Ahh! I forgot to include author's notes on the first chapter… sorry about that… so anyway, for those of you who are here… welcome to my first ever story! You probably know what this story is going to be about so… yeah… I really don't know what to say. Oh yeah. I. personally, unlike many of my friends, LOVED Mockingjay. It has been accused of "not making sense" (yes, my friend really did say that, horrible I know ;) ) but I feel all defensive of it since I loved it and was one of the only people that did.
Anyways… I would LOVE reviews so I know I am not just writing to the invisible fanfiction ghosts.
CHAPTER 2: The Mentor
My ears pound, my vision swims, my heart drops. No. I must've heard wrong. But when I don't move, and all the heads the crowd slowly turn in my direction, I know it's real. I try to move, but I can't. I feel a hand on my back give me a little push, and I slowly begin to walk up to the stage. My legs feel heavy, and nothing feels real. I feel detached, like I'm watching some unknown girl walk up to the stage. But it's not. Its me. I look up at the screens lining either side of the square. My face is sheet white. Like a ghost. Or a corpse. I think how in a matter of days, that may be my exact fate and almost black out again. But I ball my hands into fists and dig my nails into my palms. This is by far the longest walk I've ever had to take. And all of a sudden I'm on the stage, not knowing how I got there. I feel a scream forming in my throat, but I hold it back. I blink back my tears and bite my lip. I can't let all of Panem see me cry. The tributes who cry at the opening ceremony are labeled weak in the heads of all the other tributes, just practice dummies to take out at the beginning of the Games. Before the real fun begins. I hear the Capitol representative warble "It's time to choose our boy tribute!" but it sounds detached somehow. I decide I have to pick something to focus on in my swimming vision. I look into the crowd and find my mother. She is sobbing and shaking, leaning against someone in the crowd. I look away, but the sight makes me start shaking too. I am thankful that the moment the representative announces "Jackson Castor!" and Jackson makes his way up on the stage, we are whisked away into the Justice Building. If I had to sit on that stage for one more minute I would have broken down. But once I'm placed in the holding room, it's clear I cant cry just yet. I know there will be cameras at the train station, and I can't show up there red and puffy-eyed. I bite my lip and rub my hand up and down on the smooth velvet couch. I try to make my mind focus only on that one thing, up and down, up and down. It's kind of therapudic. After a few minutes the door creaks open. My mother walks in, followed by a couple of Peacekeepers. Her eyes are red and swollen, but it's clear she's trying to keep her composure. At least until she leaves. Without saying a word, she gives me a tight hug, and it takes all I have not to start sobbing. I don't know how long we stay like this, but it's too short. Because after what seems like 2 seconds, the Peacekeepers are dragging her away. But before the Peacekeepers pull her out the door, she whispers to me "I know you can do it." Her voice cracks, and I shake my head. Because I can't do it. I know I can't. I know what I'm up against. The odds are not in my favor.
The next person to come in is my friend Holly. We have been best friends since we were 3, inseperable. Holly sits down on the couch next to me. Her face is pale, and she looks like she might pass out. She touches my hand, and I close my eyes. Knowing that this might be the last time I see Holly and my mom is too much. I try to say something, but I seem to have gone temporarily mute. Holly gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then the Peacekeepers are back. I look away as they take her out of the room. I can't bear to watch her leave.
The ride from the Justice Building to the train station is shorter than I expected. I watch District 4 blur by out of the window of the car. I can't help thinking I will never see District 4 again. Before long, we reach the train station. The cameras swarm around me, and I know now that I made the right choice not crying back at the Justice Building. I look down, trying to ignore the cameras. I step onto the train, and it's like nothing I've ever seen. I might be in awe if I didn't feel so numb. Dinner sits on a long, mahogany table. Lamb stew, pudding, and many other dishes that look so delicious they could be fake. I sit down at the table next to Jackson, who looks at me with a half-smile, half-grimace. I understand that look completely. We are just about to start serving ourselves when a boy walks in. He is so handsome that for a minute my breath catches in my throat. I know who this is. Everyone does. Finnick Odair, bronze-haired, muscular, charming Victor of the 65th Hunger Games. He is accompanied by a blonde haired, blue eyed young woman who won a few years ago. She lived in the part of the District where the kids stop going to school at age 10 to undergo intense training. The Career section. Finnick sits across from me and the young woman across from Jackson. "Hi," Finnick says. His eyes are a soft shade of sea green. I blush, and look away, embarrassed. "I'm Finnick. I'm going to be your mentor".
Okay, so I have written up to Chapter 10, so if I get reviews I will upload the others, and I am starting 11 tonight so hopefully there won't be a backup…
So… Thank you for reading and… good night? I guess? Even though it's only 7:30? Ahh I don't know what to say ignore my insane ramblings…
REVIEW IF YOU WANT CHAPTER 3! 3