IV The Interview

July-17-12

5:36 PM

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! The parts in italics are from page 132, 133, 134 of Mockingjay. Only a few more chapters left!

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot of this fanfic.

i-still-want-to-be-me

I sit down on the nearby chair, waiting to be escorted down to Panem's television studio where I will be interviewed for the war or something.

I have no idea what I am supposed to say or any idea what this interview is going to be like. All I know is that i have somewhere to be very shortly and that I am assuming that I am going to be provided something to say—well at least that's what I've overheard from my prep team.

They are a group of actually pretty calm and collected people—well I'd say more like creatures since I have no idea what they are. I mean, I think one's a cat, one's a dog and the other seems to be some sort of parrot? Oh, no, I presume its a jabberjay. But underneath all that getup and transplants to make that happen, I believe deep down inside that they are real people just hidden away.

They keep making me think positive, and now I'm starting to think of the Capitol as a happy and good place for me. I mean, thinking it over, I have all I need, exactly like my prep team said. I have a paint room, which is something I love for, and I have my leg back! Okay, so that's not much, but I think there's more to come of these surprises.

Effie comes in, followed by two armed, gruff guards who seem like they do not want to be here at the moment.

The guards lead me out of the floor that I'm now calling my home, and take me down the elevator.

When on the elevator, I find that the ride conjured some memories that I am not sure about and it felt like my whole entire head was pounding with thoughts bouncing off the walls of my skull. One thought is that I should not trust the Capitol, but I didn't listen to it. No, it's all fake, and lies.

I'm lead into a nearby building and was sent to a dressing room where someone from the television studio would come and fetch me for the interview.

Still, no word on what I'll say.

Not long after, I hear someone say my name and an avox comes in and injects me with a syringe. I feel no different and shortly after I am being forced onto the stage without it being a major deal. The crowd isn't supposed to see my guards and escorts.

The bright lights flash in my eyes and I swear bring déja vu to me. I remember sitting in the same chair, talking about some mysterious girl. Who she was, troubles my memories.

I see President Snow sitting in a chair, watching my every move. He scares me.

"Citizens of Panem please welcome Mr. Mellark! Hello Mr. Mellark, you look well, don't you?" President Snow greets me and the camera.

"Thank you very much, President Snow, sir," I reply back, reading word for word off of the teleprompter.

"Why don't we start off by war news. Why do you think a cease-fire is needed, now that you are the leader of the war here, on the Capitol's side?" President Snow questions me.

I wrack my brain for any thoughts of my own, but I keep drawing blanks. I look to the teleprompter which is flashing red for my attention.

"Well, we need a cease-fire, because our fighting is just ruining Panem! The more that the Rebels fight against us, the more damage it brings to our key infrastructure in many of the districts. For example, with all the fighting in District Seven, our lumber industry, we have now created a broken dam, that is causing flash flooding, forcing residents to flee. As well as, elsewhere, the rebels have created so much havoc that people have gone and derailed a train causing toxic waste to spill over and potentially harm all occupants in the area. In another case, rebels decided to light a fire, which caused a granary to collapse, killing many," I say, barely understanding any of the words that I'm reading. I'm about to continue when―

"What the―" I hear President Snow suddenly shout.

I look to the television screen which is no longer showing me, but a girl. The girl that keeps on entering my thoughts. But I don't like her. She's...she's the enemy. No, that's not right, it can't be. I've never known anything about her and everything that I've remembered is―

I see myself back on the screen and I quickly continue reading the teleprompter.

"Uh, and the uh, the rebels, they have ruined, the um...the water purification plant which ends up affecting everyone who uh drinks water, cause you know, and the bombing, and um exactly why―" I ramble off, not being able to comprehend the words spewing off the teleprompter since I'm so distracted with this mysterious girl, when a man with bronze hair comes on the screen instead.

I try to continue speaking each time that I see myself back on the camera, but I'm seeing so many others whom I vaguely remember.

President Snow seems to be getting more and more furious, with him yelling at me to be a better leader and to follow what is on the teleprompter, and to focus.

Finally I see that we're back on camera and Snow is forcefully taking the reins.

"Well, I like the little attack on the Capitol. Very well done. It's clearly the rebels are now attempting to disrupt the dissemination of information they find incriminating, but both truth and justice will reign. The full broadcast will resume when security has been reinstated. Now Peeta if, given tonight's demonstration, do you have any parting thoughts for Katniss Everdeen?" President Snow states and questions.

Hearing her name and now getting so many visuals of her, my face suddenly contorts on its own and I get angry and kind feelings in my heart. Instead of speaking from the teleprompter, I speak from my heart.

"Katniss...how do you think this will end? What will be left? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts. And you...in Thirteen…" I inhale sharply, suddenly fighting for air that I never knew I needed before, and I can feel my eyes growing large and I feel a monster come out from within me that I've never experienced before. "Dead by morning!"

To my left President Snow shouts "End it!" and on the television screen are multiple shots of this girl, Katniss in different settings. I have this urge to kill her, yet help her! I don't know what to do.

I keep trying to continue speaking about Katniss and the rebels, this is coming from a place in my head that I cannot seem to reach at the moment until I see that President Snow isn't very pleased with what I'm doing. In the heat of the moment, he knocks over the camera which I now realize is still filming me and he charges towards me, smacking me in the head for no reason, and me falling to the floor, my head smacking off the tile and a small trickle of blood is streaming out of my mouth.

I cry out in pain and I am knocked unconscious by another blow.