Hello!
Enjoy! And PLEASE review/follow/favorite ;) Thanks!
Disclaimer: HG=Not mine
By the end of our conversation, I promise Gale that if it comes down to it, I will try to convince his family to leave him for the wild. It's not going to happen, but I decide to at least give him the comfort of knowing that I will try. None of that matters, though, because I will make sure he makes it to the woods on time. I don't think I could live with myself if I left him.
As Peeta and I walk to my house from school, my thoughts drift Mrs. Aspen's announcement earlier today. She said that there will be a mandatory viewing tonight on the television. I can't help but wonder what new horrors the Capitol has to unleash upon us. Peeta is saying something to me, but I don't hear him because I am imagining all of the worst outcomes of this announcement: less food, more Peacekeepers, more Hunger Games…
"Katniss?" Peeta startles me back into the present, away from my increasingly terrifying thoughts.
"Hmm?" I ask.
"Are you okay? I asked you what you think the viewing is about tonight," he explains.
"Oh, sorry. Actually, that's what I was thinking about just now. I don't know, but I just hope it's not about any of the things that I've been imagining," I say. Peeta just looks at me concernedly, but doesn't say anything more on the topic.
We decide to watch the viewing together at my house. I lay a blanket on the floor, and Peeta, Prim, my mother, and I sit down to watch the announcement about how the Capitol is going to ruin our lives next.
Almost as soon as we are all settled in, a purple-haired woman with a squeaky voice and a bald man with green and gold tattoos all over his bald scalp begin discussing the exciting news that the president will be announcing the terms of the third Quarter Quell, the 75th Hunger Games.
Suddenly, it all makes sense: the increase in security, the large number of Peacekeepers in all the districts, the punishments, the Capitol's attempts to control the districts completely. They need us subdued, starving, exhausted, and weak so that we can't fight back. Whatever the terms of this Quell are, they can't be good.
I think I'm going to be sick.
"Ugh. I can never get over the fact that the Capitol actually anticipates the Games. It's disgusting," Peeta comments.
"I just hope none of us are chosen," says Prim with a shaky voice. My heart aches. I wish more than anything that my little sister could grow up without the constant threat of having to fight to the death in a Hunger Games arena hanging over her.
I swallow the illness that is threatening to overtake me and put on a reassuring smile for my little sister. "Don't worry, Little Duck, they won't pick you. You'll only have your name in twice." I stroke her hair and hold her close, trying to hide the fear that I have for all of us. I think Peeta notices how difficult this is for me. He wraps his own arm around me and holds me as I hold Prim. My mother smiles at me and reaches over to rub Prim's back comfortingly.
I wish we could all stay like this forever, here in each other's arms, but our moment of peace is cut short as the screen focuses on President Snow. He rambles on about the history of Panem and reason for the Games. Several minutes later, he finally gets to the part we don't know.
"I know you have all been eagerly awaiting news about the third Quarter Quell in celebration of our 75th year of the Hunger Games," the president says.
More like dreading it with every fiber of our beings, I think to myself. The president continues by reminding us of past Quells.
I watch as a small boy dressed in white approaches the president with a box. He opens the box to reveal several envelopes—whoever planned all these envelopes prepared for centuries of Hunger Games. The president grabs the first envelope which is marked with the number 75, and he opens it ceremoniously.
"In honor of this 75th year of the Hunger Games, each district will offer up two tributes from the ages of eight years of age and older to remind the rebels that from the youngest to the oldest, no one can overcome the power of the Capitol," the president says with a sickening smile as the Capitol citizens whoop and yell with delight.
This time, I can't hold it down. I pull myself up to my feet as fast as I can and run to the nearest trash can so I can throw up.
This is an all-time low even for the Capitol. Children, little eight-year-olds, and elderly men and women forced to kill each other. How can this be acceptable? How is any of it acceptable? It's not. And I have had enough of it. I am really considering our escape plan right about now. We told the majority of our family members about it, but even they didn't seem to keen to leave any time soon. Even so, I can't imagine Prim or my mother in the wild.
"Are you okay?" Peeta whispers as he rushes over to my aid.
"Yeah," I say as I wipe my sleeve across my face, annoyed that I just expelled all the contents of my stomach into the trash. Food is valuable and it's growing more and more difficult to obtain, so I need every bit I can get, but once again, my stomach is empty for yet another long night of hunger pains.
I walk to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water as Peeta continues worriedly, "Katniss, are you sure? Maybe you should get some sleep."
"No, Peeta, I don't think I'll be sleeping any time soon," I say, realizing that nightmares of slaughtered eight-year-olds and grandparent will most likely frequent my nighttime hours for the next several months.
"Yeah, same here. I can't believe this. I really just can't believe any of it. Maybe we are just dreaming. Maybe we'll wake up tomorrow and discover none of this is real," he says.
"I wish... Peeta, we have to get away from here. I can't do this anymore. I can't watch Prim suffer. And now I have my mother to worry about as well. Almost anyone could be chosen as a tribute. I can't keep watching the Capitol take everything from us," I say pleadingly.
"Katniss, there's nothing we can do. It's just like any other year. Just look at it this way: the bigger the Reaping pool, the less chance there is that anyone in our families will be chosen," he explains. His point is valid, but I still can't escape the images of tiny people and old people being stabbed to death or skewered by spears or eaten by mutts. It's still horrible no matter how you look at it.
I walk back to the television to find Prim curled up in my mother's lap fast asleep, complete with tear-stained cheeks. Once again, my heart breaks for her, my Little Duck.
The worst part of this whole thing is the fact that the Quell has been announced much earlier than most Games due to its special nature and the overwhelming enthusiasm for it found amongst the Capitol citizens. Now, the nightmares will keep us up all night two months earlier than usual. Now, I realize that I need to convince the people I love to leave this place once and for all.
Once the Reaping is over and the Games begin, security should return to normal. The fence will stop giving off electricity, Peacekeepers will return to the posts they held before they were forced to oppress Twelve, and the "punishments" should decrease. As long as none of us are selected as tributes, we might have a chance to get out of District 12 successfully. Maybe the excitement of the Games will even help us leave unnoticed.
I decide to spend the next couple of months preparing for departure and convincing everyone to follow me into the woods, into freedom, into the wild.
