Chapter 2 - The Recap of the Games
For a second I wondered if I were in a nightmare. Screams. Endless screams. Shouts of things I couldn't hear, people crying. Deep blackness. Then I opened my eyes and was temporarily blinded by the stadium lights. When I adjusted to them I saw the screams were not out of fear, but adoration. The unintelligible things that were being screamed were messages to me, messages of love and dedication. People were crying over my win. My gaze shifted to the side and saw Haymitch, Effie, Cinna and the prep team all smiling at me. Suddenly I realised I probably should do something other than stare so lifted my hand in the air to wave and the crowd went nuts. I had never seen anything like it.
"SAM EVANS!" A loud voice boomed from the speakers. I recognised it as Caesar Flickerman's and turned round to see him beaming at me, shiny white teeth glinting in the lights. His hair was green now and it matched the sparkly suit he was wearing.
"Sam! Come on over here!" I walked back towards him, still unable to process the reception I had received. Cinna had been right. The public loved me. As I reached Caesar he shook my hand and then directed me to a huge, incredibly majestic golden throne that I was told to sit down in. It seemed strange – like I was a king. And these were my subjects.
"Well Sam." Caesar said, once the noise of the crowd had died down and they had all begun to pay attention to him again. "What do you make of this reception?"
"It's…" I replied, not knowing what to say, "…it's amazing."
"It is indeed." I let my hands run along the beautifully crafted arms of the throne, the feeling of the smooth metal under my skin soothing. "Well they're all here for you. Sam Evans – winner of the 74th Hunger Games!" Another cheer rang out and I was forced to look into the crowd again. Thousands of people, further than the eye could see. I'd used to think the crowd at the reaping in District 12 was huge. But this. This was something else.
"How does it feel? To finally be out of the arena and on solid ground again?" I stopped feeling comfortable. The next three hours were going to be complete torture for me. Constant reminders of the Games, being forced to relive and even explain things that had happened. To watch every person that I had been up against die on a screen.
"It feels…" I said, not even knowing where to begin, "…it's hard to explain."
"Are you relieved?" Caesar asked, helping me out.
"I guess." I said. "That I managed to survive." It was obvious nothing much of merit was going to be extracted from me at such an early stage, so Caesar moved quickly onto the recap of the Games.
We started right from the reaping. Some of the other districts were featured briefly but most of the focus was on District 12 – I saw Tina's screaming body being hauled onto the stage and then my cool, calm one as I walked up, hands raised. They showed the shot of Stacey again and I gripped onto the golden chair arms tightly, trying not to let my distress show. A little screen at the bottom of the main one would often pop up and show my reaction – I needed to hold on, at least for longer than this. The cameras documented my route to the opening ceremony, watching me being ushered from train to train and seeing Tina often having to be helped by several pairs of hands – one of those usually mine. When the opening ceremony was shown I gasped at how breathtaking we both looked. It was like it wasn't even me I was watching. The transformation from the scared little boy that had tried to stay calm at the reaping to this confident glowing tribute was astonishing, and all in a matter of days. Next came the interviews. I seemed surprisingly calm, given the fact I was speaking for our lives. Nobody else would have even suspected something was up. My line about the pink bugs was played and a couple of the audience chuckled, knowing what was coming a few hours later.
Quickly the glitz and glamour of the ceremonies and presentations faded away to be replaced with the seriousness of the actual event. The cornucopia flashed onto the screen and all of a sudden I was there – I was back in the Games again. Sweat began to pool on my back – I knew this was the moment I would start to see the killings – the deaths of every one of the 23 other tributes.
Tina was first. Even on a screen her death was horrific. They had played me beforehand, screaming and banging on the glass tube, knowing there was nothing I could do. I looked desperate, distraught. As her body parts flew through the air I stumbled forward, disorientated and about to be attacked. A couple of the audience gasped, but I ducked out of the way of Harmony's knife and then turned to see Joe dropping to the ground. This was too strange, too much like I was replaying my life over. After this the cameras cut to the rest of the bloodbath, my stumbling off into the forest not interesting enough now.
Now I finally got to see who had killed who in the bloodbath. Of course Quinn had hacked Harmony to death – she had continued long after I had disappeared until her body was literally a mess of parts in the grass. Puck was ruthless – charging forward and taking out Becky from District 9 without even a sideways glance. Sebastian and Sugar jumped on the girl from District 3, pinning her to the ground and then slitting her throat as she tried desperately to grab hold of a supply pack. The most active tussle came nearer the mouth of the cornucopia. One boy had made it to the weapons – gripping hold of a spear and seeming relieved to have made it this far. Suddenly Puck appeared – his face and body already stained with the blood of his first kill. Their eyes met and the sandy haired boy immediately went to run. Quinn blocked his path and then Sebastian and Sugar appeared the other side. The fear in his eyes made me tremble, like I was actually experiencing it. Puck stepped forward, drawing his sword menacingly, and then they fought. Ducking, swiping, diving – Puck moved closer and closer to the boy, seeing him beginning to falter, the hope fading from his eyes. Then he stabbed him right in the chest. The cornucopia had been claimed. Within a mater of minutes.
It shocked me just how efficient the Careers were. What would have happened if I had joined them? Would I have survived the way I did? Would I have become one of them?
The next person to die was Jesse. His fall from the tree was pretty spectacular – almost snapped his head right off his neck. The girl from District 6 had set up a campfire and made herself an obvious target for the Careers – Puck had been right – it was too easy.
Suddenly they cut to me in the cave. I was dying, desperate for water. It looked pretty pathetic – I was surprised they had shown me like this at all. Then I realised why. Blaine.
It was the first time they had shown him on the screen. I'd found it a little funny that not all of the Career districts had been featured much in the opening features, but now I saw their logic. They had been holding Blaine back and now they wanted to see my reaction. I crumbled. He seemed so strong willed, so commanding in his leadership. The Careers passed by my cave, talking about me – the conversation I had overheard. Blaine scanned his eyes rapidly around the area and now I knew why. He was searching for me, desperately. A pain in my gut began to form, a mixture of longing and regret and soul crushing guilt. I felt sick. The Careers moved on and I could see my face in the corner of the screen, trying to hold on.
The rest of the recap was torture. Now that Blaine had been introduced he was featured every few minutes – a constant reminder of his search and longing for me. Marley and Rory were discovered – that was almost as hard in itself. They seemed even younger on the TV, clinging to my hope like infants with a teddy bear. Rory's death was as graphic as I remembered it, although he still regained the utmost respect for his district, and Marley looked as devastated as I was. When they showed her running away and my frantic search, only to see her be violently stabbed by Sunshine and Jake and then me find her dying by the river, I dug my fingers into my hands. Somebody had filed my nails into perfect curves – whether this was for aesthetic reasons or so I couldn't use them to harm myself I wasn't sure, but I was beginning to struggle to block out the pain.
Next was Kurt. For some reason I watched this part. Half of me wanted to see if it had really happened – to check it wasn't just some horrific dream I had conjured up in my mind. The other half wanted to see what I looked like when I was a monster. It was worse than I'd thought. Many people in the audience gasped, some let out cries. I was sure nobody could support a person like this – someone who wasn't even human. But somehow I managed to pull myself through, somehow I managed to leave the mangled corpse of the District 8 boy behind and get on with my journey.
I was dying again, shaking and screaming in my cave, my humanity shrinking away from me. The piece of bread drifted down and I remembered how District 11 had saved me – how I wouldn't be standing here right now if it weren't for them. I tried to make some kind of movement to show my thanks, knowing it would be shown on the screen, but found I was frozen, my whole body tensed and rooted to the spot.
Quickly we flashed through mine and Blaine's reunion – it was so clear to the audience his devotion to me I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed it at the time. I on the other hand seemed guarded and distant, struggling to let him into my world. Every second I refused his company seemed like a waste – I hated myself for giving it up. What I would do now for just a couple of those lost minutes again. As we struggled on and the District 3 boy tumbled to the ground, we played in the river and stumbled into the cave, almost killed each other but fought through, threw our arms around each other and crushed our lips together - I felt like I was being stabbed in the heart. They played every kiss – kisses filled with desire and lust and happiness. To the audience this was one of the highlights – the forbidden romance, star crossed lovers connecting in a place where love did not exist. To me it was torture. I began to feel myself unwravelling – the solid walls I had carefully constructed beginning to crumble and fall away, leaving my raw exposed pain underneath.
To my side I noticed Haymitch out of the corner of my eye. He seemed troubled, talking to someone else on the prep team. Then I looked up at the screen and saw my face – beginning to break. He was trying to get me out. Blaine and I were with Santana now, the death of Finn just having passed, but I couldn't focus properly on what was going on anymore. My fingers longed to sink into my flesh, to provide some pain that would distract me from the tirade crashing against my insides right now. How could winners do this? Sit here and look at all the death and destruction – know it was partly their creation? To relive every single moment of pain, replay the thoughts and feelings inside their head? I cursed the person that had filed my nails – I cursed the people who had saved me up in that hovercraft and plugged me with drugs and medicine to heal my wounds. I cursed Blaine for letting me live.
Suddenly I found something I could do to cause me pain. My teeth bit down on the inside of my cheek, sinking into the flesh so I felt the sharp sensation jolt through me but welcomed it. Haymitch had the attention of several people now – he was in danger of detracting from the screen but I wanted him to, I wanted people not to look at me and see that I wasn't any kind of winner – I was broken and lost. Listening to the sound of my screams as Santana was killed. Then the fireballs hit and I knew what was coming. The final battle.
I couldn't bring myself to look at the screen. Knowing it would cause controversy, that it was not the thing I was supposed to do, but unable to do anything else, I turned my head away and closed my eyes. My teeth bit down harder on the side of my cheek, my whole body beginning to vibrate as I struggled to keep control, to hold back the emotions I was feeling. I could hear the frantic whispers of Haymitch in the back on my head, trying to save me as his voice mixed with the shouts and cries, with the sound of metal on flesh, death and destruction. I gripped on tighter and bit down harder, willing for this all to end, for me to be free, alone. Then suddenly, a cheer.
I opened my eyes. The lights blinded me again but gradually there I was, on the screen. The Hunger Games victor. Everyone was on their feet, clapping and cheering. Caesar touched my arm and I realised I was supposed to stand, as he guided me up I forced my fists to unclench and my mouth to pull itself up into a smile. Smiling, waving, feeding my crowd. The crowd that had made this all possible. The crowd that had destroyed me beyond repair.
As I stood in front of the masses suddenly a figure appeared on the side of the stage. It was President Snow. Through all my thoughts about my pain and suffering I had almost forgotten his whole involvement in these Games, even with Panem. When you only ever saw someone on a TV screen, tiny and two dimensional, you almost wondered if they were real. But here he was.
As the President walked over I saw him carrying something in his hand. When I looked down I saw it was a cushion, with a golden crown placed on top. It was simple, thin but expertly made. You could tell the symbol of it was more important than the actual item. President Snow drew closer and I smelt the aroma of roses, but beneath that - and terrifyingly so - blood.
"Sam Evans." He said, his voice booming out through a microphone that must have been concealed beneath his great white beard. He stopped merely inches from my feet, looking directly into my eyes. "I crown you, winner of the 74th Hunger Games." As his hands moved to lift the crown off the pillow, I forced myself to look back at him, to stare down the person who had created such a monstrous event - who had killed so many innocent children just to get his way. The crown was placed on my head, the metal cold against my skin. Then the president stood back, revealing me to my public again. They cried and cheered - I waved, the crown heavy on my head. Then as the speakers boomed my name one final time I was walked off the stage, back to the safe haven of the darkness, the anonymity of cameraless rooms.
As soon as I stepped into the room I immediately stumbled forward. Hands jerked out to grab me and when I opened my mouth a stream of blood came out. I'd been biting down so hard on my cheek that a huge gash had appeared on the inside and now it was pouring onto the floor, the taste making me feel sick. As people tried to help me I pushed them away, running over to the corner and then vomiting everywhere. The crown dropped to the floor with a clang but I left it there, swimming in the pool of filth. Was this what my life was going to be like now? Being constantly reminded, constantly forced to bring up my suffering until it ripped me completely in two and I was lost forever? The vomit spewed from my mouth, burning my insides, making me feel like I was a dead tribute – that any minute now a hovercraft would appear to retrieve my lifeless body and bring it back in a wooden box to District 12. I was sick until there was nothing left, until I coughed emptiness and sank to the floor, staining my clothes with my own filth. Haymitch was beside me, babbling words I couldn't understand, didn't want to. I thought I couldn't speak but then one word came out of my mouth, hoarse but clear.
"Drugs."
