AN: Sorry this was sort of short ... and sorry that I put up 13 again instead of 14! Thanks to Dike & ellenka who pointed it out. Never said I was good at this stuff!
"You saw that, right?" Gale murmurs under his breath.
"Couldn't forget it if I tried," I reply quietly.
By the silence that fills the rest of the cafeteria (which, like all things in 12, is a bit of a stretch), it's easy to tell that everyone else is still shocked.
"You think they realize?" I suddenly saw, looking up to Gale.
"Realize what?" he replies absently, eyes locked on the screen, scanning back and forth across the Panem logo.
"The ice pond," I breathe, trying to see what he sees. "How the tributes from 12 died, but the others didn't."
"The camera was on them for enough time to realize," Gale notes. "But, they cut out pretty quick. I don't think they meant for us to see that."
I tilt my head. "You don't think they meant for us to see that?"
Gale sits up a little and looks around the cafeteria, before he bends in closer. "That wasn't a ploy to show District 12 how much more powerful the Capitol is. That was the Gamemakers getting after the 12 tributes for whatever reason. They did something wrong. And by they, I mean our district."
I curl up my cheeks into a half smile. "Yea, sure," I say with a small chuckle as I stand up and begin to make my way out of lunch. "See you when we're out, Hawthorne."
He rolls his eyes and matches my chuckle. "See you, Everdeen."
We each take a different direction down the hallways, venturing down into what seems the inner chambers of the earth, closer and closer to the treacherous mines.
Which is exactly what Gale claims to be terrified of. It's a valid claim, being sentenced to spending most of your waking hours, for the rest of your life, in the dark, vile mines. And certainly even more so, when the last sight of both of our fathers was the black walls of the same mine.
As for me, I'll have another two years in school before I'm out in the world. Freedom isn't the right term, since I'll still be bound by the fences of District 12. It'll be even harder to hunt when I'm an adult and no longer have the excuse of being childish and not knowing any better.
Harder even may be having to watch Prim go through the reapings. Gale always tells me there's nothing I could do, and really, there is nothing I could do, but how can I wish for my little bird's safety when either way, mine is guaranteed?
But, Prim will grow up. Rory will grow up, so will Vick, and one day even little Posy. We'll all be grown up, no longer lost in childish daydreams with the idea of 'someday', or 'sometime'. In fact, it's been so very long since I've known a time like that, I wish all the more that none of the others ever have to grow up.
Which is pitifully unfortunate, because we will. Gale will live his lives in the mines, as will Rory and Vick. Both of our families are too poor to afford schooling for any other career, which is a shame, because it means no Seam kid will ever escape the Seam. Just another Capitol scheme.
And Posy, Prim, and I? Prim and Posy will lead a life like Hazelle's (I hesitate to add my mother to that list, because what kind of life does she lead?), with kids and work and pain and work. A life that I can't ever see myself leading, not only because I've sworn over and over that I will never have kids, never subject them to the Games every year, but because I hesitate to even marry (despite the rumors of 12 about Gale and I) when the mouth of the mine expects all the men from the Seam to be up and ready every morning.
Thinking of this, there is one way that I could possibly free everyone I love from this. Thinking of this, there is one way, the only way, that I could ever get them away from here.
And all I have to do, all I really have to do, is run off with Gale. Running off itself wouldn't be so hard. We wouldn't be able to carry much, or else it would look suspicious. But, getting out to the valley, we've done it twice before. We'd only have to find our way beyond the valley, and learn the area so we could find resources. Once we got set up, the next trick would be bringing back everyone else.
Supporting everyone else might be the hardest part of all. We're all nearly starving here anyways, and while it is going to be a little tough as far as food goes when we first get out there, hunting will be easier when we're not hiding from anyone. That is, if there's enough game out there to support us in the first place.
It would take Gale and I awhile to get everything ready. We'll be testing every aspect of life in the wild out, there's even a chance that we might never make it back. That it's just too hard out there, for even us to sustain ourselves, for even us, who have almost lived our whole lives out here.
If I don't go? We're all stuck here, forever. The boys in the mines, down in those horrible, horrible mines, and the girls doing whatever they can to support themselves and the family they may choose to have. It's hell one way, and hell with a chance the other.
"Hell with a choice," I murmur to myself as I slip out of school. I'm desperate to get outside and feel the air, and that's only from being trapped in school. What must it be like to climb out of the mines every day, far past sundown, only to know you're expected back the next day?
"Hell with a choice?"
I turn around at the sound of Gale's voice. "Again with the sneaking?" I say, raising my eyebrows and smirking.
"Seems like a helpful thing to me," he shrugs, hands buried in his pockets. "What exactly is 'hell with a choice'? Dear god, Catnip, tell me this isn't about a boy."
I opened my mouth and giggled. "No! Stop it, Gale," I reply, punching his arm. "No, god, no!"
"Pretty irritated about it," he shrugs again. "You tell me."
"No!" I shriek again.
"So, tell me what it's about," Gale continues.
I move into a brisk walk. "Later. I need to think about it."
"And I can't be included in the process?"
I stopped just long enough to shoot him a sharp glare before walking off again. "What does that mean?"
Gale drops his gaze and resurfaces much quieter, much softer. "I don't know. You haven't gotten back to me yet. I assumed it was about that."
"Not everything is about you," I call over my shoulder as I quicken my pace.
"Sure seems like my mind works like that about you," is the last thing I hear.