from the games. It seems almost too good to be true.
And just as that thought goes through my mind I feel a hand on my shoulder and see Haymitch who has caught up to me. I look at him confused," Haymitch?"
He frowns and immediately gets down to business," We need to talk, Sweetheart."
"What's wrong?" I ask dreading what he's going to say already.
"What do you think is going to happen once you get back on this train and get home?" he asks uncharacteristically quiet.
"That I'll go home and see Mom and Prim again," I say wondering where he's going with this.
"And what else?" he demands not liking that answer by the look on his face.
"What else is there?" I ask completely confused.
"What do you think will happen now that you've won?" he tries once more.
"I don't know...I mentor with you from now on?" he stays quiet and I finally snap," What are you getting at, Haymitch?"
And he tells me everything. About the president's possible plans for me and about Finnick and what they have already done to him. How I could be the girl version on him in the Capitol and how Mom and Prim and anyone else I could ever possibly care about are all going to die if I fail or if I don't do what he says.
I steel myself for the pain that comes with anguish, hopelessness, and grief. The pain that comes from disappointment... but it never comes I guess I've experienced it so often in my life that I no longer feel it. I just feel numb and I somehow manage to mumble out, "Then I can't fail."
"If you could just help me get through this until I get home—" I begin.
"No, Katniss, it's not just this trip," he says.
"What do you mean?" I say, but instantly regret it.
"Even if you pull it off, they'll be back in another few months to take us back to the Games. You are a mentor now, every year from here on out. And every year they'll revisit the 'Girl on Fire' and broadcast the details of your private life, and you'll never, ever be able to do anything but do exactly what they want from you."
The full impact of what he's saying hits me. I will never have a normal life. I will have to be the 'Girl on Fire' forever. The Capitol won't let me do anything but. As for their other plans I have time. They wouldn't do that so soon. They can't. I'm only 15.
"Do you understand what I mean?" he presses me.
I nod. He means there's only one future, if I want to keep those I love alive and stay alive myself. I could be on my way to become the next girl version of Finnick Odair...
I don't have time to truly process this because we have to get back to the train. Before he leaves me, Haymitch gives my shoulder a pat and says, "I'm truly sorry, Sweetheart." He heads back to his compartment, most likely to go and drink himself back into oblivion. I'm tempted, oh so tempted, to join him.
Before he goes I just have one more question," Haymitch?"
He stops and looks at me tiredly.
I hesitate but blurt it out before I lose my nerve," How old was Finnick?"
He looks confused and I stammer out," When he was...when they..."
He frowns and mutters gruffly," They waited a few years...to built up the suspense so around maybe 16."
I feel my blood turn cold and I struggle to not break down into tears right then and there," Oh. Thank you."
I go back to my own room, and climb up onto the bed. I stare into the darkness, thinking about my conversation with Haymitch. Everything he said was true about the Capitol's expectations, and I know that it all rang with truth, even his last comment. He really was sorry for me. I wonder if President Snow will insist I move to the Capitol. If I do, I'll have to face the horrors of the Capitol even after the Reaping and Games are over. I wonder what'll happen to me over the coming years.
I think of Haymitch, they didn't do that to him. He's unmarried, had no family, and has been left to forget his nightmares with drink. He could have had his choice of any woman in the district. And he chose solitude.
Or not solitude— that sounds too peaceful. More like solitary confinement. Was it because, having been in the arena, he knew it was better than risking the alternative? I don't know what I would do if Prim's name on reaping day and I watched her walk to the stage to her death. But as her sister I could take her place, an option forbidden to our mother.
My mind searches frantically for a way out. I can't let President Snow condemn me to this. Even if it means taking my own life. I've always wondered why Victors who appeared to have it all turned to self harm, drugs, and alcohol. Now it doesn't seem so crazy. I think of how easy it would be to just walk away. Give into the hopelessness and just end it all.
But I shake my head to remove those thoughts. It's too early to be thinking of such thoughts so soon after fighting against them in the arena. I have to focus on the now and on the people back home whose fates depend on my giving a good show.
That's all they want, I think. And with that last thought, I give into my sudden exhaustion.
I wake up in a cold sweat, a scream caught in my throat, as images of a gory, bloody, lifeless Layla flash through my mind in the wake of yet another nightmare. I try and control my breathing and it's then that I hear the cheerful knock that can only belong to Effie.
Sure enough she trills through the door," We're almost home, dear! We need to make sure you look perfect! Open up!"
I groan and contemplate ignoring her, but realize the only reason I would stay in bed would be to suffer through even nightmares. And truth be told, I could use a distraction. And so I slowly get out of bed and open the door. She immediately bursts in and goes straight to the closet. She pulls out a light dusty pink dress.
I look at her and am about to protest, but she brushes me off before I can even open my mouth to protest," Oh no, dear. You have to wear it, and that it final."
"Couldn't I wear pants or something?" I asked not wanting to face everyone like this.
She shakes her head and pushes me into the bathroom," Definitely not, Katniss! Now put that on while I try and figure out what to do with your hair."
I close the door with a sigh and put the dress on without looking at myself. It's soft, like butter, and not as over the top as some of the other dresses I've worn. This one could pass as an everyday dress, if I were one to ever wear dresses...except, of course, for Reapings...
I shook my head and pushed that aside and steeled myself for whatever Effie had in store for my hair.
She turned as soon as I opened the bathroom door and made me sit down in front of the vanity. She had turned some kind of tool. I remember my prep team using it to curl my hair for my last interview. Effie carefully curled every strand to perfection.
She then applies some light makeup to my face. Muttering something about finally looking decent again. When I finally look in the mirror I notice I look normal. I don't look anything like I feel on the inside which is good. The less people know, the better.
I manage a smile at Effie and say," Thank you."
She appears surprised but beams nonetheless," Of course, Katniss!"
She must be feeling generous, or my manners might have won me some points because she hands me a pair of comfortable flats instead of heels. I slip them on and then she ushers me out and we join Haymitch.
He looks me over and nods approvingly at Effie. He puts an arm around me, and while he reeks of alcohol the gesture provides some comfort for my nerves.
"Look, Sweetheart," he says seriously," When this train stops you will smile, wave, greet your family, and you will put of the best damn show of your life. This is the first, but it won't be the last, so make it count."
I nod and let him lead me to the train's door leading me to the platform.
I can hear the cameras and people before they even open the door, no that the train has stopped. I vaguely hear Effie say," Smile, Katniss. Smile!"
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and plaster the fake smile that has become almost second nature to me by now.
I hope this was okay. There should be more to come. Please fav, follow, and review!