A/N: k, i just wanted to establish that this is an au story. the quarter quell DID happen, but DID NOT end the way it did in the book. this is because there was NO rebellion.
Cammy
I'm numb as I sit in the lush compartment, watching the playbacks of the other Reapings across Panem. I try to remember each one, but only a few stick in my head.
From District One, I don't notice anyone special. They might be Careers, but their easy lives make them less powerful- less desperate- than the others. At least, in my experience watching the Games. And my mother's experience living them.
In District Two, both tributes catch my eye. The girl is Aquillo. Her hair is so blond it's almost white. More importantly, she has what my mother would call an archer's build, with muscular arms and strong features. No doubt dangerous in long range combat.
The second tribute, the boy they called Therion, catches my eye simply because he's not a Career. At least, not in the usual way. His name was picked from the glass bowl, and no one volunteered to take his place. He has a lean, wiry build, though, and looks pretty strong. I can't help noticing the black bruise around one of his dark eyes.
In District Three there's a clever-looking girl called Ava. She doesn't present herself as particularly strong physically, but seems... intelligent, somehow. She reminds me of the girl my mother called Foxface.
Four has the usual brawny types, and no one seems unique. Five through Nine are the just your average tributes, like me. District Ten's boy, Aspen, looks powerful but not stupid like the rest of the muscular fighters. He'll be dangerous. Eleven has no one interesting that I can see.
I write down the names and facts I think I need to know in the journal my father gave me during our last goodbyes. He told me he did the same in the Quarter Quell. Knowing about the competition helped keep them alive. Aquillo, Therion, Ava and Aspen. Even Thorn has place in my book. But the others could prove important too. I remember several Victors from years past whose key strategy was to pretend they weren't anything special. Watching the playback of my own Reaping, I think that'll have to be mine. I look emotionless enough, but small. Scared, too, if they happen to look closely at my eyes.
But is that the right plan? Or should I try to be prove that first impression wrong? How will I earn allies or sponsors if they all think I'm hopeless?
Haymitch comes into the room, staggering slightly in his drunkenness. He takes in the words of my notebook, the images on the screen, the dark circles under my eyes. "Don't overthink it, sweetheart. Strategy comes later. For now, you eat, and you sleep."
The instructions seem simple enough. I certainly can't go wrong by following them. So I head into the dining car and grab a quick bite to eat. I know I should stuff myself- Mom told me I'd appreciate it later, when I was starving in some unknown territory- but I've lost my appetite. I force down some cheese, then stumble on bread that smells of home. I try to make it last.
I know it won't help to stay up all night worrying, so I head back to my own compartment. I haven't seen Thorn this whole time. I wonder what he's been doing. But I let myself stop wondering now. I need to clear my head.
Stepping into the shower is an amazing experience. Instantly, water flows over me like silk, soft and insubstantial as moonlight. The feeling is wonderful. I used to think it was funny, the way Mom looked back on showers and food as the only good part of the Games, but now I understand. I smile at the thought of her. Maybe we can be back together soon.
I fall asleep hopeful.
Morning.
Sunlight is streaming into my compartment. I stretch luxuriously and stand up, almost able to fool myself for a moment. Almost able to create an illusion of safety and love.
We must have arrived in the Capitol overnight. The whole city is basking in the soft dawn rays. It seems so peaceful, it's hard to believe something so ruthless could take place here.
Not wanting to confront Haymitch just yet, I press myself up against the window. May as well enjoy the sight.
"Hey! You! Stop!" I stiffen, but then I realize that the voice is coming from outside. A dog scampers into view. I've never seen one before, but I recognize its look from the foxes and, once, a wolf I saw out in the woods. It's a little smaller, and actually pretty cute. I smile.
And then a man in white, the one the voice belonged to, is coming into view. He has the hard expression of all Capitol Peacekeepers, and his close-cropped gray hair adds to the impression of discipline and strictness. "Stop!" He says again, as if the dog can understand him.
I wonder if it came from outside the electric fences somehow, but then I realize that the fences are only to keep the District people in. Does that mean the Capitol doesn't have them at all? Are they free to come and go but choose not to?
Then there's a gun in his hand. The resounding crack of the shot reaches my ears. The bullet reaches its flesh. And then the dog is on the ground, dead.
The Peacekeeper is glancing around now, almost as if to check for witnesses, and I look away. Partly because I don't want him to see me, but partly because this is too painful. Do the people of the Capitol know what lies beyond their safehaven, besides the Districts? Are they even aware of the hardships we face? Do they see that there's an outside at all?
I push those thoughts away, because a more immediate, more painful question has occurred to me. People here have such a distorted view of life, of reality itself, it is even a more possible one.
How much of a difference is there between that dog and me?
whoa, that came out a little darker than i intended. actually, i had no idea i was gonna put that part with the dog in at all XD sorry! but anyway, next chapter will be katniss and the costumes. R&R please!
