The Burning Wing
Hey Everyone! this is a sequel to "Like Father Like Daughter". Now things are going to start making sense in this story.
When Katniss pulled out the Nightlock, Blaine had to face the price. Now as President Snow spy, Blaine must report everything on Katniss while following other arrangement. She feels ashamed of herself but doing for a reason, Fear. Can Blaine be loyal to her loves one or will her secrets be revealed that would dishonor her from Panem?
Chapter 1: Dead Heart
I stood in front of five tomb stones belonging to the fallen tributes. There was an area in the cemetery dedicated to the children who died as punishment for their ancestor's actions during the Dark Day. They were kids I once knew and I couldn't do anything. Only watch them dye by fighting to death in survival.
The winter winds blow against the frosted dead land, tossing my hair around. I shudder bringing my grey scarf closer while holding back tears. It was a bad habit to come here to visit the dead. On many days of their birthdays, but today was different. Today was the victory tour and I couldn't understand why I couldn't save those in the past. I wiped the tears away; setting some violas and pansies on the tombstones of Mike, Parsley, Thyme, Josh, and Melody.
"I'm sorry," I whispered and walked away.
A lot has changed since Katniss pulled out the poisonous berries that started a catalyst in history. For the first time since the beginning of Panem there are now two victors. However, the order of balances must be obtains, to which President Snow executed Seneca Crane. It was a week later that his death was announced of a suicide. Doctors proclaimed that being Head Gamemaker was stressful for a young man and was taking anti-depressants. So his death was a side effect from the drugs he consumed. The public believed the story but not everybody. Not those in the Profit Circle. Seneca was a member except he was into control not submit.
Another friend gone from change in the reactionary's entertainment of the Hunger Games. Finnick was willing to visit me for a day to help me coped this information in. Yes, Seneca fancy me more than I consider but he was a good friend. Afterwards, I followed my orders that President Snow gave me, Spy on Katniss. The betrayal of doing this task was disgusting. Spying on the Girl on Fire every day: observing her actions and secrets so Snow could use against her. What I know and reported was that Katniss still hunts illegally, she gives game to the Hawthorne family and on Sunday she goes hunting with Gale Hawthorne. The boy who announced he was her cousin, except Cousins don't kiss each other. Not in a way that of a peck on the cheek. Gale, Prim, and Peeta was Katniss Everdeen weakness.
I felt disgusting for the information I possessed and gave to President Snow. I did all this to protect my father, the team, and Cinna. Cinna was an amazing person who can just make an impression. When I returned a few weeks after the seventy-fourth Hunger Games for a concert tour, Cinna was at the train station. Although he sense something was wrong, he didn't hover. Cinna helped me accomplish my duties as a singer and role model; distracting me from killing Simon to choosing songs. But also what else is special was the gift put in my pocket the last day before leaving. I touched my ear to feel the piercings on the tragus, where two snowdrop earing's stay on. It was impossible to take them off for they were my favorite.
My smile dropped when I enter victor's village to see a car parked in front of the Everdeen resident. A man dress in black exits the passenger seat to open the back door. Fear possessed my existence to see the only source of fear to be in this hell of a district. President Snow came out with an apathy expression and walked up to the house. Quickly I ran back to Haymitch's house and locked the door. My heart pounded against my chest that it hurt while I touched my neck. I still haven't forgotten the capsicum stunt he pulled.
The foul scent exudes my senses bring me back to reality. Instantly my nose wrinkle in disgust. My father refused to let anyone clean this house ever since I moved out and hardly takes care of this place. But now it gotten worst, for he proclaimed himself retired from mentor duties and has a party of filth. Everywhere you walk there were bottles and bottles of alcoholic beverages, dried vomit, and body odor. Walking through the dump into the kitchen to find my poor excuse of a father sitting by the kitchen table, arms sprawled across the surface, and faced drenched in liquor. A snore was heard, a sign that he was still alive.
Nudging him would be no use to wake this old fart. So getting a bucket of cold water and removing the knife he slept with. I dunk the water on top of his head. Instantly he jumped on his feet, knocking down his chair and thrashing about. Being raised by this man, I grabbed his arms and pinned them behind his back while tripping his footing. The kick knocked him back to his senses and he looked around his surrounding then at me. I wasn't in a good mood as I had my arms crossed and glared at him.
"What are you doing?" He sputtered wiping his face with the sleeves of his dirty shirt.
"Getting your sorry ass ready," I spat; walking to the window to open and air out this place.
"What?" He said.
"It's the Victory Tour, dad." I said. "You promise to stay sober for this day."
Realizations crossed his mind. "Why am I wet?"
"What do you think," I muttered. Heading towards the fridge to pull out a hangover remedy and grabbed fresh-bake bread I bought earlier today. "You're forty-one years old and can't take care of yourself."
"Couldn't wake me without giving me pneumonia," Haymitch said passing over a knife. He pulls off his shirt, revealing a sweat stain undershirt.
"I don't think you need help on that, dad." I said and cut the loaf not dosing the blade with white liquor. I gave him a slice and handed him the vial of hangover remedy. Haymitch groaned at the object but doesn't decline drinking it. Once done with the vial, he started chowing down on the loaf. Strange how our victors go: Katniss hunts, Peeta bakes, Haymitch drinks, and I spy. Not a great collaboration of the victors of district twelve. Even when we have our own ways to keep busy while wallowing our past of the Hunger Games.
"Brrr. Those two have a lot of warming up to do before show time." Haymitch announced.
That's right. The audiences will be expecting the lovebirds who won the seventy-fourth Hunger Games. If only those two can look each other in the eye and hold a descent conversation. I chomp on a slice of bread and scowl. If you wonder why I'm such a bitch today was not just the victory tour, but Katniss. She and I haven't been getting along with each other the past few weeks. It started out simple when she visits me on advice on coping and girl talk of training to be etiquette. But we are completely opposites then what other critics would suspect. She was aloof, I was observant. She head forward and I'm self-preservation. She takes risk while I fold the cards. Katniss was never going to cooperate in any situation as long as it is her way.
"Shower, now," Was all I could say before shoving a package fresh clothes that came today from the Capitol.
Haymitch grumble some foul words under his breath and went upstairs to clean up. This was District 12 Victory Tour, and we are not going to mess this up. So taking a deep breath, I exited the house and headed back to my place. It started to snow as the ground was cover an inch of white. My body tensed as I stare at the grey sky.
When I was little I used to love the snow…But not anymore. Not when looking at pure white snow, something that is cold. Something, that not supposed to be stained red. I see the blood of the dead hearted. The children who die in the Tundra Mountains of a cruel arena. The blood I created and split from the innocent and lost.
I sighed; shaking my head and headed back to my house. I enter through the front door to be greeted by a familiar black fur ball and a new grey one. Midnight meow and rubbed himself against my leg followed by his kitten. Let say Midnight was a feline's male that could never reject a cat in heat. But the kitten was his by the eyes and last of the litter. So I took the young female kitten and name her Shiloh.
"Hey you two," I cooed, kneeling down to pet their heads. "Sorry, but you won't be coming with me on this trip. You're going to be at Prims and have fun with buttercup."
Midnight hissed, blocking Shiloh in protected stance. I snickered, such a protective father.
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So here is the sequel to Like father like daughter. I hope you enjoy this story and please leave a review.