Chapter 3

I wake long before I need to the next morning. Nightmares and visions of Katniss and Peeta kept me awake, tossing and turning most of the night. Dreams of watching your friends being slaughtered just shouldn't happen. If this is what plagued my mind all night I can't even bare to imagine what last night held for Katniss and Peeta. I shudder and briefly close my eyes at this thought.

I decide to go ahead and rise and get my day going. It's going to be a rather long day and I might as well just get on with it. Although the Capitol officials have left the district, it is still my duty as daughter of the mayor to give my full support and allegiance. Though deep down I know I will never be able to give them my full and total support. I will however continue my perfectly crafted façade, keeping up the illusion of support and allegiance. The illusion is vital to my safety. To my family's safety. And ultimately, vital to the district's safety. The Capitol did not take kindly to shows of defiance. Even to simply question the Capitol would bring forth unthinkable consequences. The illusion I've spent so many years crafting steers the fate of an entire district. The weight of this thought sits heavy on my shoulders and tightens my chest. Every year this weight feels heavier and heavier. I close my eyes, force myself to take a slow, deep breath and then proceed to prepare for the day ahead.

I walk across my bedroom, toes squishing in the fluffy carpeting beneath my feet, and pull open the doors of my walk in closet. Choosing what to wear shouldn't be hard. I have more clothes in my own closet than practically every girl in the Seam combined. Most people would love to have it this way. To have outfits, complete with matching accessories shipped in monthly from the Capitol. To have more outfits than could realistically ever be needed hanging in the closet at all times. But not me, I hate it. These clothes, which I don't even get to pick out, make me stick out as privileged, as different than everyone else at school. And all I want to do is blend in and go unnoticed. But no, not me. I, Madge Undersee, despite all my desires, could never go unnoticed. I pull a pale yellow sundress from its padded, satin covered hanger and grab the sandals designated to be worn with this particular dress. After I've showered and dressed I sit down at my vanity to fix my hair and make up. I'm not a huge fan of wearing much make up but given the bags under my eyes I know I can't skimp on it today. Gonna have to do a full face today if I want to keep up the illusion. Once my face is concealed behind a mask of make up, I pull my wavy hair back in it's usual ponytail and tie a yellow ribbon around it. Standing before my mirror I give myself a solid, once over and decide I look presentable.

"Morning Miss Madge. I've set your breakfast up on the sun porch this morning. It's a beautiful morning and I thought you might enjoy some fresh air before the day heats up." Mabel informs me as I enter the kitchen.

"Thank you, Mabel. I would like that." I reply as I smile and head to the back porch.

It's one of my favorite places in our house if I had to pick one. It's right off the back of the kitchen and there's a small, wicker bistro style table and chairs as well as a matching porch swing. Our backyard, though sprawling in size, backs up to the perimeter fence of the district. The fence is an eyesore, however, just beyond that fence are rolling green hills and trees beyond where my eyes can see. Whenever I'm on the porch, I always try to mentally remove that fence from my view and instead try to focus on the vast beauty of the nature before me. I've spent many an afternoon lost in a daydream about what life holds on the other side of that dreaded fence.

Mabel must know how much I need a good start to my day because she's assembled one of my favorite meals. Fresh squeezed orange juice, sourdough french toast with strawberries and whipped cream. A sigh of delight slips out as the first bite of berries and toast pass my lips. I hear Mabel chuckle a little from behind the screen door knowing my sigh means I'm happy, if just in this moment.

Mabel's been our housekeeper for as long as I can remember. She's practically family. Originally she worked just a few days a week, mostly just cleaning but after my mother's health deteriorated she began working every day. Sunday is the only day she doesn't come to our house. Every other day of the week she is here without fail at sunrise, cooking and cleaning until dusk. If we have guests in town as we did last night, she will work even later into the evening. I don't know how she manages to work so tirelessly and still be so caring towards everyone. She even tends to my mother, though it really isn't part of her job description. My mother has terrible headaches that confine her to bed for days at a time and heavily medicated with morphling. Mabel always checks on her, tending to her so lovingly. Mabel doesn't have any family of her own. She had been married only a short time when her husband was killed during an explosion in the mines. They never even had a chance to start a family together. I'm not sure what her reasons are, but Mabel doesn't-hasn't ever-dated another man since she lost her husband.

I swirl the last bite of French toast in the remaining whipped cream and lean back in my chair. Looking out into the backyard, I notice the shed that had been my refuge yesterday. It's so worn out. We don't really even have a garden anymore so the shed became irrelevant I suppose, thus lending to its current state. Before my mother's headaches became so frequent she had been an avid gardener of both flowers and vegetables. She loved being out here and would spend all her spare time tending to her plants. That was so very long ago though. It's been at least 10 years since we had a garden, maybe even longer. Even still, I do hold memories of moments shared with her, out here with our hands in the soil, laughing as we cared for our garden. I was probably about 5 or 6 at the time. Maybe that's part of why I like being out here in the backyard so much-because it reminds me of my mother. I rarely get any time with her anymore. My father isn't present much in my life either. He's constantly busied with his work. He's a good Mayor. Or at least I think so, not that I really have much to compare him too. He's been our district Mayor for nearly 20 years. He's often away on political obligations in the Capitol and when he is home, he's most often found in his office, hard at work.

As I stand and scoot my chair back, Mabel rushes out of the kitchen, taking the breakfast tray of dirty dishes from my hands.

"Now Miss Madge, you needn't worry yourself with these dishes. I'll take them. You run along to school."

"Yes, mam." I reply, begrudgingly heading back into the house to collect my school things. Grabbing my brown leather book bag and my purse, I leave the house and walk across the square, setting my sights on the school in the distance.

I was not looking forward to school at all. Everyone would be staring at me. Knowing that my friend wouldn't be in class with me or sitting at my lunch table. No, my friend would be arriving in the Capitol, most likely meeting her ridiculous stylist today. Katniss and I, though total polar opposites, make good friends for each other. We're both quiet more than we are talkative. Neither of us are what I think of as social. We tend to keep to ourselves and without her here anymore I know I'll be totally alone. Sure, there are people I am friendly with but they're more just acquaintances. And mostly they only tolerate me because of who my father is. So I may say hello and smile or compliment someone's new dress but I definitely didn't share any details of my private life with anyone and if I'm being totally honest, no one is sharing any of their secrets with me either. But then again, who would want to tell the daughter of the mayor their secrets?

As I enter through the double doors at the front of the school, I remind myself to maintain the illusion. I push my shoulders back, plaster my phony yet believable smile across my make up covered face and walk confidently towards my first class. I feel eyes burning through the back of my head and hear hushed whispers as I pass my fellow students in the hallway. I'm certain that today will be a very, very long day.