Chapter 4: Second In Command
I did not want to admit it. I did not want to think about it. No one did. But everyone knew. The way things were running now were only a temporary fix. I was making videos as the Mockingjay. Effie and Haymitch were in charge of different sections of the Capitol building since Paylor vanished after a week of being in charge. My mother and Prim were still in the hospital, victims from different districts arriving each hour. Gale was in charge of sending out shipments of food and water to the places that needed it most. Peeta was taking care of the survivors in the Capitol, working on relocating them until their homes were safe and clean again. Everything was hectic. There was barely enough time to eat- but all of us knew that eventually I would stop making videos, and everyone would either heal or die, and everyone would go home. Eventually all the chaos would stop, and then it would be time to rebuild Panem. It would be time for a new president.
The new government was still being established, but the basics of Panem were set, including having a president in the Capitol, which would be renamed Central. Instead of being above all the districts, this place would only be in the middle of it all. The knot that would hold Panem together, politically and emotionally. The legalities were still being drawn out, but we all decided that each district would have a representative in Central along with the President. That way no one person would be in total control, and that each district had a say in what happened to Panem.
Haymitch was the obvious choice, but he was adamant about not becoming president. He said he would continue to drink until his liver gave out, which he expected to be in the next ten years. He had his full of being responsible for other people. He wanted to live out the rest of his life peacefully, without having to train new tributes and then watch them die. He said he wanted to be with his "kids" and watch them grow up, for the first time. He did not want to be bothered with having to keep a clean image, "You and Peeta already know what I'm like. I can't be that way if I'm president." He had a point, but I stood by my argument that he would lead a successful nation.
The next choice was Effie, the only one of the District Advisers to stay with her district throughout the war. Her loyalty was admirable but she was too easily startled and she knew it. She could barely handle Peeta and I, let alone an entire nation. If anything would go wrong, the poor woman wouldn't know what to do. She said she'd love to be secretary and continue to organize, something she loved doing and something she thrived at.
Everyone knew, but no one wanted to admit it. I was too young.
I wanted it to be Peeta. He was the one who could communicate with people. He was the one who was able to win everyone over, with his soothing voice and kind eyes. He would be able to compromise and work with people until everyone was happy. He was perfect for it. I was just a stubborn girl with a good vocabulary.
But Panem had looked up to me, the Girl on Fire. All the districts had watched me lead them to victory. I gave them hope when all hope seemed lost. In Panem's darkest hour, I was the light. I was the one who had guided them through the war, I was the spark that started the flame. I was the Mockingjay, symbol of the Rebellion, of the New Panem. My face was the one the people had grown used to. It was almost poetic in a way, aiding in the fall and then rise of Panem, except for the fact that I would have to be ruling an entire nation.
Peeta reassured me everyday. He told me how brilliant I would be and how brilliant I had always been. The thought made me nauseous. I wasn't even eighteen yet, and everyone I encountered made it a point to tell me how wonderful I would be as President. Even Gale, who used to tease me that I could barely keep track of prey, was now encouraging me to keep track of a country. Every time he would see me in the halls, or in meetings, or at breakfast; he would always address me the same way, as President Catnip Mellark. I didn't know which title made me more uneasy: the title of President or the title of Mellark.
It's not that planned on not on marrying Peeta, I did, but hearing it from Gale, who I thought I was going to marry for a large portion of my life, didn't settle right with me. I figured we'd have something more confrontational. Something more finalizing, but we didn't. Gale just knew I would never be able to love anyone like I loved Peeta. I would never be able to live without him. I could live without Gale; I would be miserable, but I could. I would die without Peeta. Life without him was impossible to imagine, literally, because I know if he ever died, I would too.
Peeta had gotten me through the darkest, scariest points in my life, and I had done the same for him. No one in the world knew what it was like to fight to keep someone alive, even if it meant your own death, and cheating those odds twice, and then being lucky enough to survive a war together. Not having Peeta by my side would mean I failed all that I promised to myself in The Games. Usually only one can leave the arena, meaning that no one else in the entire world knows exactly what happened to each Victor. All the Victors were entirely alone in their experience. There was no one to talk to, to help put the demons at bay. I was lucky enough to not only live, but to make it out with the love of my life by my side. I don't know why we were different, but I've never been more grateful for anything in my entire life.
It could have been like all the other Games. Very easily either one of us could have died at any point. Then one of us would have won and none of this would have happened. Snow would be sitting in his office right now, planning next year's Games, and I would be home in District 12 or dead. If I had accepted one of us having to die in that moment, right this second twenty-three murders would be being planned. A decision I made without even thinking lead to a change in my life and all the lives of the people of Panem. But if I was given the chance to do it all again, I would. I wouldn't even think about it. Of course I regret that innocent people have died because of me, but at the very least, their deaths were not in vain. Their deaths were for something greater, instead of just entertainment. Never again would a mother have to kiss their child for maybe the last time and watch them brutally die miles and miles away. Never again would a sister or brother be lost; or a lover, or a best-friend just for television.
I didn't like to think about it, but all of it was sort of my fault. I was never alone, an entire rebellion had formed without my knowledge. But I began and ended this war. It only seemed right that I take care of the mess that I left, and try to make it as beautiful as I knew it could be.