The sun is not the sun at the capitol. It's as if they have somehow managed to make it a more artificial orange for the sake of making it match with their bizarre little city. I turn away from the window, sickened by the thoughts of them wanting to change everything to their benefit. Example number one, me. I close my eyes and I can almost hear my mother's bitter words, "You are President Snow's daughter, you should posses some dignity". Just then as if I had called her with my thoughts, my mother appears out of the thin air. "Well what a beautiful morning, don't you think Angela?" she asks, her voice full of glee. "For the twentieth time if you keep calling me Angela I will call you Kentia, my name is Janeth" I say with an edge of bitterness I always use when talking to my mother in private. To me she is but the woman who bosses me through life. "Can you believe it?" she shakes her head to herself, "I've told you that here you are Angela Snow and I am mother or mom for casual". "What do you want?" I spit out. "There is an extremely important…., event today and you have to…, attend it" she sounds shaky and her voice has a strong edge. She's, for some strange reason, is breaking down. I still reply, "I'm not going". I through myself on the red bed I've been sitting on all along the conversation. "Oh don't give me that! You are going and that is my last word!" she power walks to the door afraid ill deny my attendance to her stupid little event. "Ugh!" I let out as I swing a pillow at her, of course I don't actually hit her only the door she now stands behind.
My name is Janeth Abernathy, I think stubbornly. I know that to the capitol, I am indeed, Angela Snow, but that isn't my real name. Seventeen years ago my mother wasn't Karol Snow, the young bright eyed latest wife in turn of President Snow. It happened nineteen years ago, my father Haymitch Abernathy was chosen the male tribute for the 50th Hunger Games. He was ripped away of his grandmother the woman that had given all she had to provide him with a better life than most of the kids that lived by the seam. She worked as a 50 year old woman in the mines and during the afternoons both she and her grandson worked passionately in the hob in the only liquor store in the black market. At night after long hours of work, tiered to his feet, Haymitch would walk all the way to town to the tiny candy shop next to the bakery and knock on the back door. Soon after a beautiful, blond belle would open the door to welcome him into a warm embrace. Her name was Kentia Joel, the only daughter of a wealthy town citizen. She ran wildly to him the moment she heard his name called and as she gave him her last words of goodbye she also said "Haymitch I have something to tell you". "What is it?" he sobbed in a muffled voice. "I'm…." and they closed the door and he'd never know he was going to be a father. She watched closely his every move clutching to his grandmother's hand. "He'll be alright", she soothed her, "he's a fighter like a true Abernathy". The old woman noticed that Kentia was jealous of that girl whose name she couldn't pronounce out of fury. The one with the pretty face, the one with the blond hair, the one that Haymitch cried for as he watched her die. He won and came back and they were happy. She moved in with him to his home at the victor village. They got married and she told him she was expecting a child of his. He was happy, but not for long. Soon after a dozen peace keepers arrived at his home while he was at the hob, they took his wife and his grandmother leaving notes at both their houses saying they had been cited to be executed. Haymitch was broken so he ran to the old liquor shop and drank himself sick.
Meanwhile poor Kentia rode a train to the capitol with her husband's grandmother. As soon as they got to their destiny she was called up to meet President Snow. She expected her death, which he wanted to do so personally because of Haymitch's offence. Instead she found a handsome, extremely handsomely rich man who wanted her to marry him. "That all sounds...Extremely nice of you, but you must know that I'm with child" she stuttered. "Then we'll be with child" he replied. She savored the opportunity. She would be rich and famous and her child would be too. Grandma Abernathy was offered to stay and take care of her great granddaughter. Either that or death.
What they didn't consider is that since a district person was raising the child, it would also believe in a district perspective. So here is that child happier than ever now that the capitol was finally being brought down.
Its mid-afternoon and I'm groomed in the capitol style. My mother collects me and she walks me to the elevator. She hasn't stared at me once. "Is anything wrong?" I ask. "No, I'm just…tiered" she answers in a hurry. I reach out to press the button that indicates the elevator to stop. My mother's hand yanks me by the wrist. "What are you doing? That was the ballroom!" I scream at her. "Today our little…meeting is at another room" she replies. There something wrong and I sense it. My mother reaches out coldly to press the button that says Experimental Mutations."Mother what is this…event, of yours about?" I ask calmly trying not to panic. She doesn't answer. "Mother, mom! Where are you taking me!" I yell at her. The door opens and she pushes me out by walking out of the elevator herself. "What the…?" I let out. That is when the syringe hits me.