After all the tributes before me have gone it is my turn and as Caesar calls my name, Katniss Everdeen Mellark, you can almost hear a crack in his voice. There's no denying that Peeta and I are his favorites. He's said as much. I hadn't even thought how this would have bothered him. No one likes it that they're favorites are going back in and Caesar has had such little time to actually appreciate us, I feel bad for him a little, though I feel significantly worse for us.
As Caesar grabs my hand he gets right down to it, "So, Katniss, obviously this is a very emotional night for everyone. Is there anything you'd like to say?"
"I'd just like to thank the Capitol for being such wonderful wedding guests, I'll never forget that day as long as I live." I gesture to the dress, "this dress is actually designed as an ode to that one. Isn't it beautiful?" The crowd cheers. I don't even think about it, I just start to twirl slowly raising the sleeves of my gown above my head.
When I hear the screams of the crowd, I think it's because I must look stunning. Then I notice something rising up around me. Smoke. From fire. Not the flicker stuff I wore last year in the chariot, but something much more real that devours my dress. I begin to panic as the smoke thickens. Charred bits of black silk swirl into the air, and pearls clatter to stage. Somehow I'm afraid to stop because my flesh doesn't seem to be burning and I know Cinna must be behind whatever is happening. So I keep spinning and spinning. For a split second I'm gasping, completely engulfed in flames. Then all at once, the fire is gone. I slowly come to a story, wondering if I'm naked and why Cinna arranged to burn away my gown. I can only imagine the Panic attack Peeta must be having backstage.
But I'm not naked. I'm in a dress of the exact design as my purple dress, only it's the color of coal and made of tiny feathers. Wonderingly, lift my long, flowing sleeves into the air, and that's when I see myself on the television screen. Clothed in black except for the white patches on my sleeves. Or should I say my wings.
Because Cinna has turned me into a mockingjay.
"Feathers," says Caesar. "You're like a bird."
"A mockingjay, I think," I say, giving my wings a small flap. "It's the bird on the pin I wear as a token."
But I can tell by the look on Caesar's face that he knows that it is more than just a token I wear. More than just a decorative pin. He knows that the reaction here in the Capitol will be the exact opposite of those in the districts. Caesar compliments Cinna, has him stand and bow and I'm instantly so afraid for Cinna. He knows what he's done. An act of rebellion in itself. After some applause I go to take my seat, but as I pass Peeta he doesn't meet my eyes. Which seems odd.
Caesar and Peeta strike up a conversation on the dot, their camaraderie is evidenced by all. Peeta has such a way with crowds. "So, Peeta, what was it like when, after all you've been through, you found out about the Quell?" asks Caesar. I hang my head low.
"I was in shock." Peeta says.
"But, Peeta, the marriage?" asks Caesar. "The future." His voice cracks.
"Yes," Peeta pauses for a long moment, as if deciding something. He looks out at the audience and then at Caesar. "I'm sure we'd never have done it after we knew," says Peeta. What is he doing? "But who could've seen it coming? No one." There's real tears in his eyes. "We went through the Games, we were victors, everyone seemed thrilled to see us together, and then out of nowhere—I mean, how could we anticitapte something like that?"
"You couldn't, Peeta." Caesar puts an arm around his shoulders. "As you say, no one could've. But I have to confess, I'm glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together."
Enormous applause. As if encouraged, I look up from my feathers and let the audience see my tragic, honest, smile of thanks. The idea of the days to come has brought tears to my eyes, but I still can't figure out why Peeta's crying. What is going on with him?
"I'm not glad," say Peeta. Okay, I wasn't expecting that. "I wish we had waited."
This takes Caesar aback. "Surely even a brief time together is better than no time?"
"Maybe I' think that, too, Caesar," says Peeta bitterly. He wouldn't dare! "If it weren't for the baby."
He did it. And in so doing dropped a bomb that wipes out all the efforts of the rest of us, but that's not even what's bothering me. The little secret…this secret…I didn't want anyone else to know. The camera's shoot to me and my already teary eyes seem to have disfigured my face as I cry more. The crowd goes into hysterics, begging for the Games to be called off, for someone else to take my place, and endless, endless screams. After meeting Caesar's concerned eyes, Peeta nods and comes over to where we are. I automatically rise and, as I do, I sense Peeta reaching out for me. Tears run down his face as I take his hand. I don't need to question whether those tears are real or not because he squeezes my hand before he stands beside me.
In the chaos I turn to Chaff and offer my hand and when my hand clasps around his stump on his arm and hold fast. Hands are joined all over the stage and as we hold them high, more shouts come from the crowd and the lights are cut and we're in complete darkness.
When Peeta and I get out of the elevator on our floor, he grabs my wrist and turns me to him. "Do I need to apologize for that? I had to try to do something. I don't want you in this Game if I can help it."
I brush the back of my right hand against his face, "I don't think anything will change, Peeta. But no, I'm not mad at you for trying. That more than I was doing." I have to force it out, "but thank you."
As night draws near, Effie and Haymitch greet us. Two boxes in her hand, she hands one to Peeta and one to Haymitch. Peeta has to let go of my hand to open it and so I cross my arms over my chest. Peeta opens it to find a medallion and Haymitch has a bangle. "It's to show we are a team." Effie says with tears in her eyes. I say a quick thank you and embrace her, and I'm not sure if it's because I'm actually more attacted to Effie than I thought or it's my crazy hormones. Probably both if I'm honest with myself. I will miss Effie Trinket. When I feel Peeta rub my back I let go of Effie and stand back beside him. Peeta gives Effie a hug, but as soon as he lets go, she hiccups, "you two, deserved, so much better." And is gone from the room. She's right. With everything we've gone through and overcome, we do deserve better…we'll just never get it.
"Baby bomb was a stroke of genius," says Haymitch. "But—" Peeta cuts him off.
"It's true though Haymitch," says Peeta. I'd completely forgotten to tell Haymitch. And the look that overcomes his face is indescribable. I don't know how to explain it, and I'd be willing to bet, Peeta wouldn't know how to explain it either.
Haymitch hugs Peeta and Peeta thanks him. I hug Haymitch and remind him of the promise we made, Peeta lives. He nods, and turns to go but he stops momentarily. "Katniss, when you're in the arena," he makes eye contact with me. "You just remember who the real enemy is." I nod and he leaves.
Peeta and I go soundlessly to our room and cuddle holding onto each other like a vice. I don't want to let him go. I don't want to be separated from him. Neither of us can sleep so we stay awake all night long doing nothing but holding each other and occasionally kissing hands or cheeks or foreheads, we're both terrified of the next days. Scared to lose the other, that's what love does to you. I've barely gotten a handle on that feeling to understand it, and realize that I do love Peeta, to have that savagely taken from me. I hate Snow for this. I hate everyone responsible for this. My life is being ripped unceremoniously and mercilessly taken from me and I can't do anything about that. What future I thought I had – however scary – I don't have anymore. None of this is how I want it, none of this is right.
First, I was forced to pretend I was in love with Peeta to survive the Games, but I think somewhere along those lines I actually fell for him, but it wasn't until…until we got married that I realized how frightened I'd been of those feelings just how far away I tried to push them. This isn't fair…but then again, nothing in Panem is fair. When children are sent to reapings, when parents have to sit by and watch them die, when there can only be one victor, while they terrible Game continue, nothing is fair. Nothing about this life is fair. I'm sick of being a piece in their Games, and quite literally now for the second time…and this time, I know I'm not going to live. This time I know that I must keep Peeta alive no matter the cost.
Somewhere between fear and hatred I fell asleep. Peeta is gently coaxing me awake. "I don't want anyone else in there," I tell him. "Just you."
"If that's what you want," he agrees and then there is a knock on the door and Cinna alone walks in. Peeta kisses me, says, "I'll see you later," and leave the room. I'm such a mess I don't know what to think. I force myself out of bed and into the most accessible clothing, Cinna doesn't judge me, it wouldn't matter because I won't be in them for much longer. He says encouraging things to me, but as we take our seats in the hovercraft I have to keep pinching myself to keep in mind that this is not a bad dream…that I am on my way to the arena. That I'm days away from my death. I'll never see these woods again. Everything in the passing windows is the last shot of the outside world I will see, and I cannot even will myself to look.
When we reach my tube there is a jumpsuit down, I put it on and Cinna braids my hair. Before he says anything he places the mockingjay pin on my outfit. "Remember, I'm still betting on you, girl on fire."
"Ten seconds to launch," comes a voice from overhead.
I hug Cinna and thank him for everything and slowly and reservedly make my way to the tube. I step inside and it seals, but doesn't move. Why isn't it moving? And then I see it, Peacekeepers have entered the little cubical that I had just been standing in with Cinna and they are beating him. I'm screaming and banging on the glass but it's no use. As the platform begins to rise the carry an unconscious Cinna from the room and I know exactly what Snow is doing to me, and I know why.
The tube opens at the top as the disk is pushed through, and I'm blinded by the sunlight. I'm still hyperventilating but I will myself to focus. Water, and jungle. The arena this year is a jungle…lovely. I can see the Cornucopia in the middle and there is a bow and quiver full of arrows, I know I shouldn't charge there but I don't want to give someone else the opportunity to take them so as to make me defenseless.
Suddenly, I'm reminded that I'm not alone in these Games, "Peeta?" I search everywhere but I cannot see him. "Peeta?" He must be on the other side where I can't see him. A lump rises in my throat. If someone kills him before I get to him there will be hell to pay.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-Fifth Hunger Games begin."
And the countdown starts. 60 seconds. I have 60 seconds to get ready.
