Author's note: This is a long chapter. It had to be, so I hope you feel like sitting down and reading for a bit. Tell me what you think. We're almost to the Capitol...

Chapter 13

Our ride to District 1 was long and uneventful. Still, sleep eluded me. The more I tried to convince myself that rest was necessary for survival, especially in the unknown days ahead of us, the more it stayed at bay.

Gale tried to help calm my fears after we boarded, telling me again how much of a nice guy Boggs is. "He's not a bad guy Katniss. I don't think he's going to be a problem. Coin probably sent him to act as extra security, so nobody would hurt you." The thought that there were people who would like to see me dead in District 1 came crushing down on me. I killed both of their tributes after all. District 1 didn't go down to the Rebellion without a fight and I imagine the likes of me showing up in their district could only bring feelings of hatred and revenge. I hadn't anticipated that when I made my plan. I was only thinking of how close we would be to the doors of the Capitol. The thought of me being killed before we even get a chance to go look for Peeta slams around in my head. I tell Gale that I need to go to sleep and he graciously leaves me alone.

But, instead I found myself practicing knots on a piece of rope from my backpack, and fingering my arrows. Beetee had told me to "Talk to you bow. It needs you, just as much as you need it." I found that to be an extraordinarily strange thing to say, especially since I hardly talk to the people around me. Maybe it'll be easier to talk to something that won't have an opinion about me, but I can't bring myself to do it yet. At least, not in front of the others. So instead I just run my fingers along it's smooth surface, wondering how many things we will come across together.

I also used the time to watch Boggs, who slept sitting up in a chair half the trip. I wonder how old he is? He looks close enough in age to my mother, maybe just a bit younger. It's hard to tell because the people from District 12 seem to age prematurely, while those at District 13 have managed to retain some youthfulness. The thought makes me dislike him even more.

I would have tried to find Haymitch, but he instantly distanced himself from me once we left District 13. I suppose he doesn't want to talk about the very thing that's keeping me awake. How are we going to get past Boggs once we finish our camera session? I know that Plutarch also wanted to interview Finnick. Thankfully he agreed to go on camera before me. His interview shouldn't take long, he's never had a hard time finding the right words to say. I ,on the other hand, could spell out disaster for our group. If I can't wrap up the interview in a few hours, then that delays our rescue of the others. Haymitch already told me that we only had three days to finish the camera shots and somehow get in and out of the Capitol. "Heavensbee has agreed to give you three days kid. The Rebellion is planning on making it's final push soon. You've got to get out of the Capitol before then, because you already know what Coin's plans are. Beetee has given us a satellite code to crack into the Capitol airwaves. We're going to play the interview there first, as a signal to you if anything changes. If you see yourself on the big screens in the Capitol, that means you've got to run sweetheart." The thought of seeing myself plastered all over the screens in the Capitol again gives my stomach a twist. At least this time will be the last for camera appearances. I hope.

When the time came to exit the hovercraft I looked awful. A mirror wasn't even necessary to prove that to myself. I just had to witness the faces of my prep team and Effie as they saw me for the first time since the Training Center. Plutarch was smart enough to get them out of the Capitol before the Quell Games began. Venia was the first to hug me, with big tears falling out of her eyes. "Katniss, you look absolutely horrible!" Flavius and Octavia were next, stroking my hair and poking at the dark circles under my eyes. "What are we going to do with this hair? And these dark circles? We only have hours to get you looking presentable. And, this time, we don't have..." Venia gasps and Octavia bursts into tears. Flavius is left hanging his head at the words, "Cinna." The mention of his name makes my head feel faint. I suddenly find myself enveloped in their arms, Flavius exclaiming, "She needs some air! Quick, breathe this!" A bottle of some type of noxious, pungent odor brings me back to my senses. Effie is ordering people to make space as my prep team, my little pets, are all gathered around me, stroking my face and gingerly handling me as if I'm made of glass.

They usher me into a tiny little apartment, with nothing in it except for a bed and a small bathroom that is shared with the next room. Gale, Haymitch, Finnick, Boggs... they're somewhere in similar apartments. I'm given orders by Effie to get some sleep. "You only have a few hours before your prep team will need you. Get some rest, we have a big, big, big day today!" Only Effie can manage to show excitement at the least exciting of tasks. I throw myself down on the bed, still fully clothed. I'm thankful for the solitude. Sleep comes to me quickly. Apart from my normal nightmares, I do feel rested when my prep teams arrives. Venia is dressed in some type of animal print leotard while Octavia is decked out in a tight fitting purple dress that perfectly matches Flavius' shade of lipstick. What odd little creatures they are, yet my affections continue to grow for them. I can't help but pity what their lives might be like if they were forced to live somewhere like District 12.

Once again, I allow myself to be putty in their hands, letting them lead me back to a room all prepared to remake me into what the people want to see. A girl who has no flaws. A girl who stood up to the forces of tyranny and led the people to Rebellion. A girl so strong that nothing can stand in her way of freedom. If only they knew what I really am. A girl who hasn't really put anyone first except for herself. A girl who ignited a fire in Panem that cost thousands their lives. A girl who once held out berries in her hand, not knowing that it would prove disastrous for all those around her. Those berries, what was I thinking when I held out those berries?

I have no time to mull that over though, because my prep team has finished plucking, waxing, rubbing, and pulling at my body. All that is left is for me to get dressed. I have no idea what I'm going to wear, other than the locket that I wouldn't let them remove from around my neck. Venia hands me a sketch book and I recognize it instantly. I flip through the pages but all I see is the painful memory of helplessly watching Cinna as he was beaten bloody by the peacekeepers. They want me to pick something out, but I can't do it. "There's too many memories. I can't pick anything. I don't care what you put me in, you choose." And I throw the book back to them and slump to the ground, head in my hands. "Katniss. We know it's hard for you. But, Cinna... he wouldn't want us to be this way." Flavius is talking to me, placing the sketch book back in my hands. "I think you should look at some of the last pages. He was most proud of those. I think he knew just how things would be, and he didn't leave you unprepared." Why didn't they tell me that when they first handed me the book?

I flip instantly to the last few pages and draw a sharp breath in. The sketches are amazing. The first one is of a military outfit, the same one that Beetee had given me, except without Beetee's crazy alterations. I let out a small laugh thinking how Cinna would react if he knew what Beetee had done to his creation. The second one is a gray suit, that looks like it covers every inch of me from head to toe. The colors blend together, in alternating shades of gray, brown and white. It almost looks like the side of a mountain. I say this again, out loud, and watch as my prep team smiles and nods their heads back to me. "It's a suit to get me in through the tunnel, isn't it? One that blends me in with the rocks?" Amazing. He planned on me going back in to rescue Peeta. Cinna knew what I would have wanted to do if Peeta didn't make it out with me.

Now I find myself flipping through the pages frantically, searching through all the sketches, trying to figure out just where Cinna thought my path in life would go. The drawings pick up with glittering ballroom dresses and then change to simple flowing dresses in pale, muted colors. I see one dress, it's the color of green clover with sleeves that extend past my elbows and is long enough to go past my knees. It's my favorite so far, and I point it out to Flavius who only says, "Excellent choice." Then he's running out the door to fetch it.

I keep looking through the pages. There are casual outfits for each season of the year, even a few hunting outfits interspersed here and there. But it's the last page that leaves my mouth gaping wide open. A simple white sleeveless dress that gracefully sweeps the floor, with a pale green ribbon sash around my waist. A strand of pearls around my neck. And a handsome looking black suit and tie in coordinating colors to match the dress. Cinna's intentions concerning the dress and use thereof are obvious. Although it's much different than all of the large, puffy silken white gowns I tried on months ago, it can only be for one occasion. A wedding. What isn't so obvious, however, is who the suit was designed for. I shut the book quietly and close my eyes to think for a moment. Why did Cinna feel the need to design a wedding dress for me? It's perfect really. Much more my style than any of the others that were delivered to my door. But, did he really think I would get married after all of this? And if I did, that I would make a big public appearance doing so? I wish he were here so that I could ask him.

After I'm dressed and my finishing touches are done, I twirl around once just for my prep team. They let out, "Ooohs" and "Aaaahs" which I recognize well enough by now to know that they are pleased with me. I steal a quick glance at myself in the mirror and am amazed at how much I still look the same as I did when I first left for the Hunger Games. All of the brutality and death that has encompassed my life for the past months is hardly evident on the seemingly flawless face reflected back at me. For all of the shame and guilt that has eaten away at my insides, my shell of a body still seems untouched. I think of all the scars that have been seemingly erased from my skin, and I yearn for each and every one of them. I long for the girl staring back at me to tell me who I really am.

Just then, Effie Trinket comes bursting through the door, announcing that it's time for me to come on the set. She embraces me lightly, and then says, "I'm so glad you are finally looking forward to camera crews. It's such a shame Peeta couldn't be here with you today. Perhaps another time?" Did she just say it's a shame that Peeta wasn't here? Does she have any idea how much danger his life is in right now? I just nod my head in agreement though. To make Effie unhappy now would only add to time wasted on trying to get through this interview and then out of here. "I wish he were here too Effie." For once, a statement that rings true to the very core of my being.

Heavensbee greets us as we enter a small room full of cameras. In front of them is a small black stage with two oversized white leather chairs. Finnick is still in one of them, chatting easily with a man whose dark gren hair is perfectly manicured and is sporting a suit the most brilliant color of orange I've ever seen. And, for a moment, I'm speechless. "I told you I had a blockbuster surprise for you! Aren't you glad to see your old friend, Ceasar Flickerman again? You've done so well being interviewed by him in the past, that I couldn't pass on the opportunity to get him here now. You and he make for good televison!" Every image that I have of myself with Ceasar Flickerman is with Peeta by my side. I'm not sure I can do this now. I don't have a clue what I'm going to talk about, not without Peeta to help me. I bring a nail to my mouth, but Octavia slaps it away and shakes her finger at me.

Next thing I know, Finnick is passing by me with a serious look back on his face. "Make it count Katniss. I just told every secret I know of every dignitary or government worker in Panem. Those secrets held my life. Tell the truth, no matter how ugly it might be. This could be your last chance." I swallow whatever tiny amount of spit that's left in my mouth. My lips and throat both feel parched, although I've already drank two glasses of water and my lips are still full of shimmery gloss. Ceasar is motioning for me to come up on the stage and sit in the big chair next to him. I think of Finnick's words "Tell the truth Katniss, no matter how ugly it is" and I can't help but think of just how atrocious my interview with Ceasar might be.

"How are you Katniss? Are you ready to start?" I want to say that I'm absolutely not ready, not for any of this. I've never been ready. I give a short nod of my head, and try to smooth out my dress. My hands are clammy feeling but I say, "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Let's begin, shall we?" Ceasar has put a dazzling smile on his face, and I try to follow suit by giving my own half-hearted smile. Instead it comes out looking like a grimace. I instinctively reach for Peeta's hand to guide me, but it's not there. I am alone on this stage.

Haymitch cuts in and yells, "Everyone out! Just the cameramen and Ceasar with the girl." I'm suddenly very thankful for Haymitch again. He knows that I'll do terrible if there are too many people in the room. I clear my throat and try to work up my courage towards small talk with Ceasar. It's true, I do have a history with this man. Too bad that it's all connected with me walking a fine line between death and survival. "Tell the truth, make it count" is ringing through my ears. I need to try my best for Peeta. It's all I can do to help him now.

The lights come on, the cameramen are quiet, and Ceasar begins, "I'm here with Katniss Everdeen, one of our favorite Victor's from District 12. From Girl on Fire to Mockingjay. How are you doing Katniss?"

Can't we start with an easier question? How am I doing? If I tell the truth then I need to say awful. My life has been a never ending path of nightmares since Prim's name was drawn. "I've been better." My tone is flat. My eyes dart to Ceasar's, hoping he knows just how much I need for him to rescue me right now.

"Let's start with you and Peeta in the arena, on the beach. He showed you a locket, one that held pictures of your family in it. Tell us why he did that." I gulp. This is not a question I want to answer, but one that I'm sure will have the Capitol citizens glued to their television sets. Should I answer honestly or give them what they want to hear? I think of Heavensbee and how much he was hoping for good television. I think I'll give it to him, just not the way he had planned.

"Do you want the truth, Ceasar? Because this could be a long answer." My voice is low and all I'm aware of at the moment is the smell of Ceasar's strong, flowery scented cologne.

"I think that would be a good place to start," says Ceasar. Here we go, I think. Once I start, there will be no undoing of what I have to say.

"Well, in order to answer that, I need to start at the very beginning. Before Peeta and I even arrived in the Capitol. Before the reaping ever took place." I rub my lips together, feeling the sticky gloss smear across them, before I continue. "When I was eleven, my father died in a mine explosion. It crushed my mother's will to live, to care for us anymore." I've not spoken of this dark time to anyone other than Gale. There is a lump of something stuck in my chest, and I feel my breathing become more shallow.

"Our money had run out, and we were slowly starving to death. I tried to trade some of our things for food, but nobody wanted them. It was freezing outside, rain was coming down in sheets, and I was in such despair that my will to live was also dying." That feeling still haunts me and the fact is that it's trying to break my body even at this very moment. "I found myself wandering in the alley, behind the bakery in town. I had hopes of finding something small to eat in the garbage of the merchants. The baker's wife,"

Ceasar interrupts and asks, "Peeta's mother?" I nod my head in agreement.

"She didn't want me digging in the trash and yelled for me to get out of there. And, that's when I first saw him. Peeta. Hiding behind his mother." The young boy with blond hair. I let myself smile, remembering the way he looked. "The smell of bread was so intoxicating that I just couldn't make myself push on past it. Instead, I found myself weak and weary. I was ready to give up on life, to let death swallow me up. But then, something happened that forever changed me." Ceasar is watching me, waiting for me to continue. "Peeta purposefully burnt two loaves of bread, of which he received a beating from his mother for. She told him to go throw it out to the pigs. But, instead he threw it to me." My voice is crackling now, and I take a big breath so that I can continue. "It was filled with raisins and nuts," I softly laugh. I'm not sure why that matters to anyone, other than me. "I remember how the heat from that bread burned into my skin when I tucked it under my jacket. But, I kept it there, reveling in the warmth. Clinging to life."

"Did you talk to Peeta after that incident with the bread?" Ceasar asks.

"No, not until we were on the train to the Capitol. But I wanted to. I was forever grateful for his act of kindness. I caught his eye across the playground at school the next day, but he looked away. I was too shy to go over to him. But, from that day forward, he gave me the will to find myself again. His kindness pointed me to the first dandelion of spring and reminded me that, if I tried hard enough, I could feed my family." Ceasar is looking at me puzzled now, so I quickly answer, "You can eat dandelions! He brought to mind the fact that I could feed our family if I dared to venture into the woods."

"So, that is what started you hunting?" I see him piecing this all together and realize that I need to pick up the pace with this story, to show him where I'm going with it.

"Yes. And, I met my best friend Gale in the woods. We've been hunting together for years now. He's not my cousin, the Capitol made that part up." I know that I need to continue with this story of Gale, but I still have pieces to fill in for people.

I go on to explain to Ceasar of Haymitch's plan for Peeta and I to appear as a team. Somewhere along the lines, Peeta revealed to Haymitch his feelings for me. Feelings that I never knew about, not until he professed them in front of the crowd in the Capitol. "I wasn't sure if he was telling the truth because I thought it was all a part of our plan to survive the arena." I explain why I dropped the tracker jacker nest in the arena, I thought I had been betrayed. But, even then, I still had all these conflicting emotions surrounding Peeta, I was relieved to not see Peeta's face in the sky at the end of the day. When they announced we could both be victor's, that is when I knew he had never been a danger to me. Our time in the cave together solidified that, but also made me start to question just what my feelings for him were. "I knew that Haymitch wanted us to play the "Star-crossed lovers from District 12" but, somewhere in the midst of that, real feelings for Peeta surfaced." Our emotional ending in the arena. I tell of how President Snow threatened me and my family because of the berries. Our kissing on stage. Some of it was real to me, other parts were not. I did not realize that Peeta's feelings were genuine for me until the train ride home.

"What happened then, when you returned to District 12?" Ceasar is urging me along.

I know I can't stop now and I don't think I could, even if I wanted to. Telling this whole story of deception is somehow freeing my mind from the dark clutches of shame and grief that have weighed upon it. The story of Gale and I comes pouring out. I tell of our friendship, of our kiss, and how I couldn't sort my feelings out between him and Peeta. The story of President Snow visiting me, the brutality Peeta and I witnessed on the Victor's tour, and that the only way to keep our families safe was by continuing our love story. One that had to be taken to a new level. Then, I go on about the new peacekeeping force arriving, and how I was contemplating running away. Still, the words keep spewing forth, like they've been waiting for this moment forever. The Quarter Quell games, how I felt knowing that Peeta and I were to be going back into the arena together. How I swore to myelf that I would do everything I could to keep him alive. What it felt like to believe that I had seen my family and Gale for the last time. How I had decided to live my last moments with Peeta, allowing my feelings for him to be real. What my final moments in the arena felt like for me. How I knew nothing about the Rebel forces planning to rescue us, I was just hoping to have done enough to spare Peeta's life.

When I pause, to show that I'm done talking about all the lies, deception and death of the past year and a half, Ceasar is momentarily speechless.

"When Peeta said that you had been secretly wed, that wasn't real? The baby?" I nod my head in shame. None of that was real. But, something inside me is telling me to speak about it.

"I've always been too afraid to marry someday, for the fear that children would be brought into the world. I couldn't bear the thought of them having to go through the reaping, to be sentenced to the arena. To stand by and watch them battle others to the death, or be killed themselves. I think Peeta wanted it to be real, the thought of us having a child together." I've said this much, I may as well keep going. "Maybe a small part of me did as well."

"You have to understand that the games... they never leave you. The faces of the children you've killed, those you've watched die... there isn't a single night that goes by, without those faces making their way into my dreams. Even when you leave the arena as a winner, you leave behind a part of yourself that can never totally be healed. I know this now, not only from my life but from seeing it in the other Victors. The Capitol wouldn't allow us to leave the arena unbroken."

"But, the Capitol's reign is almost over," Ceasar says this quietly, as if he's afraid of who might hear him. "What about then? If there are no games?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure I can trust anyone enough to believe that." It's brutally honest and painfully true. My fingers go the pearl that sits inside the locket at my neck, wondering if there will be anything good left in me to offer to anyone, especially a child.

Ceasar doesn't waste an opportunity. "The locket around your neck. Does that mean something special to you?"

"My mother and sister gave it to me, as good luck for this interview." I half laugh to myself, thinking how silly it must sound. "Inside is the pearl that Peeta gave to me during the Quell games, at the beach."

"Yes, that was quite a touching moment between you two. I believe that said you needed him, although he was trying to tell you differently, to point you down a different path. Do you still feel that way?"

My heart is pounding in my chest and I ponder this in my brain. The boy with the bread who saved me all those years ago from starving. The same boy who has saved me from the demons that haunt me at night. The boy whose touch made my body hunger for more. The answer is easy. "Yes. I need him more than anything else." My voice comes out all breathy, like I've been starved for oxygen. It makes my face blush but I can't take those words back now. The emotions I've been holding back have unraveled themselves on camera. I've just announced my love for Peeta in front of the whole nation of Panem.