The next thing I know, it's noon and the sun is high in the sky. I glance upwards to discover that Effie's asleep. I look to the left and find Peeta and Haymitch are as well. My stomach growls, telling me the obvious, that I've missed breakfast. Despite my hunger, I don't want to move just yet.
This may be one of the last moments of peace I get before I go back into the arena. I shift my position slightly, and my head sinks back onto something soft. I blush a deep red as I realize that it's Effie's chest. I accidentally let out a whimper of embarrassment and promptly freeze, worried I've woken someone up. I think she's asleep, so I'm surprised when one of her arms wraps around me, and she whispers "Shhh, you're safe here with us, I promise."
I wonder how many times I whimpered during my sleep. Maybe she's just doing this because of the screams. But I can only recall one nightmare, and even it's hazy. Then I realize-it must not have been of the arena because I would have surely screamed. This pleases me, to know that there is an escape from the nightmares.
I feel her breathing even out and am sure she's asleep, but I still don't move. I sit perfectly still for hours, relishing the peace and calm radiating from the people around me. But once I catch a glimpse of the clock, I'm surprised so much time has gone past. It's three-thirty, the stylists and prep teams will be here in thirty minutes. Gently, I reach over and take the camera, which has miraculously remained in Effie's hand, out of her grip, and insert the memory card.
I raise it and position it so we're all in frame. We all look so relaxed that it's hard to believe we're involved in the Games. I smile a small content smile and snap the picture. It turns out beautifully. I carefully stand up.
Effie stirs, but not enough to wake up. I aim the camera and take one last picture. I then remove the memory card and tuck it safely in my pocket. I decide to wake Effie first. Besides, I need to ask her something.
"Effie, Effie," I whisper as I gently shake her shoulder. Her eyes blink up at me sleepily, and for a moment I want to let her drift back off. But I stick to my resolve, and help her sit up. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" She nods, still half asleep, and I take a deep breath.
"Effie, you know I'm coming back right?" This wakes her up and she's fully focused on my face. I see the conflicting emotions flit across hers, but I don't break eye contact. "I know it's hard for you to believe, but trust me. I'm not just doing this for me, or Prim."
"I'm going to came back to you and Peeta, okay? But I need you to promise me something on the off chance that I die in the arena." I watch as her face pales for a second time today. She gives a hesitant nod anyway. "Promise me you'll look after Peeta and keep him from doing something stupid."
"You know I will, Katniss."
"I know, I just had to hear it. Don't tell Peeta, okay? I don't want him to try anything drastic while I'm in the arena." I grow determined and my voice grows stronger. "But we shouldn't have to worry about that because I am coming back."
I notice that my determined tone soothes her and she relaxes slightly. I hug her tightly, trying to calm her even further. Interviews are in two and a half hours, and the last thing we need is for her to break down or appear troubled. As I glance over at the men, I get a wicked idea. Payback enough for Haymitch, I'll have to get Effie later.
"Hey, Effie, want to help me wake the guys?" She sees the mischievous look on my face and agrees. I wave an avox over. "I need two air horns as quickly as possible." I don't know where she finds them, but they're in our hands less than a minute later.
"Okay, so you slide down a little and I'll go on the other side. When I count to three, we push the buttons, okay?"
We slip into position and I count quietly. On three, me mash the air horns as hard as we can and hold down the buttons. Their reaction is priceless. Haymitch jumps up snarling, dumping Peeta into the floor. He jumps up instantly, and whirls around, eyes wide.
Effie and I both double over laughing and ignore the curses being thrown at us by both parties. The horns are silent now, and before I realize what's going on, Haymitch has one and Peeta the other and they're being blown at us. We scream and cover our ears, running for cover. We run into my room, and slam and lock the door. We hear a thud as both men run into it.
The blaring noise stops and swearing takes its place. They warn us to watch our backs before the sound of retreating footsteps meets our ears.
"Come on, we'd better get ready. The prep teams will be here in ten minutes."
Effie gasps and frantically unlocks the door before running down the hall yelling at the boys to get their butts in gear for interviews. I laugh and lie on my bed, putting the memory card into the drawer with my pin, content to wait on my prep team and stylist. The wait isn't long. They burst into my room exactly three minutes later, all talking at once. They give me some salve for the bruise that makes it vanish instantly.
They must be tired of covering it up. I get shoved into a bath and then they begin on my makeup and nail polish. It takes an hour and a half for them to make me look beautiful. When Cinna comes in he smiles and pulls a dress out from behind his back. It's breathtaking.
White and flowing with a full skirt that goes to my ankles. The strap is shredded and the overall effect is pure beauty. He helps me slide into it, and I notice that it's unusually heavy for one of his designs. I'm given the matching heels, and his hands slide over my eyes.
"On the count of three. One, two, three..."
He moves his hands and I'm speechless. If I thought that the red dress from last year was amazing, I'm corrected now.
"Cinna..." I breathe. "This is...how did..." I'm so shocked I'm unable to form a simple sentence.
"I take it you like it?" he chuckles.
"Like it? I love it. How could I not?"
He extends his arm and I take his elbow. Peeta, Effie, Haymitch, and everyone else is waiting for us. They all draw a collective breath, and look absolutely stunned. I smile, knowing that if I draw this reaction from them then the Capitol audience will go absolutely wild. I start to spin for them, but Cinna grabs my arm and shakes his head no.
I look at him questioningly. "Save it for the interview," he says. I nod, and we head out to the stage. Caesar's color this year is purple, and I have to say, it's not very flattering. I notice that Hatmitch has on a black suit that fades to gray the closer you get to the ankle.
I find this odd. I thought we would match as we did at the Parade. All too soon, it's my turn. As predicted, the audience goes crazy when they see me. It takes five full minutes to calm them down.
I sit and smile like a porcelain doll. The whole time I think about how much I hate this; this place, these people.
"So, Katniss," Caesar says after the crowd has quieted. "What's it like to be in two years of the Hunger Games?"
I think about my answer carefully. One slip and Snow will kill everyone I care about. "Well, it's been quite a surprise," I say, and it's definitely not a lie. "But I'm sure I'll do well."
He smiles and nods. "And may I say that your stylist has outdone himself with your dress. It's absolutely breathtaking."
The crowd cheers wildly and I glance at Cinna. He's making a circular motion with his finger. Twirl for me. I remember that he said to save it for the interviews.
"Would you like to get a better look?" I ask innocently.
I receive enthusiastic cheers so I stand and slowly twirl. I hear a gasp of surprise and feel the dress becoming lighter. Something covers my arms and I look down and see feathers. I stop spinning and look at the screens. I have transformed into a mockingjay.
It's dead silent for five seconds before the cheering begins. I faintly hear the buzzer and bow slightly before rushing offstage. Effie and Peeta are there. Both look worried. I can't focus on Haymitch's interview, but I know it didn't go well.
Afterward, we waste no time in getting back to the penthouse. I run into my room and all but rip off the dress. I need no reminders of what has just happened. I scrub the makeup off and take down my hair. I choose a simple pink tank top and black pants, stopping to tuck the memory card into the pocket, before rejoining the others for dinner.
It's eerily silent, the weight of Cinna's actions settling over everyone. Effie doesn't even comment on how much I eat. I can't help it, I missed two meals. After dinner, we head to the living room to watch the interviews. The commentators gush over my dress and transformation, not understanding the true meaning behind it.
Stupid people. We head to bed when it's over, and I'm glad for escape, no matter how short it may be. I lie in bed for one, two hours, and sleep doesn't come. I heave a sigh and instantly think to go to Peeta. I head to his room to see that he's sleeping peacefully for once.
I ease the door shut and wander around. I'm just about to go to the roof when I see the light spilling into the hall from Effie's room. Curiously, I make my way down the hall. I'm just about to enter when I hear the sniffling. She' s finally broken down, and I can't stand to hear it.
I tap lightly on the door simply because I don't want to give her a heart attack on top of everything else. Her head shoots up, and then she hides it again. She's in bed, and has obviously been trying to sleep. I cross and sit on the other side and pry her hands away from her face. Tear tracks stain her cheeks and her eyes are red.
I wonder how long she's been crying. She tries to wrench her hands away, but I tighten my grip.
"Go away," she whispers hoarsely. "I don't want you to see me like this."
She sounds so heartbroken that I just want to hug her. So I do. I hold her for what seems like forever as she cries on my shoulder. No explanation is needed. I know she's crying for everything she's going to lose in two days.
By the time the sobs turn into sniffles I'm surprised she has any water left in her body. The clock shows two. That means I've been in here two hours. I'm surprised she didn't pass out. Her hands go to her temples, trying to massage away the headache I know she has.
She looks at me with red-rimmed eyes and whispers "Thank you." I nod, my emotions long since spent. Before I can move, she nestles her head into the crook between my shoulder and head. I shift, really wanting to leave. But she lifts her head and looks at me with such sad eyes that I know I can't leave her.
"Please stay," she whispers.
I relax back onto the mattress. I can't blame her, I don't want to be alone either. And I know that if I leave we'll both just have nightmares. She's asleep before I can blink. It's then that I let my own tears flow.
I cry for my mother, for Prim, Gale, Peeta, Cinna, my prep team, the woman beside me, and even Haymitch. My little family. Correction: my little family that will never see me again. Snow wanted me dead anyway. The odds of me coming out of the arena weren't high to begin with, we all knew that.
I tried to convince myself otherwise, even succeeded for a while. But after the stunt with the dress I am certain to die in the arena. Then I cry because I'm angry. Angry at the people who invented the Hunger Games, angry at Snow for forcing me into this and ripping my family apart, and angry at myself for giving up. I decide right then and there to fight until my last breath.
To fulfill my promises to Prim and Effie. And then I cry some more. I realize it's years of pent-up emotions flowing out of me. By the time I'm finished I'm exhausted and also have headache. This is the only time in my life that I've cried so hard.
The pillows and the top of Effie's head are soaked. Frankly I'm surprised that I didn't wake her up. But if she was as tired as I am now, I don't think a bomb could wake her. I'm so incredibly sleepy, but I take out the memory card and twirl it between my fingers. Before I know what I'm doing, I've inserted it into a slot on the remote that controls the room.
I run my thumb over it, and the pictures appear on the wall opposite the bed. I smile as they flash by in a slide show. There are about twenty in all, and we all look so happy. My favorite is the one of us all curled up on the couch. I watch them until I fall asleep, and when I finally do there are no nightmares, just dreams of a world where the Hunger Games don't exist.
I'm woken by Effie's alarm clock screeching. I open my bleary eyes and see that it's four-thirty. Luckily, the stupid thing is on my side of the bed and I reach over and slap it, hoping to high heaven that will turn it off. It does, and I sigh in relief. It didn't appear to faze Effie as she's still asleep on my shoulder.
I realize then that the pictures are still flashing on the wall. I scramble for the remote and wrestle the memory card out of it. I slip it back into my pocket before shifting slightly so that my back will quit hurting. I think it's going to be an easy day before I remember training. No way we can afford to miss it today. I sigh before slipping back to sleep, the thought of training lingering on my mind.
AN: Well, there it is. This is the perfect example of why I hate stopping in the middle of a chapter. It just seems so weak in comparison to the others. It doesn't really pick up until the end. I may take this down and rewrite it in the future. Anyway, on to training. And then, the GAMES!
