A/N: You are all amazing. I love you if you're reading this! :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Hunger Games. It belongs to Suzanne Collins.
EDIT: I have gone back and revised this story, so this is the updated version, which is slightly different then the original.
I walk through the deserted halls of the Training Center. We arrived at the Capitol yesterday, and the stylists have occupied every moment since we arrived. I haven't even had a chance to say hello to Cinna or Portia yet, seeing as they failed to arrive at dinner last night and they're far too preoccupied with Calliope and Damian during the day to have time to speak with me. The chariot rides went smoothly, and Cinna and Portia dressed them in outfits similar to the ones Peeta and I wore last year. However, the audience seemed to expect it, and they weren't as surprised nor impressed as they were during our Games.
I reach the room that used to be mine. I consider opening it to have a look around before I remember that Calliope is staying there now, and doing so could be seen as an invasion of her privacy. I head to the lavish rooms afforded to the victors, and can't help but compare them to the old room I shared with Prim before the Games. I wiggle my toes in the hard, shiny shoes Effie insists I must wear from now on. I miss my hunting boots. Not for the first time, I wish I were back home.
In my room, I strip down before slipping on a soft shirt and a silky pair of pants. I lay down in my bed and long for the comforting rock of the train. Eventually, I give up on sleep and head down to the kitchens in the hope a lone attendant will be there.
When I walk in, considering whether to order hot chocolate or plain milk, I am surprised. Calliope sits on one of the uncomfortable dining chairs, her back to me. I tilt my head and see the edge of her hands wrapped around a white mug.
So she couldn't sleep either.
I walk up next to her and sit beside her, careful to make no noise. I glance at her then, turning my head back to face the front, and say, "It's hard to sleep here."
She jerks around, hair flying. A drop of milk flies out of the mug and splashes onto her face. She slowly lifts her sleeve to wipe it off.
"Let me show you somewhere," I say, standing up. For some odd reason, I want to show this girl everything. I want to tell her things I haven't told anyone, even Prim. Perhaps it's the promise given to me by the Capitol that, soon, her voice will be silenced forever. Or perhaps it's just because, like with Rue, I feel like I can trust her.
It's only when we've made it to the roof do I realize she never set down her cup. Gently, I take it from her and set it down on the ground.
She walks forward and stares out over the railing. I'm lost in thought when she says, "Sometimes I feel like it would be better to just jump."
I silently glid forward until I am only feet from her. "You can't."
"Why?" she asks, her voice hitching. "I'm going to die anyway. I don't want to die in grisly entertainment of Capitol citizens. I want to die as me."
Her words remind me of Peeta, and what he said on this roof. I slowly back away. I shouldn't have shown her this place. Now this place is just as spoiled as all the others. Using the hunter's tread I have developed over the years, I inch out the door. At the last second, the door bangs shut. I only see her frightened face, facing the glass door, for a millisecond before I turn and sprint back to my quarters.
I collapse on my bed, not crying, just staring up through the window in the ceiling. Bright stars twinkle on the midnight blue sky and I long to be free, up there in the sky. I calm myself with the thought that's where Peeta is now, safe and happy. Eventually, I drag myself out of bed long enough to hop in the shower and scrub myself down. By the time I get out it must be almost seven, so I change into plain brown pants and a white tunic. When I make it to breakfast, the Capitol attendants are still laying out the food. I glance out of the window and for the first time realize it cant be past 5:30.
"I'm sorry," I say to them. "Should I wait?" They shake their heads quickly and speedily lay out the rest of the food.
Halfway through my second plate, someone finally arrives. Damian, dark circles under his eyes, stumbles in and plops down at the table. Seeing he has no interest in serving himself, an attendant runs forward with a plate of assorted food which he lays in front of Damian.
He grabs a fork and stabs it viciously into a piece of pineapple. Then he drops his fork and rests his head on his hands.
"Damian?" I ask faintly. "Are you okay?"
He sighs. "Yes, Katniss. But you and I both know that in the arena I won't last long. Calliope can't be the only strong one going in the arena."
"Well," I say. " I guess we'll find out tonight."
Halfway through the day, there's an announcement. Training has been postponed to the next day. Soon it's night and time to watch the already-delayed recap of the reapings.
The two broadcasters come on TV. They begin with District 1 as usual and work their way up to District 12. A few catch my eye. Almost all of the Careers are volunteers. There is an old woman from District 7. A twenty-five year old from District 10. But by far the worst is a little five year old boy from District 5. And when they ask for volunteers, there are none.
I hear the clucking of the commentators. They speculate about his parents- if he's an orphan, an only child. It's heartbreaking to see the little boy walking up to the stage, oblivious to the fate that awaits him.
Calliope leaves after District 5, along with Effie, leaving only me, Damian, and Haymitch left to watch them.
By the time the show is over, I feel sick. The thought of not only the little boy but of the old woman from District 7 and the young girl from District 11 are the source of my nausea. None of them stand a chance. The Capitol will kill them all.
I go straight back to my room and flop onto the bed, still fully clothed. I know Damian will not stand a chance in the arena. Not anymore. If Calliope wasn't enough to stop him before, then surely the twenty-five year old man from District 10 will kill him. But Calliope might win. But it is it worth sentencing a man to death?
I cover my face with my hands. What can I do? I take a deep breath and sigh. What would Gale want me to do? The thought makes me more confused and I shove it out of my head. I try to think of anybody who had been in such a situation before, but my mind is blank. Eventually I fall asleep, my mind reeling.
I dream of the arena again. Only this time, I am watching from the sidelines. I see the man from District 10 rushing at Damian. The man stabs Damian in the stomach, and he falls over. The little boy crawls out of the bushes.
"Damian?" he asks innocently, and the man charges. He unsheathes his sword, and uses it to kill the boy.
I wake up screaming.
I hear a thumping from down the hall and a minute later, a figure walks into my room. I peer forward to see Damian standing in the doorway.
"Did someone scream?" he asks.
I am frozen with surprise. Eventually, I find myself able to move my mouth enough to speak.
"Yes."
"What's wrong?" he asks kindly.
"Nightmare," I say. Suddenly, I feel embarrassed. Damian is the tribute, I'm the mentor. I should be comforting him.
"I'm- I'm sorry," I mutter.
He stares at me for a moment, and I can tell he sees I want to be alone. He nods, and goes to leave.
"And Damian?" I say when he's in the doorway. He turns to face me. "Thanks." He nods again and leaves.
The next morning when I head to the breakfast table, I am surprised to see Haymitch sitting there with a plate of food and a glass of orange juice, with no alcohol in plain sight.
I sit beside him in confusion. Suddenly, I see him pull a bottle out from under the table. He is about to pour some into a glass when I grab it from him.
"Wha' the hell?" he says angrily. "Give it back!" His voice is slightly slurred, leading me to believe this isn't the first drink he has had this morning.
"No," I say. "No. You keep drinking, they're going to die. Don't you want to keep them alive?"
Haymitch lunges forward and snatches the bottle from me. He stops to take a swig before speaking. "They're gonna die anyway. Have you ever noticed no District has ever won two years in a row? If the other tributes don't kill them, the Capitol does."
"That doesn't mean it's okay not to try. Is that what you do every year? Just say, oh, they're not going to win, and give up?" I am angry now, not just that he was drinking, but that he didn't even bother to try to keep these people alive.
Haymitch stands up angrily. "You have no idea." And he storms out, leaving the bottle on the table.
I sink back into my chair, ignoring the food the attendant placed in front of Damian arrives he sits next to me.
"Katniss," he says halfway through his meal. He pushes forward his plate and it makes a screeching noise on the table.
"What?" I say looking away.
"You know what," he replies. He leans forward. "You and I both know I won't last long in the arena anyway. But Calliope might make it. "
I shake my head in denial. "I- I can't just kill you. You're Gale's uncle!"
Damian sighs. "You won't be killing me. The Capitol will be. Not you."
I sigh, and I am about to argue when Calliope comes in. Immediately I shut my mouth. She doesn't notice. Damian sees my face and shuts up too. But when Calliope turns the other way to fill up a plate with food, he mouthes to me 'Later'.
I watch them eat, waiting for Effie. Finally she comes in, her eyes red and puffy. We can all tell she's been crying, but none of us comment on it.
"So," she says quietly, lacking her usual exuberance. If Effie's in such a state I can only image how torn up the Capitol audience must be. Last year when I got out of the arena Octavia started sobbing because Peeta died. When this little boy is killed, who knows what will happen? The sound of Effie's voice jerks me out of my trance. "Tomorrow you will begin your training. You will be in the bottom floor of the Training Center, where you will have a few days to train before being sent to the arena. Katniss, Haymitch will show you what you'll be doing for the duration of the Games." I nod, and Calliope mimics my movement. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Damian staring at her.
The day seems to pass slowly, although I know in the tributes' eyes it must seem to pass in a moment. Halfway through the day I see Cinna and stop to say hello. We have time to talk for several minutes before he has to go.
Finally, the day comes to an end. But right before I am about to go to sleep, I am interrupted by Damian.
He knocks on my door before sticking his head in.
"Katniss," he says. "We need to talk."
A/N: Review or PM me with comments :)
EDIT: Currently under the revision process. One chapter will be posted a day!
