I do not own The Hunger Games.
Sorry for the late update.
Enjoy!
The room where I will last see my family and friends, except for Mark, is the fanciest thing I've seen in person for over a year. The room is exactly the way the book described it: velvet, super-plush carpets; and the walls also happen to be made of a deep, brown-coloured wood. But I am not sitting on that couch. No matter how comfortable it looks.
I've been waiting here for five minutes, yet no one has come to see me. Does no one care? Does it not matter to anyone that I'll be dead in a week? Or are my friends just visiting Mark first? Yeah, that would explain it. But where is my family?
And that's when the door opens. My mother and sister walk through the door. But where is my father? My sister, Laura, runs to me, throws her arms around my waist, and buries her face into my chest. She's crying her eyes out, which is probably getting my only good blouse all wet. But do I care? No. I comb through her hair with my fingers and pat her on the back. I look up to see my mother, and she's silently sobbing, her eyes like waterfalls. I open my arms and gesture for her to join us, and she does.
I wish we had more than a few minutes, but we don't. I pull back. My mother speaks first, "We love you, sweetie. And we think it was very good of you to volunteer for Jessica."
"But it was stupid!" my sister yells. I almost laugh, but I'm too sure of my death to enjoy anything. She starts to cry again. "You're gonna die." she says to the floor.
"But you will be fine." I say. I never sugarcoat anything. And I know that I am going to die, so I just said it. Perhaps it will be easier that way. "I'm sure Mark will win. He's sixteen and strong, and since he's from this district you'll get to go back to the real–"
"But I wanna go back with you!" She falls into my arms again and continues to cry. My mother pats my frizzy hair down and smiles sadly at me.
"Catherine, I know what those books said about the victors and all, but don't you want to live? Even if it's a little sad sometimes?"
I consider this, but I know the answer already. I don't want to live knowing that I could never leave this hell and that Mark would probably be dead because of me. I shake my head. We go back into a group hug until a Peacekeeper opens the door and grabs my mother and sister. Laura screams and tries to resist, while I just stand glued to the floor, watching them go. I blow Laura a kiss and wave at her. "I love you guys." My mother manages a smile at me. Then the door closes. That was the last my little sister will ever see of me, and it was so stoic. I wish I was more tender and loving. Stupid personality! Always getting in the way of other people's… well, I can't call this happiness.
A minute later my friends enter the room. All of them are here, except for Jessica. There's Percy, Darla, Phillip, Nellcis, and Trinton. Marclene would be here to but she died of starvation two months after we arrived in Digital Panem, and the scary part was, she was the biggest fan of the Hunger Games out of all of us.
They all stand there awkwardly until Darla said, "Hey, Caths. We, uh, came to see you off." And then Nellcis burst out crying. In silent agreement we all came to group hug and us three girls started crying like babies. Percy, Phillip, and Trinton were upset too and were squeezing us really tight, but we don't care.
After a few minutes, we pull apart from each other. Then they all start talking at once. I hear the words, "win" and "Jessica" get thrown around a few times, but I can't I can't really distinguish what they're saying at all.
I wave my arms over my head like a child trying to get her parents to stop fighting. "Whoa, you guys. Not all at once."
"You've gotta win Caths." Percy says. "Either you or Mark has got to win." He smiles and I ruffle up his hair like he's a little puppy.
"Yeah," Trinton steps forward. "And when you have to wear that stupid, glorified Halloween costume for the Tribute Parade, just hold your head up high and say, 'Back off you jerk-offs! I'm gonna win the Hunger Games!'" We all laugh and it almost seems as if we're just hanging out, until the Peacekeeper walks in. The smiles leave our faces and even Phillip sniffles a bit. "We love you, Catherine." Trinton manages.
"Love you all too." I sadly chirp.
They all exit the door without resistance, except Percy. He backs up saying, "Wait," The Peacekeeper tries pushing him out the door, and by that time he's thrashing wildly. Nellcis has to yank by the arm to get him going. The door closes.
That's when I collapse on the small couch. I break down crying and screaming at the fact that I am going to die while everyone I have ever loved watches. I pull at my hair and stomp my feet to get my anger out at Crimmons for his stupid idea, but it's not enough! How could he ship a whole bunch of people to what is practically another realm and kill off them and their children? He's worse than Hitler. He's worse than Stalin. He's worse than Snow. I don't even know what kind of crap he's done to Richard from District 2. I don't even want to think about it.
"Get off the floor," I hear someone order me. I expect to see a Peacekeeper, but when I look up, I see my father.
I jump up immediately. "Daddy!" I fall into his arms and continue to weep. He pats down my hair and kisses me on the head. "I thought you weren't coming." I mumble into his jacket.
He pushes me back far enough to look at me. "Why would you think that?" he asks. I shrug. His face takes on a serious expression. "Now you listen to me, you are going to win those Games."
"But, Dad–"
"No buts. You kill as many of those tributes as possible. I want you coming out alive. Not in a wooden box." I stop crying out of shock. My parents had raised me to be caring and not to hurt people. And now my dad was telling me to just kill a bunch of people? What is happening?
"But what about Mark?" I feebly mumble. I can't kill Mark. I'd end up crazier than Annie Cresta.
My dad seems to consider this, like actually think about it. After a minute that felt like hours he finally says, "You can let someone else kill him." I give a strangled gasp, but my father doesn't even flinch. Then his expression changes, he looks like a loving father now instead of a war general. "I love you, Catherine. I hope you live."
Not believing what I'm hearing, I numbly give him a hug and say, "I love you too." Then he leaves, without even being told to leave by Crimmons' minions. I stand there dumbfounded for a few minutes until two Peacekeepers escort me out. They lead me out of the Justice Building and eventually I meet up with Mark and his Peacekeepers. I don't dare to look at him. Marie starts to walk ahead of us then and she takes us to train. We walk up the steps and then rush to the windows. All I can see is the beat up District 12. No family. No friends. Just the backdrop to this perfect day.
After arriving on the train, I was sent to my room. I've been here for three hours. I went through all the drawers in the room, except the locked ones. I found tons of clothes, most of them quite stylish actually, but I didn't change into any of them. I didn't even change into the shoes in the closet that I found, even though those actually fit me unlike the only shoes I own. I passed out on the bed for an hour and woke up screaming from a nightmare I can't remember. Then I threw all the vases in the room at the window, seeing if it would break. It didn't. After that I started crying again. Then I tapped Morse code on the wall to see if someone would answer. No one did.
I started practicing as much Kung Fu as I could remember from the real world about five minutes ago. I set up for the dropkick. I take a step, jump, and plan on kicking my imaginary opponent, but end falling on and twisting my ankle instead.
I just sit on the floor helplessly for a few minute until a Peacekeeper walks in. I back up against the wall farthest from him, but he comes over to me wordlessly anyway and hauls me up by the arm. He drags me through the door, the hallway, a few more doors, and finally pushes me down onto a couch. Seconds later, Mark walks through the door and plops himself down next to me. The rude Peacekeeper that manhandled me leaves the room. I turn my head to look at Mark for the first time since we were reaped. He looks completely aghast. His eyes are bloodshot, his lips are cracked, and he's extremely pale. But of course, he's more worried about me. "You okay?" he asks.
The sarcasm just starts spilling out of me. "Oh, I'm fine. I just had what was left of my life torn away from me and got harassed by about six Peacekeepers. But I think I'm still up for that movie you wanted to see."
He shakes his head. "Yeah, we were gonna see a movie the Saturday after the Reaping of the Schools, weren't we? We even pre-ordered the tickets." He gives a short, bitter laugh. All that is true, and now I wish I hadn't brought it up.
"Yup. What a waste of twenty bucks." I remark. He wraps me in a tight hug then, and I really need it. I can't go on hugging myself forever. Or at least, for the next week at the most. I bury my face in the crook of his neck and force myself not to cry again.
When we part we see Mr. Jenkins, our school's discipline dean, sitting in a chair across from us. "Hello, Mark. And…" He looks at me pointedly because he still can't remember my name. I used to get sent to his office nearly every week and he still can't remember my name? I'm surprised I didn't get expelled. I wish I had got expelled.
I sigh in exasperation. "Catherine. My name is Catherine." And this guy is going to be my mentor? I'm so going to be a Bloodbath.
"Right, Catherine." Mr. Jenkins says. "Mark and Catherine. My two tributes." He smiles at us, but it's not very reassuring.
"So," Mark leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. "Any advice?"
Mr. Jenkins scratches the back of his neck, and squints his eyes in effort to come up with anything intelligent to say. I personally think that he's got nothing, but then he surprises me. "Well, you want to stay away from the Cornucopia. All the tributes want to take out District Twelve first because of what happened in the books. You want to go to high land, try to find a water source nearby, and be able to kill things, like squirrels and ducks, or, you know, other tributes." That's when it really hits me. I'm going into the Hunger Games. I have to live off whatever freak environment Crimmons sends us to for a few hours, or hopefully days, and then die. I have to kill other people. I can't even kill bees!
Mark pokes me on the arm. "Are you okay? You look like you're gonna throw up." I just barely nod my head before I grab the ice bucket and, he guessed it, throw up in it.
I gingerly put the top back on it and put it on the floor, "Yeah," I say quietly, "We're gonna need some more ice." I hear Mark laugh, but it sounds distant, like we're underwater. A horrible pounding starts in my ears, and I begin to wonder if we really are under water. I hold my breathe, just in case. Black spots dance in my eyes, and I feel like I'm falling, falling, falling. . . .
And then the carpet, the walls, the couch, they all go black.
My eyes open. There's a man in a lab coat standing over me. I start to wonder about what's happening. Maybe he's a mad scientist and I'm his test subject. Maybe he sent me through a stage of horrible hallucinations, and I just imagined Digital Panem. Yeah, that makes sense. I'm probably just at the science lab at school, and I'll go home in a few minutes. Yes, this all makes perfect sense.
"Well," the mad scientist says, "Look who's finally awake. You've been out for about a day. You didn't take any drugs, so I'm quite curious as to how you managed to pass out for that long. Do you have some sort of medical condition?" He goes on asking questions and making comments for a while, but doesn't stop for me to add anything. His rambling begins to annoy me.
I interrupt his thought on my drinking problem. "Uh, can I go home now?"
He gives me an amused look. "Oh, I get it. You thought that if you managed to nearly kill yourself, we'd let you go back into Reality." He laughs, as though something is funny. "That's cute. Anyway, we'll be arriving in the Capitol in a few hours."
After he turns around and leaves the room. I realize that I'm in my room on the train. Which means that Digital Panem is real, and I will not being going home. This has by far been the biggest let down since I got on this death mobile. I sit up and get out of my bed. And then my arms get really itchy. I try scratching at them, but if feels like I'm scratching plastic. When I look down, it turns out that I am, in fact, scratching plastic. Both my arms are covered in patches. Each patch is a different colour and says nutritional patch on it. I pull off the pink one first. A thousand pinpricks seem to be pulled off along with it, but it doesn't hurt too badly. It leaves a big red square behind on my skin, but I'm not bleeding. I pull off the blue one next. Then the green one, then the orange one. After my arms are free of the patches, the floor near me looks like a plastic rainbow that got shot out of the sky.
The door opens, and Mark comes in. "Hey," he says. "You're up." He smiles, but then he frowns when he looks at the littering of plastic at my feet. He points at the patches. "What are those?"
"They're nutritional patches. They were on my arms when I woke up. Anyway, what happened?"
He shrugs. "Don't know. One minute you were fine, the next you were unconscious. It was a little scary frankly." He walks over to me and throws his arm around my shoulder. "I thought I wasn't gonna have an ally in the Games."
"Oh, gee. Thanks for your concern." I remark. He squeezes my shoulder and leads me out of the room.
We go to the room where I passed out yesterday and sit down at the dining table. On one of the trays at the center of the table I see a gourmet sandwich. I suddenly become very hungry. I grab the sandwich and begin to scarf it down. After about a minute, all that remains of the submarine are a few measly crumbs.
I hear a sound of disgust. I look up to see Marie frowning at me wryly. She wags a bleached finger at me. "A lady should not eat in such a fashion." I roll my eyes at her, because really, who needs an etiquette lesson approximately four days before they die?
Mark begins to laugh hysterically. He falls out of his chair, and pounds on the floor with his fist. I begin to laugh too, but I end up snorting instead. This only makes Marie look at me with even more disdain, and that ends up making me shriek with laughter.
"ENOUGH!" Mark and I look up to see who roared at us, and are disappointed to see a seriously ticked off Peacekeeper. Mark gets up off the floor and sits back in his chair. He takes my hand.
The Peacekeeper's next words chill me to my core. "We've arrived in the Capitol."
