The Heart of Panem - A Hunger Games Fanfiction
Because the story is not over yet
Chapter 1 - The Dream
Finnick has been calling for 5 minutes, but I can't stand up. I cannot open my sleepy eyes and just face the world. No. The dark night has come and gone now and while it stayed, with it's outside soothing sounds and calming lullabies, all I could do was think. I thought about long lost dreams, my 15 years of innocence are not spared from long lost dreams. Desires and expectations I wish to one day accomplish, but that I am sure I never will.
My job is simple, go to school hoping my mother doesn't collapse, and then return to watch over her. She was happy once, then she got sad and crazy they say, and, what it seemed to be the perfect cure, made her even worse. She married dad but he never returned. He fought during the revolution and he died in honor. My brother and me inherited his brokenhearted wife. But I love her.
She tells me about their wedding and how it was beautiful and big, she recalls the music and the smell of the cake and then she cries. Their marriage showed the world that district 13 was a happy place, but a place I will never know.
Annie Cresta it's her name and she comes from district 4. Back when the Games spread the carnage and massacre of death, my mother and my father won richness and glory but they also got nightmares and moribund memories. They were never alone or happy again until the day they found each other's hearts.
After he died and when Finnick was just a little brat, mom traveled to the dreamy place of the Capitol, she said "You can't imagine how big and crazy it is. How surreal!" There she handed a capsule with my father's DNA, and that's how she got me.
My dream is to travel and meet all the great places they did, I want to talk with the people and smell the ocean's shore, go to 13, 4, the Capitol... I don't want to be stuck, I don't want to wake up, go to school and return home with always the same purpose, I want to be allowed to dream and fulfill those expectations. But my faith is traced and well designed.
This was the matter I thought about intensively last night but what I didn't know was that this fatal and predetermined idea was going to change, because downstairs a glassy bottle broke in the wooden floor and my mother yelled loudly my name.
KATRI
I followed the hysterical voice and in front of the fire place my mother was lying in her old white dress, Finnick' s hands were bloody and hurt and a man, a tall one, stood there with a perfectly starched dark blue suit. His hair was stiff with such a big amount of gel; his presence bothered me because I knew exactly who was that demanding figure. President Paylor was standing right there in my poor humble home.