This chapter. Took so long. To write. Sorry for not updating for … forever … I know I've gotten a lot more followers in the past couple months (which makes me really excited, THANK YOU) and a few people PM'd me asking if I forgot about the story or what. Sorry for that whole period of nothing new. I promise, I won't forget about this! Junior year just sucks right now, and I have so much school work plus field hockey every day, so trust me I'm trying my best to give you the best work I can! I hope y'all like this chapter
I awake to a start when the sun has just begun to toss beams of light over the horizon, barely lighting the sky and still not visible. I'm terrified and shaking, but this time I know I'm really awake, because the world doesn't seem far away. When I dream, everything is fuzzy around the edges and strangely shiny. This feels real, and I have a strange sense that the events of my nightmare aren't completely fabricated.
The grogginess of morning surrounds me and threatens to push me back into a slumber, but images from my nightmare swirl through my head, and I can only lay there on my bed, paralyzed with fear. A shrill scream invades my ears to rouse me and I cringe in response. This is exactly what I was afraid of.
Immediately adrenaline fills my blood and my muscles tense as I leap out the door and sprint towards the source of the noise. My instincts lead me to Katniss' bedroom, where I throw the door open and enter the chamber.
There she is, lying on her bed in the same shorts and tank top she was wearing last night. The shirt drifts up her stomach slightly, baring a strangely sensual section of her midriff. She's on her back with her hands clenching fistfuls of the sheets, and even though her head is turned away from me I can tell her face is twisted in pain. The yelling has decreased in volume, but she is still clearly enduring a horrific nightmare. I rush over to her bedside and shake her while calling out her name.
Suddenly, she jolts awake and rolls over to grab me by the neck, her dark grey eyes coming into focus on my soft blue ones. I am momentarily choked but unable to remove her hands from my throat. Katniss loosens her grip when she realizes it's me, but her hands still rest in their spot as she tries to understand what's going on.
"You were having a nightmare," I whisper after a brief glance to her fingers still surrounding my neck.
"I know," she says back in the softest voice I've ever heard her use. "Cato… the District 2 boy you fought… he was about to… he had a… he was going to…"
"Shhh," I soothe, leaning my face closer and slowly trailing my hands around her in a comforting embrace. "Cato won't touch you. I won't let him, I promise." Her body shifts up, welcoming the hug I offered, so I take this moment of vulnerability and push myself up onto the bed next to her to hold her closer.
What feels like only moments later, I wake up again in Katniss' bed cradling her in my arms. Her head rests on my right shoulder, and since she is turned towards me, our faces are mere centimeters apart. Her body is coiled up and pressed against me, but I lay flat because it feels like I'd never let go if I entwined myself with her. Her lips curl up at the edges in sleep, and I have an insatiable urge to bring my own to hers and close the gap I always feel between us, but I won't let myself.
My instincts tell me that it's just an hour past daybreak, and maybe Katniss senses this too because I hear a sharp, deep intake of breath and see her eyelids fluttering slightly, obvious signs that she's waking.
All of a sudden, she shoots up from my embrace, and a rush of cold air where she used to be reminds me of the wedge set between us that I wish I could remove. "Sorry," she manages as her cheeks redden in embarrassment and shock sets in over her features. Ironically, she apologized for something I only wanted to continue doing.
"It's fine," I articulate as I climb off her bed slowly, maintaining her eye contact the whole time in a subconscious effort to transfer a deeper meaning. Please come back to me. "Close contact will probably make it easier anyway. You know, for the cameras in the arena." I shove my hands in my pockets and stare down at the ground when she nods in response, unsure of what I should say. After a pause, I suggest breakfast with a gesture towards her door, no words necessary. She nods back silently again and we make our way to the dining hall so Haymitch can give us last minute advice and encourage us to eat as much as possible since it won't be as easy to get food in the arena today.
Little other conversation ensues over breakfast other than Effie's futile attempts at small talk. Before I'm completely aware of it, Katniss, Haymitch, and I are on the elevator in another building heading towards the hovercraft that will take us to the arena. My stomach churns in anticipation for the Games, even if I know I'll be guaranteed temporary protection from the Careers. It's not myself I'm worried about.
Haymitch lists off more advice he's been going over for the past few weeks already, and gives us both meaningful hugs when it's time to depart. "Stay alive," he offers with a bittersweet smile, and Katniss and I march headstrong towards the hovercraft.
As soon as we board, Peacekeepers push us into seats next to each other, and Seneca Crane himself walks from one end to the other with a threateningly large needle. Each tribute winces in pain when he administers some flashing metal piece into their arms, and when he asks for my arm, I hesitate.
"What is that?" I demand. Instead of answering immediately, he grabs me by the wrist and forces the needle painfully into my arm. It stings and pulls my skin taut, and I'm relieved when he pulls the syringe out.
"It's your tracker. It tells us where you are and if you're dead," he explains while pulling a new syringe out of his jacket. He makes searing eye contact with me before saying in a hushed tone, "If it can't register a pulse or if it gets destroyed, it means you're dead." I nod back at him slightly and he pauses before moving on to Katniss. She looks at me with brows furrowed in question, but I shrug back, unable to comprehend what he meant by his intense explanation, and mouth, I don't know.
That is the last image I have to remember of her, because afterward everyone goes into their stylists' quarters underneath the arena to get dressed. My meeting with Portia is brief. Standing there, I feel like I'm watching the scene from somewhere else, like I'm not in my own body. I watch myself embrace Portia after she helps me into my Gortex jacket, and enter the glass tube. My hands press up against the clear tube and the heat from my palms and breath fog the glass while I ascend into the arena.
The countdown begins at 60 seconds. This is not real, I tell myself. This is a dream, my mind rationalizes. If I pinch myself, will I wake up?
52. A sickening feeling takes over my lower abdomen, from where it feels like adrenaline is pumping to my entire body. I frantically search each pedestal for Katniss, but I can't find her. The enormous golden Cornucopia that stands in the center all the podiums blocks her from my view, but I desperately want to see her, to look for strength or to lend my own.
45. Looking across the arena, I see Clove, the vicious District 2 girl with the knives, and Glimmer, the District 1 girl, directly next to the two spaces Katniss must be, and my heart sinks. By this evening, Katniss could be lost and bled white at the hands of a pretty blonde and a malicious black-haired girl coming at her from both angles. They're in the Career alliance I agreed to join, and they think I joined to help them find the girl they want to kill for one-upping them in training. What would stop them?
38. Next to me are little Rue and the broad-shouldered Thresh that I wrestled in training, both from 11. The little 12-year old looks so small standing on her pedestal, and even younger than she really is when I see the fear in her face. Thresh is on the other side, and I can admit I'm very intimidated by him. If he kills me, I can't provide any protection to Katniss.
30. For the first time, I look towards the Cornucopia to see the weapons and supplies. As if by instinct, I immediately spot two bows and quivers that almost beg me to take them. What if I just took them and ran for Katniss? A quick glance to my right nullifies that option; there are 4 Careers – Dorian and Orabel from 4, Marvel from 1, and Cato from 2 – to Thresh's right who would immediately recognize me as a traitor and come after me.
18. Surrounding me are dead children. They might as well be dead, anyway. 23 of these kids, possibly including me, will be dead within the next few weeks. It's repulsive. It's difficult to comprehend. It's the Capitol's fault.
12. I wonder where Gale is right now. Maybe he's in front of the Justice Building, watching me on the giant television, hoping and praying that I come home alive. Maybe he's at home watching with Rory, Vick, Posy, and Hazelle. Maybe he's in the woods trying not to imagine that I won't return.
5. Shake it off.
4. Try to forget it.
3. Survive.
2. Protect yourself.
1. Protect Katniss.
Let the 74th Hunger Games begin.