Chapter 12
Gale's POV
We are met with more cheers, and my buzzer goes off: "Good luck to you Gale Hawthorne, the boy on fire!" The crowd are louder than I've ever heard them before, and up walks Charlie.
I sit back in my chair and focus solely on what Charlie's saying.
"Wow Charlotte, quite the beauty tonight!" He's not lying.
"Thank you Caesar, all the credit goes to Cinna and my prep team of course!" She extends her arm out to the audience, and to where Cinna and her prep team are standing and bowing.
"Now, you and Gale. Tell us all, how did you meet? How long have you been together? Do you have any good stories?"
"Well, Caesar, we met at the reaping for the 73rd Hunger Games. I spotted him across the square looking so handsome, and was taken by him, not knowing anything about him. Later that day he visited the butchers when I was manning the desk, and we talked and got to know each other. We've been together for about eight months I think, and I'll always remember that day. He came into the shop as usual, and took my hands, and led me out to the meadow by his house. It's on a small hill, and from there you can see most of twelve, Seam and Town. He had a small basket there; with berries and fruits and the finest bread in the district, it was so romantic Caesar."
I play along by just smirking down at myself, and Charlie's gaze fixed on me, before turning away and laughing.
"When you heard your name at the reaping, what were you feeling? Then when Gale's name was called?"
"When my name was read, it was kind of okay. I felt as if everything was okay, and I had a chance at winning the Games: but when Gale's name was called, every single scrap of hope was gone with the wind. There was, and still is, no hope that I'm going home; and now I'm just living for the moment because I don't have much time left with Gale." Charlie has just made the audience realise that two people who could have had a happy ending won't because of these cynical games; she's playing the game, but on her own terms.
"So, Charlotte, what about your family at home."
"I live with my auntie in her butchery, and I moved in there about two years ago after my father died in a mining accident. My mother, well she fell into depression after that, and just when she had beaten it, she caught the flu that swept our district in the winter. Many were ill, and quite a few died, and unfortunately my mother was one of them. I've been looking after the butchers since then with my Aunt Rooba and I try to feed the homeless and poor around the district, and helping my friends with food as well."
"Wow, a beautiful, charming, elegant, kind and giving young woman! What's not to like?" The buzzer sounds. "Thank you and good luck to the amazing. Charlotte Prior, the girl on fire!" The Capitol accent is ridiculous, elongating words in a sentence, really? Weird hissing noise on the 's'? High pitched chirpy voices? This is fashionable?
I'm in the games, and sat in a tree looking for potential prey. A body moulds it's way into the small clearing I'm hanging over, and my arrow is immediately shot into the heart of the intruder. The body rolls over, and I drop down at the foot of the tree to inspect my victim. Catnip. It's Catnip.
Her silver eyes begin to gloss over as the life drains out of her.
"Catnip, I'm sorry. I didn't think it was you, I'm sorry, I'm..." I feel my eyes gloss over, but with tears as I hold her ebony ringlets in my hand, stroking her face, wishing that I'd just looked for a second longer. The cannon booms, and I immediately pass out.
I wake whispering her name, sweat dripping off my forehead. I exit my room and traverse the living room, nodding my head at the servants.
"Please may you get me a glass of water?" The servant smiles, nods and exits. A silhouette sits on the windowsill, tea in hand.
"Couldn't sleep?" I begin.
"Something like that." A pause ensues. "These people celebrating these games, they don't know any different, they don't know that these tributes were people like them who are unwillingly reaped into these games, by the government that they love." She yawns.
"You should go to sleep; it's a big, big day tomorrow!" I try to imitate Effie, but I think I just sound like a dying bird.
"I'm enjoying my last night of freedom, away from an arena full of kids trying to kill me, as I turn savage and kill them. Enjoying the breeze against my neck, the warm tea in my throat, and experiencing a natural sunset. Watching the people idly celebrate the annual child murdering competition. Why are you up this late though?"
"Nightmares about what's to come." I am handed my glass by a bowing servant. "Thank you." The silence is awkward, when Charlie speaks:
"To be, or not to be? That is the question—
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And, by opposing, end them? To die, to sleep—
No more—and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to—'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished! To die, to sleep.
To sleep, perchance to dream."
She has moved from the window to the sofa I'm leaning on, kisses me and leaves; but the last quote of our conversation lingers with the scent of fresh meat on my lips.
Hey there! If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a review and a follow and favourite! Today I came up with a new idea but I kinda want to focus on this story and my exams and my acting right now but as soon as the summer comes I will be writing daily! But we are about to jump into the games and I am just now writing the end of the games and I'm really hoping that you're going to like what comes after and what happens to our hunters! Anyway I'm going to shut up now and let you get on with your day,
Abi :)
