[A/n: Sorry for the delay, i thought my writing was kinda hard to read so i stopped but continued because someone on Review page asked me to update. It is weird, but i fly over the moon like the cow/bacon from the Nursery Rhyme when i get reviews. Which is no excuse for being weird but argh. I don't even know what i'm saying so... bleh. Enjoy (: ]


And then they were there, advancing towards him. Crusade reaches for his back pocket and pulls out a metal studded glove, slipping it over his fingers. The diamond studs serve as prisms, casting off rainbows in the harsh light. He looks handsome even in his Peacekeeper uniform, but even his suaveness is a false front for the cruelty beneath.

But I am not stupid; not stupid enough to fall for someone part of this hell. Haymitch, Haymitch, Haymitch! I struggle to stay sharp. The breath catches in my throat, and I am on my feet, hysteria threatening to wreck my body with shaky breaths, sweaty palms.

Haymitch – I was wrong. They weren't going to leave him alone.

Everyone's attention is diverted away from me now. They know what is going to happen next. Now they quietly await the scene that would surely unfold before their eyes. At the last moment, they will cast their eyes down and shut out his screams, shut out the coppery smell of bloodshed. They would be too numbed to cry.

But this was Haymitch! Haymitch Abernathy – My mother's mentor. White spots are sliding across my vision, sparking off anxiety. I am out of focus. I cannot see. I am about to scream, when I remember that blinking helps, and so I do. The pavilion is now submerged in a dreamy yellow tinge, but at least the cloudiness has cleared.

He is just a few feet away from Haymitch, when I lurch forward, tripping over the trailing chains sprawled across the ground, a sea of metal. Crusade shakes his turquoise-streaked hair out of his eyes, and lifts a clenched fist. His eyebrows arch in amusement at Haymitch's half-dazed and undaunted expression, as if he had just drained a whole bottle of spirits. My eyelids swell with blistering fury at his daring demeanor. I break into a run, cuts and sores blossoming on my bare feet.

A resounding slap sounds across the assembly. The blood rushes to my head, my legs have stopped moving. Vaguely, I register a woman's scream.

I look up, and suddenly he's there. Haymitch stumbles, Jed's handprint smudged on his left cheek. Crusade freezes, confusion knitted into his thick, even brows. If eyebrows could talk, I swear the first word of his ones will be "Huh?"

"You stupid, pathetic, stupid man. Katniss is a manipulative monster, and she's locked up for good now, so she can never do harm in this world again. You have no idea what you're saying, no idea at all," Jed's voice comes out fierce and leaden with a solid, metallic quality.


I growl, preparing to charge Jed for insulting my mother, but a wrinkled woman sporting flamboyant pink hair winds her trailing chain around my ankle, and I nearly fall over and break my nose. I whip around to smack her pixie-like face, but halt when I realize that the whole of Group C is staring. Curse my anxiety. I bend down to unwind the chains, but they are tangled. I fumble anxiously and hopelessly, while the pixie-faced girl with Capitol features holds the end of the chain. I don't even know what she's doing here in Rebel Camp. Do Capitol people turn against their own kind, too?

But there's no denying that I feel like a dog on a leash. I don't like it. She grasps my wrist, and this morning's embarrassment with Haymitch shudders briefly through my mind. I squirm inwardly.

"Calm down, my dear. Don't interfere and let the big boys handle it. He's acting for the sake of that nasty Peacekeeper, see?" She pulls me downwards and hisses into my ear. For a moment, her tone reminds me of some superior chiding me for my mannerisms. I pull away roughly.

"He. Is. Insulting. Katniss. Everdeen. And. Hurting. Haymitch." I half-spit, half-whisper back, "Let me go."

"How else do you think he's going to get Crusade to believe him?" Her voice trembles. My expression must have had an impression of sudden understanding, because her tone drops an octave and she swallows. "I knew his father. We worked on the same team for your mother." My palm is wet with her incoming tears.

Jed is yelling louder and louder from the front. His insult must not have been convincing enough. Crusade does not just want humiliation, he desires spilled blood. Finally, he resorts to slapping and kicking Haymitch repeatedly. My heart wrenches as the skin of his lips split asunder and crimson droplets splatter the ground. A ruler of red dribbles down from his nostrils, making it seem like he has a chronic nosebleed. Almost everyone has their head buried into their laps.

I bite into soft skin, and turn to see that the woman I had found so bizarre just a while ago has offered me a restraint to keep the screams in, unleashed. I feel a prick in my eyes, pushing her hand away before the tears come.

"C..Cinna – That was his name, you know that right?" She looks away.

"I do." And this time I don't bother concealing the tears that flow freely downwards.

"I'm Effie," Her eyes travel up and meet mine, "You know that right?"

Somewhere, somehow, the name rings a bell. Maybe I do know, or maybe I don't, but I say what she wants to hear anyway.

"I know."


There's a clanking of chains as people stagger forward in chains, to help hoist a subconscious, bleeding Haymitch by the armpits. Effie lets go of the binding chain, and I unravel it quickly, dashing towards Haymitch. Crusade is nowhere to be seen. Jed must have convinced him, he must have. I tear off a patch from my outfit and wipe Haymitch as best as I can. If the odds are in his favor, he would not be reaped, and be granted time to recover. And if the slip of paper obtained from the reaping ball spells out his name, he would have to enter the arena in this state.

Dread – That's the word to describe what I feel every day.

I awkwardly give Haymitch a peck on the cheek, sit him upright. He drools bits of foul fluid, and his hands clasp mine, the same hand-lock as in this morning. Heaving, his words are barely audible, and I have to lean in to hear.

Laced with angst, a hoarse voice questions the crowd, above all the clanking noise, "Jed! Where's Jed?" The voice comes from the back rows, where they slot in the not-so-potential-troublemakers. He must not have seen what happened in the front. Come to think of it, I have not, either. Not fully.

"It's Crusade. He took him away, forced him to follow him outside." One of the second-rowers with barely any arm skin exposed due to the overflowing chains, replies.

I rotate around slowly, one step in front of another. Dread pumps through my veins. Dread, dread, dread, dread, dread, dread, dread. Thump, thump, thump, thump. My heart thumps with dread. Dread in gallons, enough to crush me.

I am willing to deny the rules, stomping outside before anyone can stop me. But stop me they do.

"Rebels of The Darker Days, filth of the Capitol, begin your long awaited journey to The Square. You know the procedure. The Reaping is beginning. It is time," a man in a suit, stinking of Capitol blood, announces.

Long awaited? I grit my teeth together with a click. Oh yeah, this is long-awaited alright.

"K..katniss" The way he says her name, he drags the "s" sound, reminding me of the forked tongue of a snake.

My feet tingle. I know he's addressing me. And even stranger, I feel like it belongs to me – Her name.

"Katniss," he whispers, "She was strong." Then his eyes shut with grace, and he falls into a peaceful slumber. I will have to go to great lengths to wake him up.

I don't care, though. His words that are meant for me, those are all I need – to face this all.

I step into the corridor that leads Outside, without following The Procedure. For the first time, I am defying orders. For the first time, I am unafraid. I am strong.


[Hi okay i'm sry for the draggy story, they never seem to make it to the Reaping am i right! Yes i'm frusfrated with myself too... *inserts christmas camel* Review or "x" to indicate you've read would do. Thanks & luv *camel-shaped heart* Rmb criticisms = very welcome.]