A/N: First off, I want to apologize for the time it took to post this chapter. I had a few exams with school, but I know I promised an update a day- that just wasn't possible for me this week. Sorry! Also, I want to apologize for the shortness of this chapter- it just seemed like a good place to cut it off. Again, thanks to the readers of this and please review with comments!
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 sigh. "Come on in Damian," I say. He walks through the door and looks around.
"Is this what life's like as a victor?"
I blush. "This is a bit more lavish then I'm used to." He continues to stare around the room. I can't blame him. The room has white wallpaper with golden decorations all over and thick, fluffy carpet. My bed is huge; five of the bed I shared with Prim would fit on here. The bathroom is just as richly decorated.
"Umm." His presence makes me nervous, and suddenly I forget why he's here. "You wanted to talk to me?"
He rips his eyes off the painting of a pure white owl framed on the wall and turns his attention back to me. "Yes." Even though I know what to expect, his next words still shock me. "You need to kill me."
The way he phrases it horrifies me, and my eyes widen. "No. No, I can't kill you."
He sighs. "I'm not entirely in love with the idea either. But it's the only way Calliope can stay alive."
"I'm not just going to give up on you from the beginning. Calliope needs to be taught. She has no idea how to survive in the wilderness, and she has no idea how to be hungry. She needs your help."
Damian puts his head in his hands. "So you're saying if I keep her alive until the end you'll- you'll make sure she gets out alive... instead of me?"
Hating myself, I nod. A peculiar expression comes across his face that I can't quite place. The fact that it's a mixture of different emotions makes it even harder to place, but then I do. Relief, triumph, and fear. The last one looks so out of place on a grown man's face. I look away.
"Thank you," he finally says, his voice only slightly quavering. He turns to leave, but a second before he is out of my sight he turns. "And Katniss," he says, "tell Gale it was my idea." Then he turns and walks out the door.
I lay on my bed, rest my head on my pillow, and close my eyes for what I tell myself will only be a minute. A moment later, I am asleep.
The next thing I know I am laying on my bed, morning sunlight streaming through the skylight. I am confused for a moment by what awoke me before I hear the continued rapping of Effie's fingernails on my door. I close my eyes. For a moment, my mind is blissfully blank before the previous night's conversation floods back into my memory. Inadvertently, I sigh.
I slowly get up and dress in simple black pants and a black shirt. I see my mockingjay pin sitting on the table. Even though it seems silly, I place it through the two holes in the top of my shirt.
When I make it to the breakfast table, Effie immediately points out my accessory to everyone at the table by practically yelling, "Katniss, you put in your pin!"
I sit down at my seat, ignoring Haymitch's roaring laughter and Calliope's tiny giggles. Damian is the only one who maintains a straight face.
"So," Effie says after the laughter died down. " In a few minutes I'll take you guys down to the Training Center," she says, directing her words to the tributes. She turns to face me. "When I leave with them, Haymitch will escort you down to the Control Center." I nod, and turn my attention back to the food. It's a banquet today, and I try to think back to the day before I went into training, trying to recall if it was this good. But all I can remember is the pinched feeling of nervousness.
Effie leaves early with Calliope and Damian today, because last year we were late to training. I finish my food soon after she leaves, and wait impatiently for Haymitch to finish his meager breakfast of buttered toast and a glass of grape juice. When he's finished about half the glass, he begins to look drunk. I lean forward to take a whiff of his drink and realize it's wine. Carefully, while's he's occupied with taking tiny bites of his toast, I take the glass from his spot. He fails to notice. Then I turn around and in one swift movement dump the contents of it onto a plant in the corner. I know the alcohol will probably kill the plant, but a plant's life is worth two human's.
By the time Haymitch wants more of his wine, I have refilled the glass with the dark purple grape juice from the pitcher in the middle of the table. He takes a gulp and frowns. "This taste's weird," he comments.
I fake a sigh and lean back. "Hurry up Haymitch," I say, tapping my fingers on the table.
He tips his head back and drains the rest of the glass in one gulp. He takes one last bite of his toast, leaving about three quarters of it still on the plate, and gets up unsteadily from his chair. Without telling me where he's going, he turns and walks out through the kitchen door.
I follow him, and halfway through the door, he stops and abruptly turns around, running into me and almost knocking me over. "Wha' are you doing?" he asks, a touch of anger in his voice. He pushes me aside and walks straight out the door. I follow him, taking only a moment to glance at the shocked faces of the kitchen staff. He heads straight out the door and down the hallway to the elevator. He pushes the button and immediately it dings and opens. He walks in and, after checking his pockets for a few moments, finally withdraws a key pass. He swipes it through a slot near the door that I never noticed before, but the light turns red. "Incorrect," an electronic voice bleeps. He tries again, but again the light is red. Finally, I step forward and grab the card from him. I flip it over and shove it into the slot again. The light miraculously turns green. The doors slide shut, and even without Haymitch or I pressing a button, the elevator shoots down. A minute later it screeches to a halt. When the doors open, it's to a sight I didn't expect.
The walls are dark gray and every few feet a fluorescent rectangle lights up the room in a electronic glow. He stumbles down the hallway, leading me to a dead end. Just when I'm thinking he's lost, he turns and goes down a narrow hallway. It leads to another elevator, and the moment we step in, without swiping a card or pressing a button, the elevator jerks up. It takes a wacky path, not only moving up and down but side to side. Finally, after one last jerk to the left, it comes to a stop. When we come out, it's more to the sight I would have expected. The hallway is brightly lit, and every few feet it branches out into a room. Each one is labeled with a large black number above the door, ranging from one to twelve. At the end of the hallway there's a larger doorway labeled with Control Center. Haymitch staggers on to one of the last doors, the one labeled with the big black 12. I am again surprised by what I see. There are two stiff wooden chairs facing a TV screen in the corner. There is a small screen in the opposite corner and when I look behind it I see a small bathroom area and a button on the wall labeled Capitol Attendant. I turn around to find Haymitch grinning at me.
"You like it sweetheart?" he smirks. There's an uneven thumping from outside of the door and an old woman walks in. She's carrying a walker.
"Herrow," she says shakily. I'm not sure if I heard her right- her speech is garbled to the point I can barely understand her. "I'b Bags." Now I'm sure I can't understand her properly. I glance over at Haymitch, who's now sitting on the floor, a bottle of liquor in his hand, faintly singing a drinking song.
As though he can feel my gaze, Haymitch glances up and I look pointedly at the woman. "This is Mags," Haymitch introduces us. "District 4's first female tribute."
I glance at this woman and it's hard for me to see the victor in her. Then she smiles, and I can tell she won the Capitol over by her charm. Even though she lacks teeth, she has a pretty smile, and her eyes are like the ocean. When I look into them I feel like I'm lost in the many layers of her mind.
There's another knock on the door and I turn again to see another famous icon walking through the door. Finnick Odair, also from District Four. He won a while ago when he was 14. For a couple of years, the ladies had to leave him alone because he was too young. But as soon as he turned 16, all the women have been chasing him. Instead of being annoyed like I would have, he's learned to play it to his advantage. He bribes them and soon he became richer then any other victor was. He stays with the, accepts their gifts and then a few weeks later disappears. I am expecting him to be snobby, so I am surprised when he starts to talk to me about District Twelve. He seems to know a lot about it, and when I ask him why he says he's been on a lot of Victory Tours there. All the other mentors stay concealed in their rooms, not so much as peeking into the room to wave and say hello to Haymitch- though that doesn't really surprise me-, and I'm starting to think that District Four are the only friendly ones.
I am soon proved wrong. Within ten minutes half of the victors have come into our small room. Eventually, Finnick invites me to their room.
I knew that the Districts that win frequently would be treated better then us, but when I step into the room I am still more then slightly surprised. It's got a big screen television where we can watch the action of the show. Several cushioned armchairs sit in front of it. At the back of the room there's a large, fully-functional kitchen complete with a stove and fridge. There are several buttons stationed around the room labeled with Capitol Attendant. At the back there is a large door behind which I assume is their bathroom. Just by looking at the rest of the room I can tell it's ten times better then ours.
"So," Finnick says. "This is the control center for us District Fourers, if you will." He notices me staring around at everything. "I know it's a bit more luxurious then yours, but aside from One, Two, and Four, they're all the same. You can hang out here, if you like. All we really do is watch the Games. If you want to send your tributes something you have to go to the Control Center."
I nod at him. "Thanks, but I think I'll stay in Room Twelve with Haymitch."
For some reason, Finnick laughs. I frown at him, and, seeing the look on my face, he explains. " Haymitch never stays in Room Twelve. He's always with Chaff in Room Eleven."
"Oh," I say, feeling slightly embarrassed.
"But you can stay there if you want. After all, you would be a lot closer to the Control Center."
I nod and fake a smile before turning to Mags. "I'll see you soon," I say. She comes up to me and squeezes me into a almost forgotten embrace. I am shocked when I finds my hands coming up to hug her back.
Finally she lets go and I shake hands with Finnick before turning and going back to the lone, desolate room belonging to District Twelve.
A/N: Review or PM me with comments :)
EDIT: Currently under the revision process. One chapter will be posted a day!
