Thank you again to everyone who reads this story, it really is amazing to have positive responses. I appreciate all the people who take the time to read it, it's great to know that it's liked. Enjoy the chapter!
-Pneuma
"This is just so exciting! How wonderful, someone taking initiative! You've got just the right spirit!" Effie Trinket says once I'm on the stage. She doesn't look at my face as she speaks to me. It seems the only appeal I hold is that I volunteered. The crowd is still silent, but I'm determined to do this right. I have to play the right cards.
"Thank you," I say quietly, offering a small smile that I can see reflected on the screens. The effect I was going for is almost ruined by the way my scars tighten, whiten, and protrude slightly away from my skin. I stop smiling, and look at the ground.
"What's your name dear?" she asks.
I look back up. "Tamsin," I tell her. I don't use the Everdeen last name. I'm not sure why, but I can't bring myself to play that card. I'm not part of their family really, that's just the name that gets me tesserae for them.
"Well Tamsin, it's lovely to have someone like you here! Everybody, give our newest tribute a round of applause!" I close my eyes. I am afraid of what they will do, so I brace myself. I am surprised when I hear nothing. I know that they didn't applaud Katniss out of respect, but I wondered if I might get cheers simply because they were glad to be rid of me. I open my eyes to a silent audience. I press my lips together. I don't want to cry, but I feel like I might.
Then, as I work hard to fight back tears, I watch as a ripple of hands move into the air. Fingers touch lips, then raise towards me. My fingers clutch at the sides of my dress, but I do not look away. They may not have liked me, but it seems that somehow, because I've chosen to take the place of Prim, I have earned their respect. Respect for the dead maybe, but it's something I've never had here.
Haymitch staggers forward, the drunken wobble he is somehow pulling off pushes Effie off to the side roughly as he manages to sling his arm over my shoulders. I've seen this coming, I know that Haymitch must deliver his drunken message to the audience, but his breath still makes my stomach churn. I begin holding my breath, wondering if my training will be able to last as long as he can speak.
"Look at her, look at this one! I like her!" he teeters to one side, and I feel myself start to sway over as well. I'm still holding my breath as I stare into the audience, picking out familiar faces. I see Mrs. Everdeen looking at me with an expression of slight disbelief. I see Katniss looking at me as if a tiny bit of realization has dawned on her. I wonder if she's realized that this is why I asked her to teach me how to hunt without asking for anything for myself. I see Prim, who is crying, and I look away. "Lots of…" he pauses for enough time that I'm thinking I might be able to sneak another breath, then says "Spunk! More than you!"
He stumbles away, releasing me unexpectedly enough that I almost fall over, and makes his way to the front of the stage. I seize the opportunity to take another breath. Haymitch, now at the front of the stage, points at the camera and repeats, "More than you!" Then, as he takes another breath to enable himself to continue his speech, he trips and falls off the stage and is knocked unconscious. I glance back at Effie, who is trying to readjust her precariously positioned wig in a casual way, so that nobody will notice as they watch Haymitch get loaded onto a stretcher and carried off. Unfortunately, her efforts seem to be ineffective, and so she holds the wig on with one hand.
"What an exciting day!" Effie trills, hand on the wig. "But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!" She plunges her hand into the glass bowl holding the boys' names and my eyes find Peeta. He is looking at me with an expression of shock on his face, as if he is still stunned by what I did. I wonder why, since the only other people still looking at me with unusual expressions are the Everdeens, which is understandable. I look away from him as Effie regains her place in front of the microphone and unfolds the paper. I don't want to see his face when she reads his name. "Peeta Mellark!" she cries, and he steps out of line. I hear his footsteps but keep my eyes on my feet. As the footsteps reach the stairs onto the stage, I can't help it. I look at him.
He is pale as he walks slowly up the stairs, and when he looks up at me again, I can see the fear in his eyes, even though I can tell that he is trying to keep his face unperturbed. I smile a fraction in what I hope is an encouraging way, then catch another glimpse of my face watching him on one of the screens. The smile looks frightening, so I stop. I should just learn to stop smiling. Facial expressions don't suit me. Once he is onstage, Effie asks hopefully for volunteers. When there are none, I have to commend her in that her face is only slightly tinged with disappointment.
We both stand on the stage as the mayor reads the Treaty of Treason, and since it's too boring to pay attention to I end up fiddling with a loose string on my dress and shifting around absentmindedly. A little ways away from me Peeta is more still, and I'm sure it's because the blow of this situation is starting to sink in for him. I'm not shocked, obviously, because I've been working towards this for two years and in a way this is a relief. In another way it's nerve-wracking, since because of me the game has been changed and I don't know how it's going to end up. If I don't play the game well, Peeta could die. When the mayor finishes, Effie bustles back to the podium.
"Now tributes, please shake hands!" she chirrups, motioning for us to do so. I turn to face Peeta and offer my hand. For some reason the solid strength of those hands calms down the little part of me that is frightened. I will do everything I can to make sure this boy makes it out of the arena. He looks me in the eyes as we shake hands, and I try to hold his gaze, but right before we turn away from each other to face the crowd I can't stop my eyes from flicking down. If he dies before me, I'll go too and take as many people down with me as I can. I don't want to come back here. It's a horrible thought, but it's the truth. The Panem anthem plays, and I stare straight forward again, this time not in danger of tears. Then the Peacekeepers come and escort us into the Justice Building.
I am led to a small room that is more lavish than anything I've ever seen in District 12, but somehow it seems more familiar to me than what I've become accustomed to for the past couple years. My legs twitch slightly as the friction between them and the velvet of the couch generates a static shock. I hold still for a moment, then relax back into the couch with my eyes closed. My scars are itching me, but I've learned to keep my hands away from my face. It only makes it worse if I rub too hard.
To my surprise, the door opens. My eyes fly open, and I look over to see the Everdeen family. Katniss in her mom's pretty blue dress, gazing at me oddly. Mrs. Everdeen is behind her, eyes shining with tears, and Prim is sandwiched between them, eyes red from crying, which she is still doing.
"Hi," I say, unsure of what to do. Prim walks to me and hugs me tightly, crying harder as she does so.
"Why did you do it?" she whispers through sobs. "Why did you volunteer?" I pat her on the back awkwardly, not quite sure how to respond to this.
"You're needed here, Prim," I tell her.
"But so are you," she says. I smile a little, knowing that she at least is not scared by this.
"I don't have a family here to miss me, and your family would have been sick with worry," I tell her. "It's really better like this, don't you think?"
"I'll miss you," she tells me. "You may look tough but you're nice." This makes me laugh.
"I'm glad you think so," I say. Katniss steps closer to me, and I can tell that she is hesitant.
"You didn't just want to learn how to survive from me, did you," she says. It's a statement, not a question. "That's why you gave us everything." My lips twitch and I'm trying not to smile.
"No, it really was about survival. Just not the kind you thought," I answer her. Both Prim and Mrs. Everdeen gasp softly at this.
"You wanted to go?" Prim asks me.
"I wanted to be ready to take someone's place. And who better to substitute in for than my first friend?" She smiles a tiny bit at this.
"Thank you," Mrs. Everdeen says quietly. "I don't know how what we would have done."
The door opens again, and the peacekeeper outside of it motions for them to leave. I didn't realize it had been long enough for them to go.
"We'll watch you," Katniss says, and then they are taken away. The door closes again and I'm left alone. I should have realized that they would come, after all it was Prim's place that I took, and Katniss's, but they don't know that. I lay back again, sure that nobody else will come, but I am shocked when the scenes from the book play out even without Katniss sitting on this couch. Cookies from Peeta's father. Even the pin from Madge.
"What you did was brave," she tells me when she comes in. "Nobody else has done that here."
"Nobody else needed to," I say. She studies my face, even my scars.
"You know, at school I always thought you were kind of like me. Both of us really don't fit in, neither of us are looked at very kindly because of things we can't control. It was a little comforting to me to know that someone else in the district was like that," she says. It's the most I've heard her speak. Then she says, all very quickly, "You're allowed to take something from your district into the arena with you. I want you to wear this." The pin comes off of her dress and is pinned to my collar quickly. The moment she is done, the peacekeepers are there and she leaves. I touch it carefully. I'm glad she came. Her visit, more than anybody else's, has made me feel like my time in the district was more than just living to die.
Nobody comes after her. I lay back on the couch and stare up at the ceiling. There are no water spots there for me to focus on, but I stare anyways. It's oddly peaceful to me. Everything has started to come together for me. All the fatigue, the starvation, the training at all hours of the day, pushing myself harder than I've ever pushed myself before coming here, all of that is over. It will always be over, because I won't be going back to District 12 after the games. Not alive, anyways.
When the visit time is over, I am escorted into a car, and in moments I'm at the train station. Peeta is already on the platform, it's interesting to me that they took him in a separate car. I wonder mildly if they used to drive the tributes together but stopped after something happened. Maybe they killed each other on purpose in there, like some sort of pact to avoid dying in the arena. I walk to join Peeta on the platform. The cameras are trained on us, I can see my face next to Peeta's on the television screen. He's been crying, I can tell.
"Sorry this happened," I mutter quietly as I stand next to him. "I hate seeing your face on that screen." I'm clutching the cookies tightly in both hands as I take my last look at the district.
"Well, there's a better chance we'll get cake this time I guess," he mutters back. I allow myself smile a tiny bit, keeping my eyes on the screen to make sure I stop before it gets creepy. I don't want to scare sponsors away before I even do anything.
"There better be." Then the doors open and we are in the train.
