1/3/15

Hi guys!

Readers of The Manipulation Games, I'm terribly sorry that it's taken me so long to post this. For the past couple of days I've been too busy to update. The bonus chapter will be posted tomorrow.

For those of you who haven't read the first story, that's okay. Unlike many sequels, this one can probably be read on it's own. If anything's confusing, just ask. I solemnly swear not to laugh at any dumb questions.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or anything else I may mention.

Chapter 1: The First Signs of Rebellion

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

That's the peaceful sound of nothingness I've been listening to for the past 5 hours. The sound of water hitting the bottom of the little cave on the edge of District 7. And yes, it is the same cave where I first learned about the beginnings of the rebellion. In recent years, it's became my little hiding spot. The place I go when I want to block out the world. And it's really nice, too. Blight picked up on this early enough to know that, when I go here, I want to be alone. And luckily for me, he respects that. It must've rubbed off on him, too, because I've caught him sneaking in here a couple times.

But the thing about this place is that it's, well, really boring. And those of you that know me can tell just how much of a problem that is. I've gotten better at this over the years, but I'm still awfully bad at entertaining myself. Maybe it would be better if Katniss Everdeen actually did something rebellious like we're hoping she does. Then I could dwell on that in a creepy manner.

Which brings me to another problem. I'm still wondering how that old drunk Haymitch is going to pull off a rebellion. If I recall correctly, the first year I mentored he passed out on the floor and stayed there for half the time. He couldn't quite hold his liquor as well as he can now. Maybe he started drinking more because of me and Finnick. I guess he's gained a couple of grey hairs from Cashmere too. But whatever it is we did, I have absolutely no regrets.

Really, I don't.

And of course, that's when my totally useless cellphone decides to ding. If I had it my way, I'd have nothing to do with the stupid thing. But Blight insisted that he needs to be able to contact me at any time, and it was either this or a tracker chip implanted in my ear. This stupid thing was the obvious choice.

I pick it up and read my message. You're about to miss District 11.

Um, does it look like I care? I groan and shove my phone into the pocket of my crimson jacket. I walk a couple of feet until I reach the end of the cave, and when I'm sure that the ground isn't slippery anymore it turns into a run. I may not care, but I guess I do need to see this.

When I reach Ivy's old house the remaining District 7 victors, Pine and Blight, are already gathered in the living room watching the broadcast. Pine's an older man, the victor of the 4th Hunger Games to be exact, with gray hair and brown eyes. He's been wheelchair-bound for as long as I can remember. On the other hand, you could say that Blight looks kinda like I do, with our matching dark hair and a similar rebellious flicker in our eyes. Sure, his eyes are amber and mine are dark brown, but I had to get something from my mother...

Yeah, that's right. Blight's my father. But that's kind of besides the point, isn't it? As far as I'm concerned, it doesn't really matter.

"Took you long enough," Pine laughs.

"You were about to miss it," Blight says.

"So?" I scoff. Pine gives me a pointed look.

"Jo-Jo… he put down the cards."

"Who?" I ask.

"Peeta Mellark," Blight says.

"How am I not surprised? I guess not everyone can be as un-rebellious as Shey, huh? But I guess that's a good thing," I smirk, taking a seat between Blight and Pine. It's not that Shey Bradford, the District 10 girl who won the year after I did, is loyal to the Capitol. Quite the opposite, actually. She's just not as vocal about it as the rest of us are.

"But I feel as if I did know Rue, and she'll always be with me. Everything beautiful brings her to mind. I see her in the yellow flowers that grow in the Meadow by my house. I see her in the mockingjays that sing in the trees. But most of all, I see her in my sister, Prim. Thank you for your children. And thank you all for the bread."

"Thank you all for the bread," I sneer mockingly. "Who does that brainless little wimp think she is anyways! Why does she get to be the figure of the rebellion? Haven't I done enough!"

Blight laughs and shakes his head at Pine. "You never learn, do you Johanna?"

I growl and sink into the couch before paying attention to the screen again. But I pay attention at the completely wrong time. In fact, I'm just in time to see Ryson, the wise old mentor from District 11 who's been my friend for so many years, being dragged up to the stage. I hold in a gasp of horror as a Peacekeeper holds a gun to Ryson's head. Seeder and Chaff watch helplessly as that skunk shoots their former mentor.

"Oh my gosh," I whisper. My eyes narrow at the TV, as if I'm wondering if what I just saw was real.

"This is really happening," Pine whispers.

"What happened?" I ask in shock.

"They… they all whistled and held up their fingers," Pine says frantically. "The same way they did when that little girl died..."

"I have a finger I'd like to hold up," I interrupt with a growl.

"Don't you see? This is finally happening," Blight says. "This… this is just the thing we needed! Maybe this is enough to snap Everdeen to her senses!"

For once, Blight's right. I don't have time to feel sorry for District 11, or Ryson, or his tributes. The rebellion is finally starting, after all these agonizing years of waiting. And I'm more ready than I'll ever be.