Chapter Three;
My stomach rumbles loudly and I gasp as I wrap my arm around it as though trying to muffle the sound.
We pause at the fountain, sitting on the edge. It's a pleasant day, warm but with a gentle breeze. I remember the peach and pink striped sky earlier this morning; Dad always says you can tell what kind of day it is going to be by the early morning sky.
My stomach gives another gurgle and I feel my cheeks tint pink.
"What happened to you this morning?" Mimi asks as she rummages in her bag.
"I slept in past my alarm. I wouldn't have made it at all only mum woke me. Then on my way I was rushing and ran straight into Leo, quite literally tackling us both to the ground,"
"Oooh," Mimi interjects with a wink.
I roll my eyes. "You try looking attractive in a jumper like this, and besides the first thought in my mind was that my backside was going to be bruised," I reply.
Mimi laughs as finished rifling through her bag she produces a wrapped up cookie and snapping it in two hands me half.
I accept it gratefully wolfing it down.
"That's another thing…I lost my breakfast," I grumble.
Mimi shakes her head, after five years I guess she's used to me.
"Well how about you come to mine for lunch," Mimi suggests, having finished her half of the cookie she stands up to brush the crumbs from her dress.
I calculate quickly in my head. Dad will be working in the bakery and mum having gotten in the daily haul will be busy preparing things for her and dad to leave tonight. Ethan will be still out for the count under his blankets.
My stomach twists nervously as I think about mum and dad leaving tonight to Liberation City for their annual 'business'. My mind drifts back to my conversation with Ethan this morning; is Mum really going to send us to Rue? And what dangers were they talking about?
"Ro?" Mimi startles me from my reverie. "You're doing it again," she says with a slight smile.
I look down and sure enough the beginnings of a small hole are evident.
"My mum's cooking isn't that bad," Mimi teases.
I laugh distractedly and Mimi's eyes zero in on me.
"What's the matter?" she asks.
"Nothing," I say brightly, "let's call into the bakery on our way," I say standing.
Mimi catches my arm and cocks an eyebrow at me.
"You do know you are easier to read than an open book," she tells me.
And here I was thinking that I was better than Ethan.
"It's nothing," I say, making to walk once more.
"An open book with a neon flashing sign above your head reading 'SOMETHING IS MOST DEFINITELY WRONG!'" Mimi insists.
I walk towards the main street that branches off from the main square and where dad's bakery is situated.
Dad didn't really want the big fancy building they had built for him but when Mayor Silverland had presented it to him there wasn't much he could do without looking ungrateful.
Mimi catches up with me, "Now are you really going to make me play the guessing game?" Mimi warns sternly.
I sigh relenting. Once Mimi latches onto something she won't let it go until it's resolved; like a dog with a bone, though I often receive a firm swatting if I make that analogy referring to her in the same sentence.
"It was just something Ethan was saying to me this morning,"
"Oh and what was this brother of yours saying now?" Mimi asks.
"You know the way my mum and dad will be going to Liberation City for three weeks tonight…" I began.
Mimi nodded, "Yeah, my dad will be going too."
"Ethan says that President Coin invited me and Ethan to go along as well,"
"To Liberation City?" Mimi asks in awe.
I nod.
"And are you?" we slowed down our steps until we were almost standing still on the streets and people bustled past us. Just ahead of us I could see the warm beige candy-stripe canvas front of my dad's bakery.
"Well that's the problem see, Mum wants me and Ethan to go to Rue but I think Dad wants us to go with them, but they kept talking about how dangerous it is,"
"Dangerous?" Mimi's grey eyes widened in anticipation.
"I know! I have no idea what they are talking about but whatever it was it sounded pretty serious," I confided. I know I didn't need to tell Mimi to keep this a secret, I trusted her with my life.
"Maybe it has something to do with that rogue Capitol rebel group – the Systematics?" Mimi suggested.
It was true that a few months back the news had been dominated by the same story of how an underground plot had been discovered by a Capitol group calling themselves the Systematics to overthrow the government and try and assert their tyranny once more but it was nothing more than a wash-out. A bit of sensationalist news, in reality the 'Systematics' posed no threat to Coin's government.
"Ro!" I turn at the call of my name, not managing to cover my anxious expression in time.
"Mr Mellark!" Mimi waves cheerfully back to cover my lapse.
I manage to plaster on a smile as we walk over to the bakery where my dad stands at the door in a flour dusted apron.
"How was the preparation for the play?" he asks when we reach him.
"Oh you know Mr Libre likes to keep us on our toes. 120 pages of summarisation I tell you Mr Mellark…we are unsung heroes, aren't we Ro?"
I smile weakly as Mimi looks at me pointedly. Dad looks at me suspiciously and I squirm under his gaze.
I have never been good at being put on the spot, unlike Mimi who could spin a story in seconds.
Dad smiles hesitantly and then he chuckles slightly. "Ro if you pull anymore at that jumper there will be nothing left," he says.
I glance down to see green wool now wrapped around my fingers and the tiny hole from earlier now a huge gaping mouth.
I look up sheepishly, snapping it and dropping the now knotted green to my feet.
"Oh Mr Mellark they look simply delicious, are they fresh?" I look up as Mimi prances over to the counter to point as some of the buns on display.
I can still feel Dad's eyes on me. He knows there is something going on, I have never been able to pull the wool over his eyes, or mum's, or anyone's really, I'm too busy unravelling it in front of them.
I look up and catch Mimi's eyes. She looks at me pleadingly, a little help here? Her expression demands.
I smile brightly and blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
"I didn't get any breakfast," and then in one of those rare occasions where the timing couldn't be better even if it was in a rehearsed play, my stomach grumbles loudly.
Dad ushers me into the warm sweet-smelling bakery, "did your mum not give you the sweet bun this morning? I sent you a fresh one because I know they're your favourite."
"Yes…she did…I lost it, I mean well I didn't lose it…I dropped it, when I fell… on my way to school. I was late because I slept through the alarm clock and that's when mum woke me and give me the bun and then I was rushing to school and I …fell," the words stumble out of my mouth in one big chaotic monologue. There is a very good reason why I am not good at acting.
Dad's expression is still caught somewhere in between suspicion and amusement.
"Well are you hungry now? Mimi?" Dad asks.
"Oh don't trouble yourself Mr Mellark. Ro's agreed to come to mine for lunch, my mum always makes extra. That's okay with you isn' it?" Mimi asks.
"Of course Mimi that's fine and you know you can call me Peeta," Dad replies.
Both dad and Mimi turn to look at me. "Okay well…Dad. We're going to go…now, to Mimi's – for lunch…to eat,"
Mimi pushes me towards the door, "Well thanks again Mr Mellark – Peeta! See you later."
We escape out the door and Mimi doesn't stop jostling me along the sidewalk until we are a good twenty metres away from the bakery.
"What was that?" she demands, poking me in the ribs.
"You put me on the spot!" I complain.
"What happened to a little bit of improvisation!"
"You're talking to the wrong Mellark," I grumble.
Mimi rolls her eyes as she drags me across the main road and down one of the side streets, "Remind me why we're friends again?" she asks.
"I chucked a bucket of glitter over you," I reply.
"Oh yeah…I still haven't got you back for that," we look at each other and giggle.
We come out of the side street and once more cross over angling for the beginning of a pleasant cul-de-sac across the way.
Two in and on the left we stop at Mimi's gate. Mimi's house isn't huge but like her mum always says; it is cosy. It has a neat little garden with a border of happy yellow flowers that spring up every year.
We walk up the path and into the house and Mimi calls out announcing she's home.
Mimi takes our bags and puts them in the sitting room.
Mrs Curta, Mimi's mum peeks her head out of the kitchen and then seeing me comes bustling on down the hallway, wiping her hands on her bright yellow apron that's decorated in sunflowers.
She envelopes me in a bone-crushing hug.
"Hello Mrs Curta," I manage.
"Now what did I tell you about calling me Mrs Curta; makes me feel old! Plain old Tess does fine," Mrs Curta releases me.
"Yes Tess," I agree as Mimi once more appears from the living room.
"You're staying for supper Rose," it's not a question, it's a statement, made inarguable by her using my full name. Hardly anyone calls me Rose; it's always been Ro as far as I can remember.
I nod again and Mrs Curta beams at me as she strides back down and into her kitchen.
Mimi rolls her eyes. "She pays more attention to guests than she does – her OWN DAUGHTER!" Mimi shouts the last bit directing it down the hallway but her eyes are laughing.
Mrs Curta's head pops around the kitchen door again, armed with a spatula that she wags sternly at Mimi.
"Micindiril Curta don't you raise your voice in this house. I didn't rear seven boys to be shouted at by my only daughter," and then her face breaks into a beaming smile before she disappears into the kitchen again.
Mimi shakes her head and we go up to her room.
Mimi immediately goes to open one of the windows while I flop down on her bed; my lack of sleep catching up with me.
"Oh so this is why we are friends; so you can eat my food and sleep in my bed!" Mimi bounces onto the bed beside me almost causing me to fall off.
I groan. "I didn't get much sleep last night," I mumble into the flowery covers.
"Why not?" Mimi nudges me.
I peek up at her but as usual Mimi has already seen it written plain across my face.
"Nightmares huh?" she guesses.
I shrug.
We both know what they are about but neither of us mention it.
The Games. Those horrifying spectacles of savagery, the famous shame of a nation that rejoiced in blood shed. The very thought sends shivers through me as I twist the covers nervously beneath me.
I catch Mimi eye my hands warily; most likely watching in case I put a hole in her quilt, which knowing me seems likely.
"Did you talk to your mum and dad about them?" Mimi asks.
I look up at her expressionless.
"Yea I know stupid question," she retracts.
"What do I say to them?" I ask, propping my head up.
We had learnt about the Games in school in Panem History Class; all 75 brutal years and then the final Games were Capitol children were entered in. In every city there were huge memorial buildings built to honour victors and other key figures. And of course with my parents being the infamous Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark it would have been almost downright unethical of me not to know about the Revolution that allowed Panem to thrive in freedom as it did today.
However Mum and Dad had been very strict about Ethan and me watching the games growing up, in that we weren't allowed. It used to be compulsory back when Mum and Dad were growing up to watch the games no matter what age. But Mum and Dad didn't want us to see that and by the time I turned 12 the law that banned re-runs etc of the games had been instated.
Under the law all footage of the 75 District Hunger Games were gathered together and destroyed except for one copy kept in the archives in Liberation City. It was decreed that no good could come off them, even to teach children of the brutality and cruelty of the Capitol.
"They were raised believing that bloodshed was a game, they toyed with children's lives. The greatest honour we could do them would be to watch their games, to still cower in fear at them. Which is why we won't…today we don't need to fear the Hunger Games, it is a new future, a bright one. The Hunger Games presented a pageantry of vice that desensitised its audience so that the children became nothing more than tributes in their eyes. Our children will not grow up with that same deception in their eyes. We will still teach them about the Hunger Games in their schools and the memorials for our fallen heroes and heroines will still stand; that will be how we remember them; not by watching the Games that the Capitol once used to control us!"
A thundering cheer had went up through the whole town as dad had finished his speech that day stepping down from the podium. Mum was clutching my hand and looking up I could see the pride in her eyes.
That was three years ago but that all changed a few weeks ago because I was rifling through the drawers in the study at home when I happened across a disc; it was blank except for the number 74.
I had thought nothing of it at the time, snatching up the few pens I had come down for and going back up to my room to finish my homework. However after having finished my homework later on that night, curiosity had gotten the better of me and I went back and fishing out the disc again snuck up to my room with it.
I stuck it in the player, switching on the television as I flopped down on my bed. Of all the things I expected to see the 74th Hunger Games was not it.
The pillow I was holding was drenched in my tears by the end of it and covered in holes with half the stuffing on the floor. Dad had come in to tell me dinner was ready, he took one look at me and then the TV screen before he came over to me and immediately switching off the TV enveloped me in his arms.
I felt like I cried for hours and everytime he tried to gently hold me back I would only cling to him tighter. I had to know that he was here, that he was real. I was afraid that if I let him go he would disappear into those awful Games again.
Eventually the tears died down and when I pulled back I saw that Mum had come into the room.
She immediately came over to the bed, brushing the hair back from my face, "hey there little flower what's the matter?" she had hushed me as I once more clung to her like I had dad, inhaling the familiar scent.
"Ro here watched something she shouldn't have," Dad said quietly as I clung to Mum.
I don't know what passed between Mum and Dad while I had my face buried in her shoulder but when mum gently held me by the shoulders her expression told me that she knew; they both knew.
There was hurt, anger and sadness in their faces.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled pitifully.
"We're not angry with you," Dad had said gently.
I looked up and met his eyes, and he smiled sadly.
"We just wish you didn't have to see that," Mum continued quietly.
I nodded as both of them averted their gazes, dropping their heads slightly as though they were ashamed.
"I know…I'm sorry, I wish I didn't see it either…I love you Mum, Dad, no matter what…" Dad looked up at me then with a quiet chuckle and flicked my nose, but there was something grateful or like relief in his eyes. "How about some cocoa?"
That had been over five weeks ago but the nightmares still haunted me of the terrors they had to endure. Mum and Dad had not approached me about it, perhaps wanting to give me time to adjust my thoughts to it and not pressure me.
Dad had come into my room one night though and sitting down in my chair had begun to speak, "You know Ro, if you think…differently about your Mum and me after…well we wouldn't blame you…" but I hadn't let him finish. I couldn't bear to let them think that I thought any less of them or loved them any less because of it.
They were my parents and I didn't care what they had did I would always love them.