I wake up to my mother's voice and roll onto my side to find her. She sitting near my bed, across from Haymitch and asking him a series of questions while mixing some tincture or other. Haymitch seemes vaguely annoyed, which I take as a good sign. Annoyed Haymithc is regular Haymitch.
"Some apples are red. All red things are healthy,"my mother say."Conclusion: Some apples are healthy."
"True,"Haymitch replies with a sigh."Are we done yet?"
My mother ignores the question."Some peacekeepers are rebels. No rebels have guns. Conclusion: No peacekeepers have guns."
"The rebels have guns,"my mentor shoots back. Without looking up from her work, Mum snaps her fingers infront of his face in a way that tells me he keeps steering away from what she wants him to do."Focus, Haymitch, or we'll be here all day. True or false?"
He grumbles, but then answers anyway."False."
"That wasn't so hard, was it?"I pipe up, deciding to let them know I'm awake. I feel weird just laying there listening to them. They both turn to look at me. My mother instantly comes over, presses a kiss to my forehead and gestures to my bedside table."I saved you your lunch."
I dig in with fervor, my mother reminding me to take it slow every few bites. Haymitch just sits there, looking more bored than anything. I try to exchange a discreet look with Mum, but of course he catches it.
"I'm better, thanks for asking,"he says testily."Not insane or anything." He holds out his empty wrist as if to prove his point. But Olive still has her Mentally disorientated bracelet and she seems more put together than Haymitch did the last time I saw him, so I'm not counting that as actual evidence. I nod anyway.
"I took him of all the pills they had him on,"Mum explains."Now the psyhological issues appear to be subsiding."
"See? Not crazy, that's what I'm telling you,"Haymitch interupts. My mother gives us both a bright smile."I'll let you keep eachother company, then. I have other patients to see to."
She leaves us alone, and we sit there in awkward silence for a few minutes, then Haymitch forces a smile."Good work in Eleven, kid. I wish I could've - I don't even know. But I'll be less useless from now on, I promise."
"Good, glad we cleared that up,"I say, because I know arguing that he's ill would be pointless. I offer him a piece of my breadrole soaked in gravy and he accepts."Switch the TV on, Haymitch, will you? Messalla's putting a piece together and I don't want to miss it."
We have the TV on as background noise for a while, until the Capitol seal suddenly flickeres across the screen. Instantly, we both fall silent, staring, absolutely transfixed.
Caesar Flickerman is on screen and I already know who his guest will be.
Katniss's physical transformation is like a punch to the guts. The healthy, clear-eyed girl I saw a few days ago has lost at least fifteen pounds and developed a nervous tremor in her hands, raising the every so often to bite at her nails. They've still got her groomed. But underneath the paint that cannot cover the bags under her eyes, or maybe they didn't really try, and the fine clothes that cannot conceal the pain she feels when she moves, is a person badly damaged.
My mind reels, trying to make sense of it. I just saw her! It was only a few days ago. How has she deteriorated so rapidly? What could they possibly have done to her in such a short time? Then it hits me. I replay in my mind as much as I can of his first interview with Caesar, searching for anything that would place it in time. There is nothing. They could have taped that interview a day or two after we rescued the others from the arena, then done whatever they wanted to do to her ever since. "Oh, Katniss..." I whisper.
Caesar and Katniss have a few empty exchanges before Caesar asks her about rumors that I'm taping propos for the districts. "They're using her, obviously," says Katniss. "To whip up the rebels. I doubt she even really knows what's going on in the war. What's at stake."
"Is there anything you'd like to tell her?" asks Caesar.
"There is," says Katniss. She looks directly into the camera, right into my eyes. "Don't be a fool, Prim. Think for yourself. They've turned you into a weapon that could be instrumental in the destruction of humanity. If you've got any real influence, use it to put the brakes on this thing. Use it to stop the war before it's too late. Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you're working with? Do you really know what's going on? And if you don't...find out."
Black screen. Seal of Panem. Show over.
"Oh, shit,"Haymitch says. I'm too shaken to even think anything.
It's not long before Celeste, Plutarch and Fulvia come into the room. Plutarch gives me one look and sighs."Ah, so you saw. We're doing damage control as we speak, Messalla has his segment almost wrapped up. And luckly, your sister is a horrible actress, no one will really take it seriously. It's obvious she's speaking under duress."
That wasn't what I was worried about, but I nod anyway, numbly staring at the screen even though Katniss has long disappeared from it.