A/N Please review. I do not own the Hunger Games. Please enjoy.
I don't know much about the Hunger Games, none of the kids in my grade do. Our parents have always been careful to keep it from us though I don't know why.
I've tried to broach the subject with mom when she takes me hunting with her. She always gets a faraway look and tells me not to worry my pretty little head over something so ugly.
I asked Uncle Haymitch a couple of times. He always gets a serious look and tells me to be glad that I don't know what it is.
I only asked daddy one time when I was ten. His eyes turn black and he squeezed my tiny wrist until it broke. My scream seem to shake him from his daze only to send him into another. He looked at me and he looked at my wrist. Then, he backed into a corner, slid to the floor, and wept. I had seen him like this only a few times before and my mom was always around to make it better. So I did what she would have; I crawled into his lap and sang like mom would have. Eventually, he seemed to come out of it and he took me to the doctor. When mom asked daddy what happen he couldn't look her in the eye. She just hug him and told him that it wasn't his fault. He couldn't really look at me until I got the cast off and it was months before he was really comfortable around me again. After that we really didn't talk about it again.
There are a lot of things in my family that we just don't talk about. We don't talk about the screams that sometimes wakes me up at night. We don't talk about the days when Mom hides in a closet and we don't see her for a week. We don't talk about why Daddy's eyes sometimes turn black and suddenly Rye and I have to go over to Uncle Haymitch's. We don't talk about why Uncle Haymitch pretends not to hear the crashes and screams next door when we're at his house. We don't talk about the missing things or the bruises that Mom has when we can finally come home (sometimes days later). We don't talk about the phone calls that my parents get once a week that can last for hours. We don't talk about the times when Uncle Haymitch is drunk. We don't talk about why most of my grandparents are dead or why all of my real aunt and uncles are dead. We don't talk about why Mom and Daddy always turn off the TV when Commander Gale comes on. I used to not notice or care when I was younger, but now I really want to know. I sick of not talking and then acting like our family is perfect whenever a camera asks me how life is.
Cameras come every year to film the celebration of the Mockingjay rebellion. My parents always have to make a speech; probably because they can remember the rebellion and because Daddy's really good at making speeches. They always shy away from the camera so it comes and finds me. Uncle Haymitch says to smile and say how happy I am (which isn't a total lie) and that life is great (well I guess it could be a lot worse). I don't know why it finds me so interesting. Uncle Haymitch says it's because I can talk like Daddy and because I have such a pretty face. He says that it makes people forget things like the Hunger Games.
I may not know what the Hunger Games are exactly but I know I hate them. I don't know how, but they are the reason for everything painful in my parents' life. They are the reason that Uncle Haymitch drinks, they are why mom screams at night, and they are the reason why daddy is sometimes lost to the world.
Today is a 'hard day' for my parents. Mom couldn't get out of bed and last I checked daddy was sitting at the dinner table with his head his hands try to 'fight the mutt inside', whatever that mean. I get my little brother, Rye, ready for school myself. Today is the day that I learn about the Hunger Games.
"Are Mommy and Daddy sick?" Rye asks on the way to school.
I think about it for a moment. "No," I say, "They are just having a hard day"
"Why?" he wants to know. His big grey eyes look just like mom's when she's in the woods. Full of light.
"I don't know," but I'm going to find out one day I think to myself.
"But you know everything!"
"Not this time," I say sadly.
"Oh," he doesn't speak for the rest of the way.
"Can anyone tell me about the Mockingjay's rebellion?" The teacher asks and I raise my hand.
"Yes Willow."
"Well, a long time ago the Thirteen Districts rebelled against the Capitol but lost and everyone thought that District Thirteen was destroyed. The Capitol oppressed the remaining Districts and everyone was poor and miserable. Then the Mockingjay lit the spark that inspired the Districts to rebel again. With the help of the not so destroyed District Thirteen, the rebellion was successful and now everyone is happy." I give a nod to signal that I'm done. I love the story of the Mockingjay. Mom doesn't like me talking about her (I think maybe she knew her or something) and daddy always seizes up when I say the name (I can't tell if he loves her or hates her), but I can some time get Uncle Haymitch to tell me about how brave she was during the rebellion.
The teacher smiles, satisfied with my answer. "With the end of the Capitol's reign came the end of something else as well. The Hunger Games. Can anyone tell me about the Hunger Games?" This time no one raises their hands. My teacher sighs and mutters something along the lines of "your parents were supposed to tell you first, that was the point of the permission slip." I remember that slip, Mom wasn't paying much attention when she signed it.
"The Hunger Games," my teacher begins, "were a punishment to the Districts for rebelling against the Capitol. They were… they were death games. Two children, one male and one female, between the ages of 12 and 18 were selected in what was known as the reaping. We will go into the reaping more in the following weeks, but there is one thing that I don't want to be lost on all of you. If it weren't for the rebellion, then all of you in this class would be facing your first reaping today." She quiet as she lets this sink in. Kids my age competed in a death game? What type of sick world was it? Then it occurred to me, my parents had to go through the reaping. Maybe that's why today is a hard day. Thank goodness they were never actually selected. The teacher continues. "After the children were selected, they were forced to survive in an outdoor arena while hunting and killing each other. There was only ever one winner. These games were televised and everyone was required to watch. Now there were 75 Hunger Games before they were ended. We are going to watch the last two Hunger Games and scenes from the rebellion. If what you see is too much for you then you may tell me and we will discuss it with the school counselor." For some reason it seems as if she's looking at me as she says this, "I know questions are generally encourage, but this time I ask that you save all questions you have for your parents. Also, in the coming weeks we will go into a more in-depth discussion about the Hunger Games, the Old Capitol, and the Rebellion. For now just sit quietly and watch. Keep in mind that your parents had to watch this every year, and they were watching people they knew."
The teacher turns down the lights and starts the film. They start with the reaping in each District starting in District one. I watch as children of all ages are reaped. One boy has a limp and another little girl is so small that I wonder if she is really 12.
Then they get to District Twelve. A woman with large hair and bright colors is introduced as Effie. I wonder if my Aunt Effie knows her because there is no way that they are the same woman. I think about Aunt Effie, yes she is a bit eccentric and obsessed with manners, but I have never met someone so genuine. This woman is to colorful, to happy, to fake to be my Aunt Effie. The mentor and past victor is introduced as… Uncle Haymitch? He won the Hunger Games? That would explain those 'memories' that he sometimes drinks away. New Effie pulls a name out of the girls bowl:
Primrose Everdeen
I gasp and look at my best friend, Daniel, who is sitting next to me. This is Mom's sister. Aunt Prim died in the Hunger Games. No wonder Mom is still upset about it, I couldn't imagine losing Rye like that, having to watch him die. I watch my Aunt walk towards the stage. She looks so small, she'll be killed by those bigger kids for sure. Then I hear a familiar voice shout 'I volunteer as tribute.' The camera changes angles and I watch as Mom takes her sister's place. Mom was in the Hunger Games? But she's still alive. How? Does that mean that she killed people to win? But the shocks aren't over. Effie pulls a name out of the boys bowl:
Peeta Mellark
The teacher shhhh us before I can ask my question. How can both of my parents be in the Hunger Games? There was only one winner. But both my parents are still alive. Everyone is staring at me now. I can't wait to get home.
Next, we watch the opening ceremonies. All the tribute are paraded in costumes in chariots. My parents' costumes are the most stunning. Even in the class everyone gasps. My parents are literally on fire. Mom is all smiles and waves, which is weird, she's never friendly. They call her the girl of fire.
Then there are their training scores, which predicts how well the tributes will do in the arena. Daddy gets an 8 which is good, but then Mom gets an 11. What did she do to get that?
After that comes the interviews. Mom looks unreal in her dress, but Daddy is the real show stopper. He tell the interviewer that he loves Mom. He sounds so heart broken and people start calling them the star-crossed lovers.
Now, the games begin. I spend the rest of the day watching my parents fight for their lives. The games were a horrific thing, my parents did horrific things. I thought they were going to die so many times, which is ridiculous considering that I know that they're at home. Mom is better than Daddy. I only counted five times that she might have died. First, she almost died of dehydration, second was when she was treed by the biggest kids (who teamed up, a stupid thing to do in a game where only one could win) and Daddy (why the heck did he do that, even if he didn't really love Mom it just seems wrong to go against her so blatantly), third was when she was attacked at the feast (thank goodness the other boy saved her in order to thank her for helping the little girl), fourth, was when the mutts attacked (what type of sick mind thought those things up) lastly was when she and daddy held those nightlocks in their hands, nothing came closer to killing them than those berries. Mom didn't do that out of love, I could tell. She did it because she was mad that the Capitol played with her. For the first time, I think about the Mockingjay. I know she was from District 12 (it's a big source of pride for our district), that she was a teenager at the time, and that she liked to use a bow; but I always thought that she died in the rebellion. I mean, I never seen her on TV and everyone is always going on about how much she sacrificed. But…what if she didn't die?
It honestly hard to believe that Daddy survived the Hunger Games. If it weren't for Mom, he wouldn't have. He fought strongly during the blood bath, easily fending off the weaker children. His silver tongue is helpful in convincing the bigger kids to let him join them. After that, he spends the rest of the games relying on Mom to get him through. He almost died the first time he got his leg cut, then he almost dies from poisonous berries (this is an act of ignorance, not an act of rebellion), and finally, he manages to get his leg injured again (now I know how he lost it). One thing that I have always known is now painfully clear, if I want to know how to sweet talk someone ask Daddy, if I want to know how to survive, ask Mom.
Then there is the killing. I never thought that Mom and especially Daddy could be capable of that kind of thing. Mom once told me that the need to survive can drive people to do things they never thought that they could. I think back to when Mom was first teaching me how to use a bow. She made me swear that I would never point my arrow another human being. I asked her what I should do if I had to do that. She looked me in the eye and told me that too many people died so that I would never find myself in a situation where that was true. I didn't know what she meant and I was too afraid to ask. I understand now. But then again, even in the Games is it really okay to kill. I understood that is was necessary, I know that I wouldn't go down without a fight either. But, wasn't that just playing the Capitol's game? Suddenly it hit me exactly how important the berries were. Mom didn't play their game. She took away their power. She made them look weak, she made them look defeatable.
As I walk to pick up my brother, I wonder how I am going to face my parents. I no longer know who they are. How can the hands of people who taught me how to string a bow and knead bread be the same hands that fought and killed? I understood that they weren't bad people, but I still didn't know how to describe them anymore. They are strangers now.
I look down at Rye, would I volunteer for him. I would like to think I would. I would not want to win though. I wouldn't want to live with the memories and the guilt. How on earth do my parents do it? When we reach home I reach a decision, my parents don't like us to be in the house today anyway. I take Rye into the woods and we spend the night in the cabin by the lake. The sound of the woods, once so comforting, now make me jump as images of those games play in my head.
I'm awoken by the rising sun. Normally, a new day fills me with gitty joy as I think of the unknown mystery of the day. Now, the unknown fills me with trepidation. What new horror that my parents lived through am I going to learn of today. What new images am I going to get seared into my brain?
I watch as my parents once again enter the games. It's different this time, you can feel the unrest. During the interviews, it is clear that the victors are fighting back. Each victors' sentiment adding the unrest. I watch as my mother becomes a mockingjay. My worst fears and greatest dreams are realized, my mother is the Mockingjay. I am at a loss for words as the class stares at me. It is my Father that blows everyone away though. My mother is now pregnant. That word plays around in my head, was I not the oldest sibling. My father once told me that the best way to move anyone to action is to tell the truth about how you feel. Is that true in this instance.
My parents fight in a game more brutal than the last with each hour bringing a new horror. How could a human come up with something so violent and how could other humans actually enjoy it. The ending is the most confusing. My mother shoots an arrow at the sky and the world goes dark. For a moment there is silence. In modern ancient history we learned about a shot heard around the world and how that shot changed the world forever. This was our shot and my mother was the one behind it.
After a few moments, a narrator comes on to explain that victors Beetee, Finnick O'Dare, and Katniss Everdeen were rescued from the arena by District 13. Victors Johana Mason (Aunt Jo?), Anne, and Peeta Mellark were captured by the Capitol. I am dreading what I will learn tomorrow.
When I reach the front of my house, I cannot go in. I cannot face the strangers. I tell Rye to tell my Mother and Father that I have decided to spend the night at Daniel's house. I run off before he can say anything. I run to the woods and clime a tree only to fall out as images of my Mother in a similar tree wash over me. I keep running but I am no longer in my woods, I am in the hunger games being chased by my parents. The scenery changes between jungle and forest. Suddenly, I run into a force field just like my father did. They are on top of me instantly. My father holds me flat as my Mother shoots an arrow into my head just like she did to the boy from District 2. I wake up on the ground next to the tree I fell from, my head is killing me. I think I hurt my ankles but I don't care. I need to get to school.
When I get there, Daniel is waiting for me.
"Are you okay?" he asks me.
Am I okay? I have just learned that my parents are nowhere near who I thought they were and I'm about to learn more horrible facts. Am I okay? HA! "I'm fine why do you ask?"
"Why do I ask? Willy, you are wearing the same clothing you were to days ago, you're covered with dirt, your hair is matted, you smell horrible, you're limping slightly, Ryes says you've all but stopped talking, I bet you haven't eaten or really slept in two days, and your parents haven't seen you since two days ago. If this is too much for you then I think you should tell the teacher, I'm sure she'll understand."
"NO!" I say a little too forcefully, "No, I can't. I just have to know how it ends. I need to know that it's okay."
"Okaaay." He drawls out, seeing the desperation in my eyes.
Today is by far the worst. In the beginning my mother seems dead and loss to the world. A narrator explains that the loss of Peeta to the Capitol broke her. Then comes my father's first on air special. Some of the children in class boo him for what he says. I don't know how to feel until the narrator explain how the Capitol forced Peeta to be their mouthpiece. My mother decides to become the Mockingjay in order to save my Father. She is strong and brave and devastated all at the same time. It is clear how she inspired a nation to revolution. My father looks worse and worse with each interview. In the last one, he warns District 13 of a bombing and is swiftly dealt with on screen. I throw up bile into a garbage can and the teacher pauses the tape. Thank goodness I've inherited my father's sliver tongue and I am able to convince her to let me stay. This was a mistake.
Next up is the rescue. This is compose of dark and shaky images, you can't really see anything. Then comes the reunions. Finnick and Anne look over the moon to be together again, why have I never met Finnick? Then come my parents. My mother runs through the hospital like a wild woman, but when she gets to my Father's room something is clearly wrong. My father lifts his arms to her, but his eyes are filled with hatred. My mother misses this though and runs to him. He puts his hands around her throat. They try to rip him off her but it doesn't matter, my mother grows limp and I run from the room.
The pain in my ankles is horrible, but I pay it no mind. I just need to run. I run until I find myself at Uncle Haymitch's house. I run inside and straight into my Uncle's arms.
"Hey sweetheart. What are you doing home so early and why do you look like hell?" He asks with concern.
"My Father…choking….tried to kill my Mother," I say barely able to get the words out.
"You saw it in school didn't you." It wasn't really a question. "Come here, I want to tell you a love story."
I can barely walk to the couch. When I get there, Uncle Haymitch tries to get my boots off but gives up when I scream bloody murder. He settles with getting two ice packs from the kitchen and setting them on me. Then he sit across from me and proceeds to tell me a story that I will never forget. A story of two people who truly were star-crossed but fought fate. I understood so much now. My parents struggled so much that I could do nothing but admire their strength and courage. I understood why my mother had nightmares and my father episodes. I understood how hard the fight every day to be there for me, Rye, and each other. I still didn't trust them though, not really. Why couldn't they tell me this themselves. I got that it was a painful memory, but it was painful for me to have to find out this way, from everyone else. I still didn't know them any better than my classmates did.
There's a knock at the door and panic over takes me. "Please Uncle Haymitch, I don't want to see them yet. I want to stay here tonight."
Uncle Haymitch gives me a hard look, "Just one night. Then you go home and you talk to your parents."
I nod my head vigorously. Uncle Haymitch sighs and walks to the door.
"Oh Haymitch have you seen Willow anywhere. We got a call from the school saying she ran out of the class room," I hear my Mother's panicked voice.
"Quit your worrying sweetheart, she's here and is…" he turns to glance at me, "… relatively okay."
"What do you mean 'relatively' Haymitch," my father's voice booms, "just give us our daughter."
"Well she's not particularly keen on seeing you right now. I told her she can stay here for the night and go home tomorrow."
"Why doesn't she want to come home?" my mother asks accusingly.
"Well it's probably because she just spent the last three day watching her parents do things that she didn't even know they were capable of. Ending with watching her father try to kill her mother."
"What?" my father's voice is hoarse.
"That's right lover boy the girl knows everything. You really screwed up this time. She should have been told by the people she trusted most."
"We were thinking of telling her but we did-"
"Don't give me bull about your mental state sweetheart, I talked to the doctor and he said that it would probably help. You have no excuse. Now why don't you give your daughter some space like your always asking for."
The door slams and Uncle Haymitch is in front of me. "You will talk to them tomorrow." He says with finality and he leaves me to sit there.
A little later he asks me if I want dinner, I say no. I feel no hunger. I fall asleep on that couch.
I greet the morning with trepidation. I briefly remember a time when the morning represented the hope of a new, unsoiled day. It was less than a week ago but I feel like it was a lifetime ago.
"Up you go silly willy," Uncle Haymitch said offering his back to me. He walks me over to my house and knocks on the door. It is open so quickly that I have no doubt that my father was waiting by it.
"Willow," my father says breathlessly. He reaches out to take me but I shy away. Hurt is written across his face, but it can't be helped now. I jump off of Uncle Haymitch's back and pain shoots through my legs. I carefully walk into my house and Rye is nowhere to be seen. I sit down on one sofa and my parents sit across from me.
"What happen to you Willow?" My mother asks.
I raise an eyebrow, "I think I should be the one asking the questions."
My mother opens her mouth to say something but my father stops her, "Ask away."
I take a deep breath and I know where to begin. "Why didn't you tell me yourselves?"
My father looks away and then answers, "We were cowards Willy Billy. We were afraid of how you would look at us when we told you. We worried that you hate us and be ashamed. So we put it off until it was too late. Now we realize our mistake. It must have been a horrible shock to have to find out that way. We are so so sorry and we are more than willing to answer any of your question."
I'm taken aback by the honesty and just like that their not strangers any more. I walk over and crawl into their laps like I did when I was little. Now the questions begin. I ask for hours and they answer candidly. When they are finished I admire my parents more than I ever thought I could. I reach up and hug them, "How could you think that I would ever hate you."
"We were being silly little one," daddy says, "now why don't you get you boots off and take a shower, because I don't know what you were doing these past three days but you smell horrible."
"I can't take my boots off."
"Why?" Mom asks.
"I fell out a tree two days ago and I hurt my ankles."
Mom sigh, "Peeta, please get Willow in her bathroom and then call the doctor."
Daddy carries me upstairs and sets me down. Mom helps me get my shirt off and cuts my pants off. She hands me a wet wash cloth and tells me to wipe down. It feels good to get the dirt off. Next Mom tips my head back into the bath, undoes my braid and washes my hair. It is the best feeling in the world.
Mom helps me into my pjs (the pants fit over the boots) and Daddy caries me to bed. The doc comes up to take a look.
"Well there's no way around it, the boots are coming off," she says with finality. She hands me a tongue depressor to bite on, "Hold her down," she says to Daddy.
She carefully unties my right boot, getting a good grip she pulls as hard as she can. The sound that comes out of my mouth is not human and I nearly black out from the pain.
"Oh Willow," Mom says. It's worse than I thought. While the ankle, which has swelled up to an impossible size and is now yellow and purple, is the worse; the rest of my foot is swollen and discolored as well and the toes are bloody.
"Well," doc says not fazed at all, "Time for the next one." The process is no fun when it's repeated. Needless to say the left is as bad as the right.
Doc hands my parents a bottle of pills, "Give her two of these with food, obviously don't let her walk, and bring her by my office first thing tomorrow."
She leaves and Daddy makes me cheese buns (my favorite). After I eat they put me to bed like when I was little. Daddy strokes my hair while Mom sings to me. I wonder how we would tell Rye about the Hunger Games. I didn't want him to find out like I did. But as my parents helped me get to sleep, I started to feel less and less worried
Mockingjay Day feels more significant this year than it has any other year. The day still passes like it normally does. I play all the game and compete in the baking and archery competition (Daddy and Mom are not allowed to compete because they're judges). My parents (well really Daddy) make a speech and then skillfully avoid the cameras. They find me so fast that I am beginning to wonder if they are starting to ignore my parents in favor of me.
"Well if it isn't the beautiful Willow Mellark, congratulations on winning the baking competition. Your cake was absolutely exquisite," the Capitol reporter says with way to much enthusiasm.
"Thank you, I learned everything I know from Daddy," I say politely. Honestly, I'm still slightly upset that I came in second in archery to Rye. He doesn't even like hunting with Mom.
"And a little birdy told me that your 12 this year," her smile is more forced now. It's obvious what she's getting at, she just wasn't sure how to approach it.
I decide to throw her a bone, "Yes! This year, Mockingjay Day has an even greater significance because I finally understand the story behind it."
"And how was it learning who your parents really are."
I give a dazzling smile, "My parents are really my parents. However, I will admit that is was a bit of a shock to find out all that they went through when they were younger. Their story is incredible don't you think."
"And what do you think of people who claim that the trauma your parents experienced and the side-effects of the trauma make them unfit parents."
I give her a confused look this is the first time I have ever be asked anything beyond 'isn't life wonderful', "I would tell them not to judge what they no little to nothing about. My parents are wonderful and I wouldn't trade them wouldn't trade them for the world. Now if you'll excuse me I actually have to get back to them now."
I run over and give them a big hug, how can anyone say that they aren't good parents. They are the greatest parents in the whole wide world.
"Hey apple pie, what was that for?" Daddy asks.
I smile up at them, "I love you and you love me. Real or not Real."
My parents look and each other and then answer in unison.
"Real."