The night before, I'd dreamed of clowns.

That wasn't unusual, mind you, after my on-off time onstage. In the middle of a run I'd often dream about what we were doing; the songs, the dances, the lines running over from real life into my dreams the way they often do when you're busy. I liked those dreams. They were a nice change from the unending pounding nightmares.

But not tonight.

They were beautiful, the clowns, all of them, so smooth like the china dolls I wanted as a kid; but they were so soft too, like the rag dolls I've owned and loved. So colourful as well, tomato red and mossy green and grain golden. Their teeth were as sweet a white as any of Coro's roses and their smile was like icing on a cake.

They danced like they couldn't bear to ever stand still again, their strings curling up and waving, sometimes straining a bit when they moved too fast or pulled too hard. They sang with such burning excitement- they weren't singing words but the music did all the talking. They just wanted to play, nothing could be dull if everything was fun and everything I did seemed to please them (which was a relief.)

A feast was all laid out in big piles on a table, so much food it looked like it was about to fall over any second now. We all cheered and they clanged and banged their cups together in toasts so cheerfully it seemed rude of me to remind them that their cups were still empty.

I didn't eat any of the food- it was dream food, wasn't real, so no point in trying. But I sat down beside them anyway because there was this buzz to them that you couldn't ignore and they truly seemed to want me there more than anyone I knew in real life. They liked me. I couldn't turn away from that.

They all started eating, but when they did everything went wrong. There were those dry snapping sounds and their teeth splintered away and scattered like dry rice on the table.

All at the same time they turned and looked at me and they all smiled. It was the most terrible smile of all. I saw that their jaws were lined with huge thorns instead of teeth which split their lips apart and sent blood drip dripping onto the table; and still they just kept smiling even as the blood puddled and overflowed onto the floor.

I tried to run, I had to run, I had to get out of there and never go back but I was trapped in my chair. I struggled and fought like I was drowning but I was still stuck there just watching while they all stood up and moved towards me and their strings snapped with dry cracks and swung back into place with big gaping nooses where their hands had been tied. The blood was so thick it sloshed as they moved in tramp tramp tramping steps.

One tipped back the chair and there was a rush and a bang as I hit the floor but still I couldn't move. They wrapped their strings around my neck and tore at me with their thorns and I screamed for my mother, or Coro or Dru or Plutarch or anybody to help me even if they couldn't but I was the only one there who wasn't one of them so my screaming just went on and on until I was sure I should be dead why wasn't I dead yet surely I was dead and buried and dead-

Everything was dark when I woke up but the colours still burned through my head. There was a whine coming from the end of the bed and for a terrible moment I thought it was another dream because I do not have a dog-

I scrambled for the light and smacked it on. The whine was coming from a person hunched up in the corner of the room, like they were trying to block everything out. They jumped a bit from the light but just kept whining.

I was about to say "hello?" but I didn't because that's what everyone says when something creepy's about to jump at them and then they die. I just said "look up" and they did. At first I was sure this was a dream. What the hell was the First Lady of Panem doing crying in my bedroom at -I looked at the time. (Half past midnight, Coro would be home in an hour.)Half past midnight?!

I hoped that no folks would find about the fact she was crying in my bedroom at HALF PAST MIDNIGHT because that could lead to some weird-ass real-person fanfiction getting written. I didn't want any folks getting the wrong impression.

"Ma'am," I said, it might be half past midnight but she was still the First Lady. "Do tell me if I'm wrong, but I think you might be a bit lost, see, this is my bedroom and your mansion is about two miles away. Your house sure is big an' all, but ain't that big. I can get a taxi or something for ya, it's like important to make sure you're safe and all."

"Safe!" she howled and I leaped in surprise. I suddenly felt very guilty for worrying about what folks would think; and not about the fact she was having a nervous breakdown right in front of me. The sight of her, tearing at her hair, tears still not washing off the make up mask on her face. This was First Lady Vipsania, Vipsania who normally wouldn't give me the time of day, who was all friendly until she and I had a proper conversation during which she realised that actually, she don't speak redneck.

It would be like the devil himself tellin' me "You know what Leah, I'm gettin' real freaked out right now." I mean- it's the devil! He should be used to that! If he's freaked out, what's everyone else going to be? It was just like that, only much worse.

She winced when I came near her but I thought we should start by getting her out of the corner. Everyone feels trapped stuck in a corner. I practically lifted off her the floor and dumped her on the sofa in the living room. I wondered why she had come to me of all people for help, but then agin she was in shock so I guess I'm not supposed to expect her to act normal.

"I can never be safe," she sniffed. I offered her my hankie even though it was a bit dusty from my pyjama. She twisted it around and around in her hands. I guessed hillbilly cooties were no longer an issue. Things were definitely as serious as they looked.

"Um," I hopped slightly. I had no clue what to do, but I guess even then I had more of a clue than she did. "Just so you know, my, um, er, my next door neighbour gets back from work real soon and he might want um, a cup of tea."

She looked at me and her eyes went all wide. "No! Nobody can know I'm here! Ever! Promise me! You have to promise me you won't tell anyone, please, please, I'll do anything just don't tell them I was here!" Her voice rose and rose and got faster and faster until it was almost a squeak.

"I won't." She definitely wasn't thinking straight, seeing as how she was being so loud half my neighbours might guess she was here anyway. I gave her a random pat on the shoulder and for a moment the old Vipsania came back and looked at me like I'd just slapped her. Then she crumbled away and the nervous wreck came back and my stomach turned.

"I'm frightened," she whispered, in a voice that made me want to cry, but I didn't. I was supposed to help her now, what good would it do if I started crying? She'd just get more scared.

"Everyone's frightened," I told her. "I- I still get scared sometimes too." I looked at my feet. It's not really cool as a victor to admit that.

"Oh no. Not like this. Nobody knows fear like this." She sniffed. "Except me."

"What's it like?" I knew of course what it was like, but I thought it might be the right question to get it off her sweat stained, crumpled chest.

"Every gleam of silver in the corner of my eye is someone drawing a knife, every bang is a gun going off, every corner has something behind it waiting for me, every surface has something crawling underneath, every footstep is an enemy, every scream is a friend, or not, or worse, my children. Every look away means a liar, every stare is intimidation and I must think, I must breathe, I must sleep, I must keep calm but I can't think can't breathe can't sleep and being calm means I really do have reasons to fear!"

She smacked her head into her hands and wailed. I remembered wails like that from the arena.

"They're coming for me," she mumbled into her hands. "Whoever's doing this has already killed my husband. Once I'm dead, nothing will stop them getting what they want. I'm the last one. The last person who could be powerful enough to stop them. But I can't even stop them, I don't know who they are, I can't stop everyone. There's nowhere I can hide, they're going to get me. They're going to get me."

"They can't get you, you're the First Lady." That was half true, anyway. The sight of her in this state, when I think how proud and confident she used to be. I almost wanted the nasty haughty woman back. At least I knew her. At least she didn't frighten me the same way.

"You need to go back to normal." I told her and then quickly added "-that doesn't mean be calm." Oh no, Vipsania wasn't naturally calm. I swear you could have heard her tantrums half a city away. "There's that feast tomorrow- well, today now- celebrating the whatsit anniversary of who-really-cares. You could go along and have a nice party and when you feel more like you, you'll be able to think properly again."

She tried to laugh, but it turned into another sob. "I can't, I can't do it, I can't face them all."

"I'll come with you." The dream I'd had had put me off parties of any kind for about six months but it felt nothing less than evil to turn her away now. Even though I had a cornucopia full of excuses I could use (I need to stay home because home is where my fridge is; and my fridge is where I keep the eight tons of cherry pie that I'm cravin' right now) and I might be a rebel, but I didn't want to hurt someone just to hurt them. Besides, Vipsania would be the easiest president in the history of ever to overthrow. Especially; and I feel pretty bad for saying this, but especially if she got in this kind of a state again.

She clutched at me. "Then- then they'll get you too!"

"No, no no. Here's what we'll do." A plan, plans make everything better. "I'll come along to the feast. I can sit next to you" (for once, I added in my head) "We'll share a platter of food. We'll share a pitcher of water."

"Water?" The old Vipsania was creeping back, thank gawd. "Not wine?"

"I think it's best you keep a clear head. Wine'll shut things out for a bit, but when that bit's over it'll feel even worse. And you'll have a headache. Besides, I can't drink wine until after my little boy's born."

"They'll kill you!" She cried and then she said "They'll kill me!" And she cried even harder until she started coughing. I waited for her to stop but i waited a long time so I decided now might be the time for a hug.

"Pippi," I called her. It must have been some special nickname 'cause it made her calm down a little. "If you and I both drop dead at the same time-" she wailed again. "-it looks too dodgy. Folks ask questions and poke around. Nobody would do that, especially if we die at exactly the same time of exactly the same reason. That looks waaaay too weird. So they ain't going to do that. So we just eat and drink the same stuff and we can't both die. Besides, who'd want to kill me? I'm not a threat. If I was, you wouldn't be here now. Heck, there'll be cakes in the arena, or- I don't know, burning dresses. Wolves with perms. Magic clocks. Magic- fruit. There'll be all that and- I don't know, enemies holding hands and everyone winning the hunger games before I get any kind of power. Heck, I can't even spell inaug- innoggy- in, in-orgy-"

She smiled. "Inauguration."

"That's the one. See?" I prodded her face. "Wasn't that hard, was it?"

"OK," she whispered. I don't know if she thought this was a good idea (I didn't, not really) but it was the only plan she had left. "I should go."

"Oh, have a bath too." I realised that might sound mean. "To help you relax. Not if you don't want or anything."

But she had gone.

I woke up when Coro tapped me on the shoulder, more tired than before I went to bed.

What's the preacher saying?"

"Vanity of vanities, all is vanity." I hugged a cushion. Why is it possible that you can be too tired to sleep?

He hummed the national anthem as he hung up his coat. The past eight years he'd spent much more time here than in his actual apartment, even though it was next door.

"Why am I humming the national anthem?" He asked me. "I hate that stupid song. The music's insipid and the words make as much sense in the context of our nation as an aqueous fire extinguisher at the bottom of a swimming pool." He sighed. "Have you seen my cardigan?"

"Nope. Can't say I have."

"Leah, you're wearing my cardigan."

"Explains why I haven't seen it." I had a proper look at him. He seemed so completely content. The opposite of Vipsania. The quick change in mood made me feel a bit sick.

"Are you feeling out of sorts? Has someone been pestering you?"

"No." That was true though. Pestering didn't seem the right word for what had happened with Vipsania.

"How much cherry pie have you eaten since now and dinner?"

"I don't know, I never learned to count that high."

He laughed, but I just sat there hugging my cushion. Laughin' suddenly seemed a nasty thing to do.

I stared at my bare feet. I would have to tell him sooner or later. (But I could leave out certain bits.)

"Vipsania's invited me to eat with her at the feast tomorrow."

He was in the middle of untying his shoelaces. He stopped. He was thinking something over.

"So she's warmed up to you now?"

"I guess she's feelin' short of friends."

"Oh, I would think she is." He rubbed that space between his eyebrows where you get headaches. "You'll need a strong cup of tea to bear her company. Come to think of it, so will I."

He was right. We did.

"I don't know about you, but I'm off to bed." He reached out a hand and I took it but all I could think about was how the most powerful woman in the world couldn't keep herself safe.

That day passed really slowly and yet too fast at the same time. Each tick of the clock was like a sharp needle jab in my stomach and it got me so jittery I had to turn it off, but still it ticked on in my head.

It felt like the last day of the hunger games. I couldn't shake off the feeling that I was stumbling into something I couldn't stop, control or even understand.

We had tea, just like he said we would. But it didn't make things any better. It tasted really bitter, even after I poured in cream and sugar. But nothing tastes good when you're afraid.

The day just kept going and I found myself wondering where I'd be when it was finished.

"And then, I said to him, is that a canoe in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?" Vipsania screamed with laughter and everyone around her followed suit, except for Coro and me. Coro looked the way he always looked at parties. Bored.

"I don't get it," I whispered to Coro. "Why would someone have a canoe in their pocket?"

"I think the main concept is that he doesn't."

"Course not. Canoes don't fit in your pocket. If they did, they'd be pointless, 'cause you wouldn't be able to get in 'em and then you couldn't row, now could you?" I thought that was rather observant of me.

The feast in the president's mansion was in full swing. The music was wonderful, but I couldn't dance because we were in the middle of dinner and I've tried dancing while eating so I know it doesn't work. The lighting was all low, with all these fake candles that look so cool but aren't actually burning so you can shove your hand in the flame and everything. (I had a lot of fun playing with those when I didn't think anyone was looking at me.) They didn't have real candles because back in the day the fashionable clothes were all made of stuff that burns like crazy. (I think Vipsania's husband actually managed to bump people off that way, burn 'em to death and make it look like an accident 'cause of their clothes or their hairspray or they spilt nail varnish remover and it caught fire.) Low lighting is nice and all, but it's kind of stupid when you think about it, seeing as the whole reason to have lights is so you can see and everything at the feast was sort of all smudged up in shadows.

I slurped my water to emphasise my point. I had a small pack of drinking straws in my purse, 'cause I hate wearing lipstick and then when you drink from a glass and it leaves a big greasy smear on it and you try to rub it off but it just splurges into a long streak of ickiness and you sit and stare at it all night because the glass is so clean and smooth and clear and then it's got a whoppin' great smudge on it.

Especially these glasses. They were so beautiful, like little ornaments themselves, all covered in flowers and vines and bunches of fruit and flocks of little birds. So many colours too, it made even the water (which tasted a bit funny) look pretty.

Vipsania however, had given up on my advice and was drinkin' away, her face rosy and shining again. I liked her better this way. She giggled alot. To her, everything I said was funny, which was weird seein' as before everything I said was stupid. At the time, I was glad she was happy again, but looking back, maybe she wasn't really. Maybe she thought it was all over, so she may as well enjoy it. Memento mori and all that. Maybe I was the only one who didn't understand what was going on.

"Ooh hoo hoo oh," she laughed. "Oh. Oh. That was so funny."

"I didn't say anything," I reminded her.

"I know!" She giggled again. "oh, I've had quite enough. What was that you said earlier, Leah? "Clear head?" Ha! Pass me the water, Leah. Oh! Pass water! Ooh hoo hoo heh heh!"

I tried not to look embarrassed as I handed over the pitcher. I wished Dru or Plutarch or even Mom was here.

"I think Leah might have a good point, madam. I'll have a glass after you're finished." Coro gestured to the pitcher. He ignored Vipsania's laughing at me.

I poured a glass of water for him. The pitcher, between the three of us, was almost empty. Coro looked at me, long and hard. He picked up the cup and without looking away from me, or even blinking drank it all in three large gulps. He set down the cup and did this thing where he pursed his thin lips together into a line until his mouth disappeared. He closed his eyes a second, before he opened them and beckoned over an Avox.

"The water is rank. Where did you get it, a puddle? Some idiot in the kitchens has not filtered it properly. Send it back. Now. Get rid of it. Bring back fresh." The Avox nodded and practically ran out the room. I frowned. He was in a hurry.

I leaned back in my chair. I didn't want anymore food, I couldn't make myself eat, but at the same time my stomach felt like it was being scraped out from the inside, like I was starving hungry. I was still so tired, too tired to really enjoy myself properly. I fidgeted, tapping the toes and heels of my shoes in a pattern, rearranging the skirt of my sage green dress, picking up my drinking straw and turning end over end in my fingers.

I stopped. There were some weird marks on it, making a little rim around the bottom. I cupped it in my hand. The water drops still on it felt almost crumbly, like little grains of sand. I turned it around. The whole straw was a funny colour, it looked more yellow now than white, or maybe that was just the candles, I wasn't sure.

Not sure of anything right now. I needed to clear my head. It was so hot in here, even though there was air con and fans in the corner, muggy and heavy hot. I got off from my chair and awkwardly squeezed past to reach one. It turned as it blew so there was a little lull until I'd feel the breeze again. It was nice and I closed my eyes and I was soon imagining myself back at home as a kid, sleepin' on the porch in summer, when it was just beginning to get cooler again.

When I came back to my seat, my straw had gone. Not that it mattered then, I had nothing more to drink.

Without the cold air, my head was beginning to boil and it spread all over me until I was a sloppy mess. I had to blink a few times to see everything properly, even then it was still unclear, like looking through a window.

Vipsania turned and beamed at me, but I just stared at her. She had a funny shadow under her nose. I pointed at my own, so she automatically reached for hers. She tapped it and then wiped it, leaving a long dark smear almost like a moustache, which thickened. It wasn't a shadow, I realised. Shadows don't glisten.

I picked up my napkin and dabbed her nose and it started spreading through the material until it was soaked. Blood. Vipsania was bleeding.

She frowned and got up from her chair.

"Do- excuse me," she murmured, her lips sliding over one another clumsily and as she spoke her mouth went thicker and darker. She turned and I thought she was about to say something to me but instead she gave a little sput of a sneeze and blood from mouth and nose pattered down onto my face.

Then she flopped on the floor, like a dress falling off a hanger.

I screamed and rolled off my own chair as she fell, the force of her fall pulling me down, the force of me falling pulling off half the tablecloth. A plate broke by my elbow, my knife and fork clattering down with it, flicking food everywhere, my purse knocked off the back of the chair and flump on the floor.

She began to cough, spraying little clouds of blood onto the floor. Then she began to choke and it came up in big red clotted clumps. I clung to her even as she wheezed and wasted away on my lap.

Think, think, she's choking, what does that mean, it means she can't breathe, why can't she breathe, something's blocking her throat. I slammed my hand into her back again and again. I never thought I'd get to hit a president. Whacking her made more and more blood come up. I was sure I was hurting her, doing some damage inside her chest but a Capitol doctor could fix that, but he couldn't fix her if she kept choking to death.

Everything around me was screaming but I couldn't tell what or who because I was screaming even as I tried to think. My fingers stumbled and skidded over her neck as I pulled at her dress, trying to loosen it in case that might make her breathe more. Come on, come on, fingers, work.

I don't know if I was just so desperate for any sign that she was getting better, but I was sure there was

It wasn't enough. OK, I told myself, this might still work ok. Think. Her throat is blocked, so she can't get air, she needs air to get into her chest to breathe, to live.

I stared at my hands, not at all the blood caked black under my nails or running down my fingers painting up all the lines in my skin but at what I was holding.

She needs air to get into her chest. But not through her mouth.

I lunged at her, but I lurched as something was holding me back. It reeled me in even as I struggled.

"Leah," Coro's voice was steady behind me, gently stroking my hair. "You need to calm down now. Calm. Down. Ssh, shh, shhhh."

Slowly, my breathing slowed down so that I could feel it. My head spun and I clung to my poisoner. I hadn't realised quite how loud I was, how frightened and panicked I was compared to everyone else. They were alarmed and shocked, but not terrified.

"Come on." He helped me shakily to my feet. "There's nothing we can do. Let's get you home. We both need to go home."

Home? That felt miles and miles away.

The stone of the street was cold in just my tights. I left one shoe inside the doorway of the mansion and another on the third step. Now that I was calmer the pain began to float up through the haze of panic that had stifled it. My stomach now felt like it was being stabbed and it ached and every step made it worse. Blood, on my hands, on my face, on my skirt, down my legs. So much of it, everywhere. We walked so slowly, each step made me shake. I slid down a wall.

"I can't move," another stab of pain as I slumped down. "It hurts so much. I can't move"

I propped my head against the wall. Make it stop. Aching, scraping, stabbing, stop it. The streets were almost empty. I could still see the mansion in the distance. We hadn't even made it out the City circle yet.

Coro leaned against the wall with a huff. His hand still held a napkin, he moved and left a smear of dark on the wall.

"Leah." I looked up at him but his eyes were closed, his mouth pressed together. It wasn't him.

I turned around; and Georg was looking right at me, almost as pale as me.

"Georg." I scrambled to my feet, slipping in the damp. We stared at each other and despite the pain we walked in a little circle, just looking up and down. He held up his hand and I held up mine, like a mirror.

"Come play with me," he said. "Come play with Nanny."

"I can't." I swallowed. "Nanny's half a world away. You're even further."

"You killed me." I blinked. He stammered and shuddered, blurring in and out."y-you k-kill-illed me."

"No! It wasn't me, I didn't do it, it was- it was, i-it was," I nearly collapsed at the thought that I couldn't remember the name.

Georg's finger pointed right at my heart. Then he turned and ran.

"Leah? Leah! Come back!"

But I was running and running even as the pain gouged and spread. Every time I turned the corner I'd catch him again but then he'd be gone up off ahead just faster than I could reach. I screamed at him again and again until his name was just a muffled choke.

I landed hard on my hands and knees and cough coughed a red picture.

"Leah."

I turned my head, slumping onto my elbow. Coro walked up to me, blood all down his face, over his chin, down his neck. He sighed and he fell with a defeated slump. I waited. He didn't move.

"Coro?" I crawled over and shook him, knocking more blood out of his mouth.

There were people- no, clowns,- no, people running over and shouting me but they all blurred so it was just noise I couldn't hear what they were saying

"Get away from me!" I yelled and the scraping started on my throat. "Go, go,- go now, no no go don't touch me! Leave him alone! LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

I flung myself on top of him as they came closer. They tried to pull me off but I fought and scratched and kicked and no no they wouldn't get us, they can't no leave him alone they had their arms all over me no no any minute now they'd smile and the thorns no the thorns were in me and there was so much blood-

The dark was smearing across my eyes, everything was fuzzing and fight it fight it don't let it win don't please it hurt so much please no get it away stop no please-

I screamed as the dark swallowed me whole.