The Night Before The Quell

Beetee and I sit on the ashes of my house for a long, long time, until the fog grows darker than it was before.

We really can't see the sun or the moon in our district because the smoke obscures it all; we have to make out whether it's night or day by observing the color of the smoke.

Beetee takes a small, empty vial out of his pocket, and motions toward the ashes. I know what he's thinking.

"Beetee, if I took these ashes with me…they would make me…I would be…"

"It would be too painful for you to remember," Beetee finishes, and I know that's true. Everything I ever had was lost in the fire, including my little giraffe. At least I only work on my inventions at Beetee's house…they're still over there.

I still don't understand why they only burned my house down, not any other Victor's, not even Beetee's, but he says that it's because I'm the only living Victor to have won without taking a life.

Beetee starts a thought, "I regret…having to have…"

"Taken lives in order to save yours," I finish, for once.

"Wiress…I have a spare bed in my house. You can sleep there, until the…"

"Quarter Quell. I really don't want to…"

"Go back into the arena."

"I don't want to die, Beetee. All of these things we could all do—everyone in Panem—I don't want it to just end—just like that. Everyone and everything has a purpose, just like a machine. I don't want to be like a…"

"Broken machine. Without purpose."

"Beetee, will it...will the..."

"Will Plutarch's plan work? It must. I couldn't live if you don't survive this Games until the plan is enabled. You are the very best friend I have ever had, Wiress-I couldn't stand it if you died."

"Beetee, you must...live. You're more..."

"Important? Absolutely not! If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't know what to do in the first place. You are every bit as important to the rebellion as I am, Wiress-and perhaps more so."

"I...I'll try to forget about t-tomorrow. Let's think about other things. Happier things. Why are we wasting our time talking about this blasted Quell?"

"You're right, Wiress..." We lie down in a patch of sidewalk that isn't concealed with ash, and stare at the fog for a long, long time. What would the sky look like if all of this fog was blown away? I'd love to see that. A clear sky. I've only seen that in other districts.

We both sigh, and grimace shortly afterwards. We trudge back to Beetee's house, and I crawl into the spare bed. The room is covered in all sorts of little gadgets and gears, reminiscent of—of my house. My house is now a broken machine. Without purpose. I sigh again.

I stare out the small, circular window. Through the think smog, I can see a faint light. It would have been nice if it was a star, but it was probably just an electric light. I try to imagine it as a star, anyway. I forget about tomorrow.

I go to sleep with a wry smile, like the moon I saw in the illustrations. I dream of a star. A pale yellow one, almost white. But it isn't.