[A/N: Thanks so much to everybody that reviewed your kind words mean the world to me! I'm afraid chapters 4, 5 and 6 aren't very long but they'll get longer after that I swear! Hope you enjoy this chapter, as always reviews are greatly appreciated]

Chapter 4: The Suicide Mission

In my battered state it took a few moments for the implications of her statement to set in. No. Not Taylor too, I put the phone down. Maybe I should have been nicer to Laurel; we were both little girls with our brothers stuck in the Hunger Games. Maybe we should have cried together and discussed our happy memories of Taylor and Dylan. But Laurel and I had never been friends and I saw no point in pretending now.

So two men . . . No, two BOYS I loved were in the Hunger Games. No matter who won I would lose. Of course my allegiance was with Dylan; blood runs thicker than water. But Taylor's the only real friend I've ever had. The thought of losing him makes me sick too. By this point I was feeling very self-pitying and readying myself to go cry on the floor some more like the pathetic little girl I thought I was. But then a sound outside pulled me out of my reverie.

A car was pulling up outside the house next door; Haymitch's house. Nobody in District 12 has a car. In fact nobody in any district has a car. Which can only mean one thing; this visitor came from the Capitol. I peeked out the window and saw Haymitch welcome the car's driver into his home and I was suddenly furious. I had called Haymitch first. If he had prioritised me the way he prioritised this man, getting up at close to 4am in the morning for him, then I wouldn't have found out about Taylor whilst in such a fragile state and I wouldn't be staggering under the weight of all the terror hitting me at once. I stormed over to his house to give him a piece of my mind, barefoot and still in the ridiculously fancy green dress Effie had picked out.

He'd left his door unlocked as usual and I slipped in without a sound, stopping dead at the sound of urgent voices coming from his living room. Usually I wouldn't snoop, but I was heartbroken and more than a little bit crazed in that moment. I wasn't in my right mind, which makes it ok. At least, that's what I told myself.

"It's ridiculous, to test it out we'd need a human guinea pig, and I for one am not willing to risk my life trying out your insane contraption."

"There are a lot of desperate people out there Haymitch, I'm sure we can find somebody . . ."

"AND THEN WHAT? Anybody we send back could end up making things worse, no it just won't do Beetee."

I recognised that name; Beetee. He was a past Hunger Games victor. He knew my parents. They talk about him sometimes; the man with the wire and the bomb.

"Innocent children will die Haymitch; 23 a year to be precise. And it's not like the victors come out unscarred. You of all people should know that. Please, help me. We need to take action."

"I'm not volunteering for your suicide mission."

"It's not a suicide mission, there's only a slight chance the machine will kill you. It needs to be somebody smart. Somebody that knows the way your mind works. The way Johanna's mind works. The way Enobaria's mind works. The way Katniss' mind works."

"My answer is no." Haymitch said firmly.

I felt the anger inside of me reach boiling point. But right now it wasn't only directed against Haymitch, who was irritating me by taking a coward's way out. I understood that after all he's been through, living life day to day isn't easy, and I respected his decision enough that I didn't hate him for it. No. My anger was now directed against the Capitol. In that moment I think I would have done anything to create even the tiniest chink in their armour.

"Whatever it is I'll do it," I said, and this time my voice didn't sound broken or pathetic. It sounded strong.

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