All bolded passages in the story are taken directly from the books and are not mine. I am not Suzanne Collins, to my everlasting shame. To explain further, the passages are used to show how this story is similar to the books but different. The passages often appear in places where they were not used in the books and at odd times to show the different contexts the passages can be taken in. In the end though, they're there to say something that I could not paraphrase as well.
This was supposed to go up yesterday, but we were having a bit of difficulties. Please any thoughts or prayers you feel like sending this way, please do. Our three year old cat Gotham is very, very sick.
Finnick's threat hangs ominously in the air until someone starts clapping. She walks forward all grace and angular beauty. Half her head is shaved, and there are green vine tattoos across down the bald side that disappear beneath her grey uniform.
"Beautiful," her full lips part in a smile. "That's what we came for."
"This is Cressida," Fulvia announces. "She'll direct you and run the camera crew. She's a brilliant up-and-coming director from the Capitol. She was all the rage. They had asked her to do some of the interviews for the Quell this year."
What she came for? I study her for a moment, "And did you?"
"I did. It was the perfect opportunity. I'll spare you the details, but I never made it to the Districts for filming. We diverted the hovercraft and came here." She steps forward, reaching out her hand to me. "My crew and I came for you, Katniss. We left everything we'd ever known and the relative safety of the Capitol to come here. To fight, to even die for you. Because you're right. Enough is enough. There are more than a few of us in the Capitol that feel the same way as you do, but not all of them were given the chance to escape like we did."
I shake her hand. "Don't expect me to hold back."
"If you did, you'd not be the girl I was hoping for," she laughs. "Let's have you meet the crew."
It only takes a few minutes to gather all of us Victors and make our introductions. Messalla is some sort of assistant to Cressida. He's very lean, rarely smiles, and is covered in piercings. The cameramen are two brothers who Cressida introduces as Pollux and Castor. Both have lighter colored hair with red-tinged beards and blue eyes. As I shake each of their hands in turn, I notice that Pollux doesn't speak. At first I think he's shy or a man of few words. But something tugs on me - the position of his lips, the extra effort he takes to swallow - and I know before Castor tells me. Pollux is an Avox.
All my apprehensions of how dedicated they are to this Rebellion disappear. Pollux lost his tongue for something he said and then fled knowing that capture would get him killed. They really are risking everything.
Cressida interrupts my thoughts. "Tomorrow we'll head toward District Eight if the conditions are still stable and let everyone see you're alive and well. Get word out to them and let them see where you stand. With Thirteen, with Coin."
A sick feeling washes over me when she says that. With Coin. The truth is, I don't trust her. None of us do. "I'm not with Coin. I'm with the Districts," I clarify.
Cressida doesn't miss what I'm saying and nods before turning to Gloss' question.
"Do people even know who Coin is out there?"
"Well," Messalla crosses his arms. "We've been working on that. Now that Coin has agreed with your terms Beetee can help us."
"Help you?" Finnick turns to Beetee and cocks an eyebrow.
Beetee smirks as he folds his hands in his lap. "I updated the entire interface of the Capitol's broadcasting system a few years ago. Unless someone has found it-not likely-there's still a way in where I can regain full or at least partial control for short periods of time."
"So basically, you can just like-let us in to air whatever we want to the Capitol and the Districts?" Haymitch asks. "I mean, is it possible, we can actually send Snow a video of my telling him, then demonstrating, how he can kiss my ass?"
"Yes."
"No."
Beetee and Cressida look at each other before Beetee clarifies, "Yes it is possible. But I think Cressida means that there is no way she's shooting that."
"That." She points at Beetee, "Exactly that."
"No one wants to see that," Finnick teases.
"Some do," Haymitch mutters under his breath before we all break into laughter.
Messalla directs us back to the conversation. "We've been shooting propos about who Coin is, about the lie of District Thirteen. A revealing documentary about how the Capitol couldn't hold Thirteen back so they agreed to silence."
"And in their silence, they grew strong," Cressida crosses her arms as she purses her lips. "There's a lot in there about Coin's family, how she lost them. All the hardships that Thirteen has endured. How Thirteen has somehow survived when they weren't meant to, like Mockingjays. With Beetee's help, that'll start airing tonight, and then tomorrow, we'll bring more and more footage from the Districts and the Victors who are alive and fighting for the Resistance. It's important that we make that distinction. We're not just rebels fighting against the establishment, we are enslaved members of society fighting against anarchy and oppression. There are power in words and how we use them. Please, remember that."
"It'd have been better if Peeta was here. He's the natural at that," I say.
"But he's not Katniss," Cressida focuses in on me as though I'm the only person in the room. "That doesn't change the fact that he's captured." She looks around at all of us, "That they've all been captured. Because the Hunger Games are still being played, just on a larger scale, and this time Snow's being forced to play too. He holds Peeta. He holds Annie and Johanna, because he thinks that he can use them as leverage against you. But the problem is that if he follows through on the threat of retaliation, he runs out of hostages." My chest tightens as she continues. "They are safe for now, because they are alive. The only way he can have any control over any of you at all is by keeping them that way. He's going to torture them. He's going to play his Games, but he can't kill them. At least not yet, or else you're free of him, and there is nothing stopping you from walking into the Capitol and killing him."
She pauses, looks in turn at each of us. "So no more of this I'm not good with words stuff. You tell the truth. You tell us what's real, and we are in charge of getting that out to people, making them see what you are saying."
Haymitch laughs, "I'd love to see that, sweetheart."
After some time, I find Gale, and we make our way to the cafeteria where what remains of District Twelve is waiting. We tell them that Coin has agreed to our terms, and though they're not as pleased with showing Victors amnesty, they don't lose faith. Gale would say it's because they believe in me, and maybe that's it.
We lay out our entire plan, and I'm impressed by how many of them rise to the occasion. Delly even asks if they'll teach her how to fire a weapon. Maysilee already wears the uniform of nurse, training to one day be a doctor, just like Prim is.
For the first time I see what Gale meant when he said that people just needed something to help them get started. Their faces are hungry, their eyes are wide and fearful, but they are ready. There is iron beneath their flesh, and they are tired of bending. Maybe we really do stand a chance after all.
We dismiss, and everyone mills around. Some people ask about the baby, others nod their heads at me or offer their thoughts or prayers. I accept them all a bit numbly. Before I even realize it's time, Haymitch is guiding me toward the hall where the announcement will be made.
My stomach ties itself in angry knots and I hope that another wave of morning sickness isn't about to hit when Coin begins her speech.
She talks about the first propos that are airing right this moment in the Capitol courtesy of Beetee. She talks about how they have made contact with each district or are attempting too. Then she makes the announcement that I have agreed to be their Mockinjay and the rest of the tributes here will follow suit. The people look confused about this as she goes on with the terms. When she mentions the conditions, the low murmur gets a bit louder, like the buzz of bees, but no one is too bothered by it until they realize that Effie is in on the deal too. That seems to be the last straw.
There is anger and outrage. I'm called ungrateful for not becoming their symbol just because they rescued me after seventy-five years of hiding. I feel my own anger rising. But what she says next makes my blood run cold.
"Along with these terms, Katniss Everdeen has agreed that if any of the Victors doesn't do their part, the deal will be null and void. Meaning that each Victor, including those here in District 13, will be put on trial for their deeds if it is warranted. Katniss Everdeen herself has said she will fight despite her pregnancy, because there is nothing left to lose."
Her eyes are icy grey skies as she looks at me. Anger eats me alive as she continues. That was her condition, not mine, and now she's neatly tied it up to look as though it was my own demand.
"Our Mockingjay will be a symbol for all eternity. She will lead us into a new age of freedom. With her behind us, with all that she has sacrificed and is willing to sacrifice, we cannot fail. The Capitol will fall, and the Districts will rise!" The whole room breaks into thunderous applause.
It all seems awfully familiar. Just like an animal in one of Gale's traps, I don't see the line until it has tightened around me and I cannot escape. This has been her plan all along hasn't it? Trap me with my own words, keep me obedient, as if all of that wasn't eerily familiar.
My heart is racing, and my throat feels constricted as I realize the mess we're in. Plutrarch approaches me, smiling, and I let loose a hissing whisper.
My cold eyes meet Plutarch's. "Let's get this straight, I'm no one's damn Mockingjay. Not Snow's. Not Coins. Not yours! I'm not a piece in your games anymore" My voice does not rise nor shake, it is whispery quiet, but the words strike home..
Someone puts their hands on me and I start to thrash out for a moment violently until I hear his voice, "Easy there, Sweetheart." He takes me by the shoulders and leads me out of the room. I feel lightheaded as we sweep past everyone, and Gale takes my arm as we make our way to the elevator.
"We're going to get some air, Katniss. Just hold on." Gale's voice is calm, but sounds distant as I force air into my lungs over and over. There's some arguing, but Gale along with Haymitch, Gloss and Finnick force the issue until we're outside in the sunlight.
It is as though I can breathe for the first time since I've gotten to District 13. I turn my face up to the sun and shut my eyes, basking in its warmth as my breathing slows.
"I hate those tunnels District 13 calls home. I feel like a scurrying little rat," Gloss throws himself down on a patch of grass. "I don't know how they can stand it not seeing the sky regularly. No windows."
"It makes me think of an Arena." Finnick looks lost and forlorn standing at the edge of the clearing. "It's all just something someone built to keep us in, to keep us safe."
"It's like the mines." Gale sits down on a rock and I sit beside him. "The mines are like great big toombs. They suck every ounce of hope out of you. Each minute you're wondering if it could be your last." He looks at me sadly with that old familiar smile before it fades. "That's what happened to our fathers."
I lean my head against Gale's shoulder, some of the built-up tension seeping out of me. "Do you think we'll ever go home?"
Finnick squats down with his hands covering his face. "There's no home to go to. He's taken everything from us. Peeta's been right all along. We fought for the wrong things in the Games. We fought to go home, but home is a person. And going home killed them." He sobs brokenly, "It's killed them all. It would have been better if we'd all died. They'd be safe." He falls to his knees and he sobs in the ashes and undergrowth that is now what District 13 looks like above ground.
Safety is an illusion. We have never been safe.
Gloss goes to him and speaks in a low voice which I realize is the point of all this, that terrible feeling coming over me again. Snow wanted the districts to hate each other for killing their tributes instead of the Capitol. But now a lot of people have finally remembered who the real enemy is.
Johanna killed Cashmere, Gloss almost killed Haymitch, and Finnick fought Gloss till the arena exploded. Yet it's Gloss who comforts Finnick when the Capitol would have him hate him. And that's when it really sinks in how deep this bond between us is all forming, that we could be allies maybe even friends despite the horrors we were forced to commit against each other.
But now here we are in a whole different kind of Games. All you do is replace the Capitol with District 13 and Snow with Coin. It's the same show and in the end, what if we're all back to where we started?
What they want is for me to truly take on the role they designed for me. The symbol of the revolution.
I won't have to do it alone. They have a whole team of people to make me over, dress me, write my speeches, orchestrate my appearances – as if that doesn't sound horribly familiar – and all I have to do is play my part.
My eyes come up and I see Haymitch looking at me from across across the clearing. "Figured out the problem haven't you, sweetheart?" He laughs darkly as everyone turns to look at him. He motions and we follow him out deeper into the woods.
"All we've done is trade one for another haven't we?" I ask.
"One what?" Gale says.
"Snow for Coin. Same person, different faces basically," says Haymitch.
"Like a mutt?" Gloss looks totally freaked out.
"No, what he means is that unless we're wrong, we're going to be right back where we started. She's not any better than him," I say softly. How did we get here?
"What can we do about it?" Finnick looks between us all for answers.
"What we always do, we find a way to win. We find a way to turn her own weapons on her," says Haymitch.
"That's not enough," Gale's brows knit in frustration.
"We do what people should have done in the Dark Days. We do what Emera did. We tell the truth," I say.
"Worked out well for her, didn't it?" Haymitch shakes his head.
"That was before there were 75 years of Hunger Games. That was when the Districts were tired of fighting and ready for peace at any cost. But we won't allow that." Gloss looks between all of us. "Which means, when she's done with us…"
"She's done with us," Finnick finishes.
The weight of that threatens to pull me down. Unless we're wrong about her, she's going to get rid of us at the end. She's going to try to let us become martyrs, because that's the easiest way to control a victor-to kill one.
"We can't let that happen," I say fiercely.
Gloss puts his hand out, palm up. "By whatever means necessary?"
"By whatever means necessary," I echo as Finnick, Haymitch and Gale put their hands in together. It is a promise I know that each of us will keep as long as we have breath in our bodies. By whatever means necessary, we won't let Coin become another Snow. Because home is a person, not a place, and it's worth dying for.
I look around at the people who have become a part of my home, who mean the world to me, and I wonder how much of my home will be left at the end of this war? Will any of us survive it? Or will it just be our last Arena?