A/N: Hello, you guys. This is my first actual posted story, and I hope you all enjoy it. I try to think outside of the box, but I'm hopeless at it. However, I haven't seen a story like this before in the Hunger Games. This is completely Moolight7's idea, and I'm happy to say she wants me to have it and revise it. She doesn't care for it anymore, and I hope she writes more soon... I have redone the first chapter, and I made it much longer... Anyway, I will now shut up and hand it over to you readers/peepers.
Disclaimer: Though to my sadness, I do not own the Hunger Games. Or any of the well-developed characters in it.
Excuse my horrible Grammar too...
I am now eighteen years old. I won the 74th Annual Hunger Games along with Peeta Mellark. And we were saved from the 75th Annual Hunger Games. I led the Rebellion, and helped to take down the Capitol. And while I took President Coin's life from her, she took my sister's life from me. I am the Mockingjay. I am the Girl on Fire. But I am also only Katniss Everdeen...
The room District 13 presented to me after the rebellion is quiet and glorious, similar to the old Capitol's rooms. The pit-patting of the rain against the window seal blossoms into a dark life, a life telling me that the night will not be a good one. Lately the rain has been the most peaceful of events.
Peeta lies at my side, on my half-made-half-thrown bed, caressing my dark hair as I lean against his warm body. His blue eyes glare toward the ceiling, thoughts masked by an enigmatic gaze. His brow furrows, and it's clear he is thinking truly long and hard.
I lower my eyes to stare at the door, partly hoping for someone to come in. So they can end the peculiar silence that came so easily now. I'm greeted by a simple flash of lighting illuminating a petite portion of the doorway, and, low and behold: a crack of thunder.
I'm just about to ask for Peeta's thought when he speaks, "The Hunger Games are over for us." He whispers, turning his head slightly so he faces me. "Real or Not Real?"
Real? Are they really finished or is it another one of the Capitol's ways of manipulation?
The Capitol wouldn't have given up so easily, even if Snow was gone. One man isn't the world. I remember the sight of the deaths I saw as we attempted to take Snow and the Capitol down. Finnick Odair's, Boggs's, Prim's, and many more. So many more. It took a lot to get here, and in the conclusion we ended up with the deaths of friends and the continuation of the Hunger Games one last time.
Peeta was right, by agreeing to continue the Games we went right back to where we had started. We were like a smaller version of the Capitol, with so much less power and control. Though, we could always dissemble the Reaping - it wasn't until the next week anyway. Everyone watches the Capitol updates, only one telegraph could get all of Panem to know about the abrupt end.
But there's always the reason as to why we made the decision.
I take a swift glance at him and turn away when I see him waiting for an answer. The right answer. "I can't say," I tell him. "…but they are over for us and if not, we'll find a way out."
Because we always do, I think, even when I clearly know that we never do.
Peeta looks a bit quizzical, like he realizes I'm simply trying to make things better than what they really are. Right, he is.
Haymitch hastily swings the door open, making it crash into the wall, and for a moment I actually believe that the door would fall apart. Just like Haymitch to make such an entrance.
A knock would do you some good next time, Effie Trinket would say.
But that would never be my reply to Haymitch.
The drunk immediately sweeps the door back and locks it intensely; as if he was afraid someone completely unwanted would enter my room sometime soon.
Like Effie herself.
"Good news," Haymitch somewhat shouts drowsily, making his already intoxicated body even more insane. "And not so good news." I half-expected his yellow smile to fade, but, like always, it doesn't.
He's always the one with the bad news. I start to wonder if he actually enjoys breaking to us the information we would so obviously not like. It may be some form of happiness or completion…
"You've stopped your drinking habit?" Peeta guesses dully, aware of no liquor bottle in our old mentor's hand.
I was surprised to see Haymitch manage a hard smile that looked as if it was going to kill him. It's a rare occasion when Haymitch smiles, out of happiness not deviousness, his Hunger Games put him through a lot. He was the winner of the 2nd Quarter Quell where he had to go against 47 tributes, twice as much as he would have had to in the regular Games, leaving him with one hand clutching liquor and the other a sharp knife.
"Not so much," Haymitch answers, his grin never falling. "Good News first: You two will have much more time together!"
That's it? No, Haymitch. That's not good or even bad news. It's only average. Peeta and I basically see one another every hour of every day. So, there is not much of a change…
Peeta must be thinking the same thing, for he tells Haymitch, "We see each other all the time, Haymitch. How is anything different?"
Haymitch relieves his smile. And his face slowly transforms into the scowl we've known since forever ago. "Not much of a surprise is it?" No. Haymitch doesn't even wait for an outspoken reply. "Then you'll really get a kick out of this: The Capitol has come to a decision. A final decision. Over that little stunt a couple years back."
Super, I think to myself, the Capitol is still not over the trick with the berries. The same trick that got District 12 burned to the ground, the one that killed our friends and family, and the same one that started the big fuss over us. All of Panem knows about the berries. All of Panem knows about us.
All of Panem knows about the Girl on Fire and the Boy With the Bread.
Peeta and I steal a glance at one another. I have a clue as to what is about to come, but why not hope it isn't so very predictable? And while I'm too busy wondering what Peeta was thinking, Haymitch goes ahead and tells us.
"As decreed by Panem's new president…" New? "The act of the Star-Crossed Lovers from District Twelve will…"
A new president that's against us? Another Snow that will take the Capitol and make it into demise? Basically, everything we went through, as opposed to the Arena - twice, District 12's bombing, and the Rebellion, we've failed?
Reality grips me back, just in time to hear the last of Haymitch's speech:
"…The 74th Hunger Games was a hit with the action and suspense. In honor of that, the Capitol chooses to bring them back as not only a punishment, but as this year's Annual Hunger Games."
So, Peeta and I will be back into the Arena, fighting our old enemies, once more to the death.
To those from my SYOTs, I will be on more often. To those who recognize parts of this story, you should know it is based off of Moolight's. To those who are from Tears of Blood, you guys are amazing. And to those who are just now figuring out who I am because this is only my third story, thanks for at least reading this chapter.
The next chapter will be much longer.
