Cool gusts of air brush past me, and I wrap my jacket around myself tighter. Through the branches and leaves, I can see the moon, full and beaming brightly back at me. I don't know what I'm doing in the woods at this late a time, and somehow, I can't conjure up any sort of memory of how I got here. All I know is that I'm here now, and that I am completely, utterly alone.
"Hello?" I call out, cupping my hands around my mouth as I desperately scour the woods for some sort of sign of life. "Anyone out there? Hello?"
"Skye!" The voice is loud, coming from behind me, sounding a bit surprised.
I whip around and almost have a heart attack. It's her again. The girl from my dream, the one who I first thought was Sage Mayflower, but later on gathered as myself. Except now, she's no little girl. She's an exact, perfectly symmetrical carbon copy of myself. Tall, in her teenaged years, looking slightly pale in the cold midnight air. It's as if I'm looking at a mirror.
"What are you doing here?" she asks me, concern across her face.
I open my mouth to speak, but I don't know what to say. "I-I-I don't know," I stutter. "Can you help me? I'm lost and I can't..." my voice trails away, hopelessness swirling inside of me. Suddenly, I feel extremely depressed. Like I know I'm about to die or something. I gulp down all the emotions and sobs threatening to push their way through my throat and I continue, "I can't remember anything," I say.
She smiles somewhat sadly at me. "Don't worry, Skye. You're all right. I'm glad you're here anyway. I've got to talk to you," she says.
"Talk to me? I don't—"
She cuts me off. "Come on, we don't have much time," she interrupts me, casting a worried glance at something behind her. She stalks up to me and loops her arm through mine, half-running, half-walking me across the woods. Because she's got me attached to her, I have to match all her long strides just to keep up.
Five minutes later, I'm panting insanely. "Where—are—you—taking—me?" I puff.
She peeks over her shoulder again, then forces her attention to the woods ahead of us. "Away," she says. "We can't be here, Skye. You can't die yet."
"Die?" I choke out, and for a moment, I stop dead in my tracks. But my strong look-alike forces me back into motion. "Who—who says I'm going to die?" I say.
"Listen, Skye," she tells me, completely ignoring my question. "You're going to go through a lot. If I don't get you out of here, you're going to die. And you can't, absolutely can't, die. You're extremely important. You're going to save lives."
I scowl, confused. "Save lives? You said it yourself, I'm going to die. How can I save lives if I can't even save my own?"
"You'll know," she says. "Eventually."
I glower at her, gritting my teeth. With all the strength I can muster, I wrench my arm away from hers and pull her to a stop. "I don't care whether I die or not," I growl, infuriated by her cryptic ways. She has just told me I'm going to save lives, yet she won't tell me how. "I want to know how I'm supposed to do what you're telling me to do. And I won't budge an inch if you won't explain to me, explain to me right now, every thing there is to know. Mysteries aside, let's speak in plain English."
She looks at me surprisedly, her eyes darting to something behind me, distressed. "Okay," she finally resorts. "I'll tell you everything, I promise. Let's just keep moving. Please, Skye. Let's go. We can't stay put," she says.
I think on it for a second, and then I nod solidly. "Okay," I agree.
The girl no longer looks worried, but scared. Terrified, she grabs my hand and breaks into a full-throttle run. Eventually, I slip my hand away from hers and pump my fists as I match every one of her strides. My wavy brown hair whips behind me as I bolt through the woods with the girl. "So, explain," I tell her in between pants.
"You're going to save everyone in the districts," she says. She's not panting, she's not huffing. She sounds like she's just talking a walk, not running a hundred miles per hour. "You're destined to help them, Skye."
"And how am I supposed to do that?" I yell over the roar of the wind blowing against my ears.
"You will find people," she tells me. "Powerful people, important people. Together, you will save the district people. The backpack—the one I gave you last time—has every little clue you will need. They will give you hints of who to trust. You're smart enough, Skye. You'll find them. But there is one person that you don't have to find."
"And who is that?" I ask.
She glances behind her before continuing, "It's the Mockingjay, Skye. The girl in the locket. She will reveal herself at the right time. And when she does, you will know that it is time to take over. Time to save Panem."
My mind goes back to the girl that she's talking about. The Mockingjay, she called her. The girl in the locket with olive skin, black hair, and gray eyes with her hair pulled back into a braid. Ever since the first dream, her face has been tattooed onto my brain.
"This... Mockingjay," I begin, panting even harder. "She's going to help me?"
My look-alike nods. "She will. She will be the icon of the rebellion. She's going to rally up the people for you. Unknown to her, of course. But you will know. And when you finally see her, do everything you can to keep her alive. She cannot die. When she dies, the rebellion dies with her."
"Why are we talking about 'the rebellion'?" I ask. "That happened nearly a century ago. It's already dead."
"Not that rebellion, Skye," she says. "It's a different rebellion. A new rebellion. A hopefully successful one, because the world can bear no more of this murder, this horrible act of slaying twenty-three children every year."
It dawns upon me, and, like soap clears away the dirt, everything makes sense now. My look-alike is talking about the Hunger Games. And she's telling me that I'm meant to stop it. To end it. As far as "crazy" goes, this is absolutely it. The most impossible, out-of-the-question goal has just been bestowed upon my shaky, fragile, Capitol shoulders. And, because it's my goal, it means that failure and every single life that it brings down along with it will be at my expense. No pressure, right?
"Okay, I am to keep the Mockingjay alive, is that all?" I ask her as we continue running. The woods seem endless, and so is the night.
"Basically, yes," she tells me. "That's one of your sub-goals. Your primary objective is to ensure that the rebellion lives, and that the Mockingjay lives. The Mockingjay will lead the rebellion and cause all the people to rise against the Capitol. If she is successful, the world will forever be in your debt."
"Anything else?" I ask hurriedly. I'm beginning to feel slightly disoriented, and I realize that my look-alike who's running beside me is beginning to look cobwebby. Like she's somewhat transparent. I somehow know I'm leaving again, and that I may never see this girl again.
She thinks for a moment, then says, "Don't forget the items in the backpack I gave you last time. I also gave Abel a backpack. All items in both of your backpacks will indicate the people of which your inner trust circle will be composed. Begin to plot out a plan when you find all of them. Trust each one of them completely, as doubt will only slow you down. Every time you come across one of these people, find the time to tell them about your mission. Some of them may withdraw for a period of time, but eventually, they will come back to you at the times when you need them the most. They will live to let you live, you will live to let the Mockingjay live, and the Mockingjay will live to let the rebellion live. It's that simple."
I nod, and more and more, my surroundings are gaining opacity. I feel lighter than a feather now, and I'm barely panting anymore, though I'm still running with my look-alike.
"I must leave you now," she suddenly tells me.
I whip my attention back to her. She's slowing in pace, looking slightly sad but determined. "Wait!" I call out. "Who are you, again?"
"Faun," she says, and she's farther away now, but she's screaming the words at me as tears trickle down her cheek. "I'm Faun, your twin sister!"
Twin sister? I don't have a twin sister. Do I? "Will I ever see you again?" I ask her. I want to stop running and come beside her again, and ask her more questions. But I can't stop. My body is moving, but I don't feel it.
Woefully, she slowly shakes her head as she stops in her tracks. A fresh set of tears stream down her face. "I die today. I die for you today. I love you Skye, don't forget me. Make me proud," she yells, and she disappears, the darkness eating her up. It's not just the distance anymore. She's become completely transparent, and so have the woods. All around me, it is dark, but I keep running, tears rolling down my cheeks.
Sobs rack through my body as I run in the complete darkness. I am clueless, I am lost, but most of all, I am sad. I don't understand the emotions inside of me. I'm confused, yet I'm sure that I feel as if I've just lost a close friend. And maybe I have.
Suddenly, in the far end of the darkness, there is a glowing light. It seems to be at the line of my running, and probably I'm meant to walk into it. It's strange, because you usually hear people saying, "Don't go into the light." But there's just this sort of impression inside of me that tells me I'm supposed to go into it.
I pick up the pace, bolting even quicker as I begin to approach the light. In a matter of seconds, it has eaten the darkness up completely. I keep running, but it's so bright that I squeeze my eyes shut.
Then I realize that maybe I never should have, because slowly, I can no longer feel my body. Light as a feather, I feel as if I'm flying. The feeling is so free, so wonderfully delicious, that all the cares that have just been bestowed upon me seem to be slowly fading away.
Then there's this pumping sensation in my chest. No, it's not my heart beating. It's like something is hitting my chest, where my heart is. I feel something on my lips, and air entering through my mouth. The air fills me, and I there's something leaving my lungs, passing through my throat.
A paroxysm of coughs rocks through me. The moment I stop coughing, I feel as if a hundred pounds has been taken off of me. I suck in a lungful of oxygen, and my eyes flutter open. Instantly, I am attacked by the same bright light.
Everything happens simultaneously, and as soon as my vision clears and I get used to the light, I am weak and only faintly aware of my surroundings. Blocking the sunlight in front of me is Abel's face. Even half-dead, I recognize his features. But I'm too tired and confused to speak. Thankfully, however, he must've gathered that I'm okay, and he sits back with a sigh.
"Thank God," he breathes.
"Is she alive?" a voice says. I think it's Oakley's.
I'm okay, I think. Just completely wiped out. And though I try to keep my eyes open, for Abel's sake, weariness wins out and my eyelids slip over my eyes. It's strange, though, because I feel half-awake.
"Abel! She's gone again!"
Finger trace my wrist for a pulse, and then something sits lightly over my chest for a second, and eventually, it withdraws.
"No, she's just passed out," I hear Abel say.
"Is she going to be all right?" Oakley says. He sounds shaken.
"Think so. Did you call the others?"
"Yeah, I got Clive on the phone while you went under. They're coming."
"Good. Come on, we have to leave. She's shivering."
"What about Levi?" Oakley doesn't sound shaken anymore. He sounds absolutely terrified.
There's a sigh from Abel. "I tried. I couldn't find him. Better for the professionals to give it a shot. But right now, we've got to get Skye out of here. It's too cold, and she's soaking wet. I don't want to lose her again."
"Do you need help, man?"
"No, I'll be fine."
Abruptly, the sensation of being lifted off the ground flows through me, and I feel just as free as I did while running in the woods. Slowly, I drift off into sweet unconsciousness, but not before I start to wonder of what has become of my confidant, my brother, my best friend. My Levi.