Late update, I know, I'm sorry.
Some of you pointed out that the chapter numbers were getting confusing because of the A/N. I can't delete it because some of you reviewed it and if I delete it they won't be able to review the next chapter. And I don't want that.
So I've starting naming the chapters as a compromise. I didn't do that before, because as you can see, I'm terrible at coming up with chapter names. So I invite you all to suggest some chapter names that you like. :)
Read, enjoy, review!
"Stupid Camelon," I mutter as I frantically try and brush the knots out of my hair.
I woke up five minutes ago to a plate of nice, hot steaming rolls and a card that told me I had exactly ten minutes left to make myself look presentable and rush to a meeting. I test my breath—it doesn't smell too bad. I think I'll skip brushing it. I didn't brush my teeth in the arena anyways. I change quickly and rush over to Darin's room.
"Darin!" I holler, looking left and right for him. A small groan escapes from under the blankets. He's still asleep. I check the plate of rolls next to his bed. He has the exact same card as me, with mean he has to go to the meeting too. Whatever the meeting is.
I try poking him and saying, "Come on, Darin, there's a meeting we need to go to," but he doesn't budge. So I resort to leaning in close to his ear and bellowing, "WAKE UP, DARIN, THERE'S A FIRE!"
Darin sits up immediately, his eyes wide with alert. "WHAT? WHERE? Oh, it's just you," he says, noticing me for the first time.
"What do you mean, it's just me?" I demand. "Now come on, there's a meeting we need to go to. Now."
He swears and flings away his blankets. He doesn't even bother to rush to the bathroom—he changes right in front of me. Being extremely sensitive to nakedness, I cover my eyes immediately. I can't believe how open people can be.
"What?" Darin asks. "Don't you want to see my abs?" I swear he's grinning like mad over there.
"Not the time," I mumble.
After he finishes changing, we immediately rush to Room A07, where the card said we should go. And once again, we are the only ones who are late. Camelon frowns, along with his other three order-enforcers in the room. I spot Nyx in the trio.
"You two are late," he says, as if it isn't obvious enough.
"Yeah, well, maybe you should have told us about the meeting yesterday instead of placing a plate of rolls next to me hoping I'll rise early and get the message," I snap.
Darin nudges me, hard, in the ribs. "I'm sorry, Sir. It won't happen again," Darin promises as I give him a 'what the hell was that for?' look.
Camelon gestures to the two vacant seats and we collapse in them, tired from running. I glance at Darin. His hair is sticking out in all directions, and there's still a speck of dried drool on his face. I'm grateful that I look much more presentable than he does.
"I'm terribly sorry to inform you about the meeting in such a short notice." Camelon stares directly at me to make sure I know he's referring to me. "I was going to schedule this meeting in the afternoon, but it turns out I have something else to attend to. Therefore, I had to move the meeting earlier." He pushes a plate of peanut butter sandwiches to me and Darin. "Please, eat."
Darin mouths the words 'peanut butter!' to me and takes a sandwich so excitedly I can't help but smile. The other three order-enforcers glower at this action, though. Maybe you're not supposed to eat before Camelon does, or it's an act of disrespect or whatnot. Either way, I do not have the heart to tell Darin and separate him from his peanut butter.
"So today's meeting is about the ideas I asked you to come up with yesterday," Camelon announces.
I curse silently. I completely forgot about my job that Camelon assigned to me at the last meeting—to think up a fresh new idea to put in the Games. I knew I should have written it all down. Drat—forgot to bring a pen and paper today again. Note to self: stick pen and paper in pockets at all times.
"Let's start with you, Agamemnon." Camelon addresses the guy closest to him. "What idea did you think of?"
Agamemnon clears his throat and stands up. "I propose the use of guns in the arena, sir."
"What do the rest of you think?" Camelon nods to the rest of us.
"No." I cross my arms and lean back in my chair. "There's a reason why guns weren't included in the original Games. The use of guns would make the tributes die too quickly and too easily. There's no point in the Hunger Games if guns are used. We might as well just put on a public execution." What I don't say is that I want to keep as many people alive as possible, and having guns would complicate that.
"I agree with Lily," Darin says. "The Games aren't only about killing each other. There are survival skills, too."
"True," agrees Camelon. "So this idea is not doable. But thank you for your suggestion, Agamemnon."
Agamemnon sits down, defeated. He shoots me a dirty look. I smile back warmly. Not gonna let people say I have no manners.
"So what do you think, Lily? Any ideas?" Camelon turns to me.
None, I want to say, but I can't. So instead, I bluff.
"The purpose of The Hunger Games is to provide fear among the Districts," I stand up and begin. I look to Darin for help, but he seems convinced that I actually have an idea. Curse my eloquence. "But at the same time, it also provides hope among the people, because without hope, we do not fight," I blab on as I rack my brains for an idea I can propose. My mind grasps the least harmful thing I can think of, and I speak it out.
"Therefore, I propose adding more Mirage Leaves in the arena. They are leaves that induce hallucinations."
I remember when Darin, Ferrous, Joannie and I were in the arena, Darin snacked on some leaves that Ferrous called Mirage Leaves. That left Darin hallucinating for a few short minutes before Joannie slapped him awake. So the leaves can't be that dangerous. Not too much harm should be done.
"Then why not just use Tracker Jackers? They provide even stronger hallucinations. You, of all people, should know," Agamemnon sulks.
I'm not sure if he's referring to my mother, who got stung by Tracker Jackers in her first Games, or my father, who got hijacked in the Capitol. Or maybe he's referring to that time I got stung by Tracker Jackers myself in the arena. I shudder at the memory. Either way, I know a little too well about the effects of Tracker Jackers. This is why I cannot allow anyone to be stung by them.
"Yes, I do know. That is why I can tell you that Tracker Jacker venom only targets the part of fear in our brains. Mirage Leaves, on the other hand, can create hallucinations from all kinds of emotion." I'm not entirely sure that piece of information is true, but it sounded pretty persuasive. Everyone is considering my words carefully.
"Hope…Mirages…Hallucinations…" Camelon mutters. I wonder what evil thoughts are going through his mind.
"I still think the idea is a little far-fetched," Agamemnon broods.
"I think what Lily means is to use the Mirage Leaves to create some sort of false hope. Alter the leaves so when a person eats it, they see things that give them hope, but it is only a hallucination. Like a man in a desert—mirages make him think that he sees a pool of water, and so he runs faster and faster, only to have the water drift further away from him. This idea is actually quite promising. Modify the genetics of the leaves so they target the part of the brain that produces hope. Is that what you mean, Lily?" Camelon asks.
No. This is not what Lily means. Camelon had somehow taken my innocent idea and turned it into a monstrous one. "But Camelon—I mean Sir, I didn't mean it that way," I pipe up.
"Don't be so modest, Lily. Yes, mirages. That's a nice thought…" Camelon's brow furrows in thought.
I give a helpless look to Darin, who looks just as helpless as me. He opens his mouth to object, but he gets cut off by another guy.
Some guy—the only guy left in the room whom I do not know his name—raises his hand in the air. "We could have an entire section full of mirages. We can extract the essence from the leaves, and turn it into a gas, and when a person touches it, they see mirages of hope!"
"Yes, that is also an excellent idea, Orion," Camelon concurs. Orion beams. "This is very exciting indeed. Nyx and Orion, search up some Mirage Leaves and work on that fog."
"But sir," Nyx objects. "I haven't presented my idea yet!"
"No time for that. Now go. Meeting dismissed. Mirages…Hallucinations…" Camelon gets up, still muttering as he leaves the room.
I slump back down in my chair as the others leave. All I wanted to do was offer the least harmful idea there was. Now I've probably invented something new and horrible. Even if I can kill Camelon and put a stop to his madness, you can be sure somebody is going to pass on the idea and use it.
"Lily." Darin touches me softly on the arm.
"I shouldn't have come," I blurt out. "I've only caused more trouble."
"We can reverse that. We can use that idea of yours on Camelon," Darin murmurs in my ear.
I break into a crazy smile. "Yes, I'd like that."
Nyx pokes her head in from outside the door. "Get your lazy bums outside! You've still got work to do!" She must be pissed that she couldn't present her proposal.
"Coming," I shout to her. Darin grabs my hand, and we rush out together.
The past few days went by in a blur. I was right about Camelon overworking his employees—I swear he does that so his order-enforcers would be too tired to think about overthrowing him. To be honest, it was pretty effective—not a day went by that I wasn't thinking about sleep. Camelon hasn't shown up ever since the last meeting, and nobody would tell me where he went. Gossip must have spread out from what happened in the meeting room, because more than a few envious looks were thrown in my way. Not my fault—I didn't ask for Camelon to have my harmless idea turned into an evil one.
Darin and I tried to find the weapons vault, too, but it's protected by layers of security. We could never enter it. I'd ask for one of those electrocuting things that some people have, but so many people give me unfriendly looks, I'm almost sure they'd reject. Besides, Darin had attempted to ask for one, and they said no.
Today's supposed to be the day of the reaping. Camelon won't be going out to the Districts, with so many citizens plotting to kill him. I wonder if my mother is plotting to kill him, too. The good news is that he'll come watch the broadcasts of the reapings with us. Maybe I could try strangling him with my bare hands.
I check the time—the reapings are about to start. I should set out for the Main Hall now. Darin comes over to me and we head there together. I like doing things together with Darin—he makes me feel less scared of being here. A friendly face I can look at.
"I don't want to watch the reaping," Darin confesses.
I shrug. "No one except for Camelon does."
"No, it's just that I don't want to see the faces of the lives that rest in our hands. We were supposed to be here to stop this from happening. Watching it just reminds me that I failed, you know?"
"We haven't failed," I assure. "There's still time."
We arrive in the Main Hall just as the other order-enforcers start to arrive. The main hall is a large space with a gigantic television screen in the front. Darin and I wedge our way through to the front so we can watch more clearly. So I can watch more clearly, actually—I'm too short to see anything in the back.
Camelon stands in front of us, wearing a baby blue suit. I assume this is what he thinks looks 'smart'.
"Today is a very important day," Camelon starts. "This is the day of the reapings. I thank you all for your hard work throughout these years. Thank you, Robert, for giving me part of District 7's taxes so I can build an arena."
District 7? A man emerges from the crowd and stands next to Camelon. Is that District 7's mayor? Is that Joannie's dad?
"This, everyone, is Mayor Willows of District 7!" Camelon proclaims, thumping him on the back. Everyone hoots and cheers in response. All suspicions confirmed, I begin walking towards Joannie's father so I can strangle him. Darin yanks on my arm, and he shakes his head.
"He was horrible to Joannie!" I hiss. "He made her run away."
"Not now," he tells me. But I sense that he wants to have his hands around Joannie's dad's throat too.
The television screen suddenly flickers on, and it focuses on a woman—one of Camelon's order-enforcers—standing on stage with two large glass bowls perched on the left and right of her. Camelon and Joannie's dad immediately move aside so we can watch. My eyes stay glued to the two men I hate. Why is Joannie's dad working for Camelon? And Joannie's dad even gave him money to build an arena. Why would Joannie be killed, if her father had been working for Camelon all along? Why would she even have been in the Games?
Darin nudges me. "Look at the tributes of District 1. They look so frail."
I focus my attention back on the screen. I see two children, faces white as chalk, standing next to the order-enforcer. Then the screen shifts and the order-enforcer of District 2 reads out the names of the two tributes. Darin squeezes my arm. "I know them," he says softly. I don't know how to respond.
The agony continues. Watching the helpless children being dragged on stage, hearing the ignored cries of the people of Panem—it literally pains me. Then the most dreaded moment comes on—when the tributes of District 11 has been chosen, the screen changes to the familiar outlook of District 12.
The order-enforcer, a woman, takes a piece of paper from the girls' glass ball and calls out "Terra Laurette!" I wince. Terra is a year older than me in school. I don't know her, but I hear she's nice.
Terra shuffles onto the stage, and the order-enforcer picks out the name from the males' reaping ball.
"Ferrous Mellark!"
Ferrous Mellark?
"What a shame," I hear someone say from the crowd. "That's Lily's brother. He's so tiny."
I watch Ferrous walk on stage. He looks shaken, but only slightly. His small hands are balled up as he steps next to Terra. This is not the boy I know. That can't be him. He's not even twelve yet. His birthday is on…16th July. The day of Camelon's inauguration. I forgot. That's why he was so angry at me.
This is all Camelon's fault.
Before I even know what I'm doing, I grab Camelon's neck. He pushes me away immediately with great strength and Darin catches me. Others just watch in shock.
"You liar!" I shout. "You promised that he wouldn't get hurt if my mother promised to stop people from protesting! You jerk! I-I…" I'm so infuriated that I can't even speak properly.
Camelon rubs his neck. "I promised to keep your brother safe on several conditions," he sputters. "One was that your parents must never speak of what happened after the Peace Feast. I do believe she told Paylor. This is what she gets for breaking a deal. I hope this also teaches you to watch your actions more carefully. What you do, your brother will pay for."
I shriek and run forward to strangle Camelon again, but many order-enforcers hold me back and stand in my way. I twist away and run, not towards Camelon, but away from him, away from all the people. I don't want to go back to my room, so I continue running until I reach the BEDDING AND CLOTHING closet. I enter it and stumble on a heap of clothes, so I just stay there and weep.
I've come all the way to work for Camelon just for Ferrous to get reaped for the Games again, and find out that this was all just a trick to control me. I come here, Ferrous goes into the Games, and I have to do everything Camelon tells me to do if I want Ferrous to survive. And to make matters worse, I attacked him. He won't kill me, no; he'll make my punishment worse than that. Clovis had it easy—his death was quick. Camelon will make me watch as Ferrous gets tortured in the Games and gets tricked by false hallucinations…
I hear the door of the closet open and Darin comes in. I bury my face deeper in the pile of clothes I'm curled up on so he can't see me crying.
"Hey," he says softly, stroking my hair. Somehow, his presence makes me cry harder. He eases me away from the heap of clothes and makes me sit up, wrapping his arms around me. I sob into his shoulder. He pats my head and whispers comforting words in my ear, like you would soothe a crying baby.
"I'm—going to die—and—so is—Ferrous," I say between hiccups.
"No you're not," Darin says with determination. "He was going to, but I asked him if it was because he was afraid of a little girl. So of course, he said no, and now you're off the hook. The guy is all about pride. Letting you go would make him seem like the bigger person."
"Then he's going to kill Ferrous. And you," I sniff and pull away from his hug.
"I'm not going to let him kill Ferrous," he guarantees. "And I'm not going to let him get me either."
My sobbing has resided to hiccupping and sniffing. "I'm sorry for ruining your shirt," I say, spotting the damp spot on Darin's shoulder.
He smiles. "I've never really liked it anyways. Now let's get you to bed—Camelon won't be looking for you today." I nod and let him lead me back to my room.
He tucks me in my bed. I guess I am pretty tired from crying. "We'll think of a plan," he tells me. "I won't let Ferrous get hurt. Besides, he's a smart little guy. He can survive."
Not without me, I think, but I nod. Now is not the time to think pessimistic thoughts.
As Darin starts to leave, I grip his hand. "Thank you," I say. "For staying beside me."
He smiles. "That's where I wanted to be. And that's where I'll always stay."