Disclaimer: the Hunger Games trilogy belongs to Suzanne Collins

Chap 37

My family has been given a room in the mansion. I usually sit by the window, waiting for day end and for the execution. The woods and the dead ones dance around me. But I can't find him among them. I want him to be there but I even lost the sight of him to the darkness. I'm scared of bathing. The steam in the bathroom engulfs me, hurting me. My wound, my lost is still fresh.

Finally, Coin summons me. She's working at the room where I found Snow with the dead council. Now in the new chairs sitting Finnick, Annie, Haymitch with a bottle, typical, and Beetee.

"What's this?" I ask.

"We don't know yet." Finnick shrugs.

"A gathering of remaining victors. Seventy five years and these are all that's left." Haymitch says with his drawling voice then laughs bitterly. He gulps down another mouthful wine. I look around again. Where are other victors? Did they all die under Coin's hand, scaring they would not support her? Haymitch and Beetee, not really people of public, so they're not threats to her. Annie with her unstable mind is the same. Finnick and I are unplanned survival. What does she want from us today?

"Sit down, please, Katniss." Says Coin, putting aside her documents.

I take a seat between Haymitch and Finnick. As usual, Coin gets right to the point.

"I've asked you here to settle a debate. Last week, hundreds of his accomplices in the oppression of Panem and Snow himself have been tried and now await their own deaths. However, the suffering in the districts has been so extreme that these measures appear insufficient to the victims. In fact, many are calling for a complete annihilation of those who held Capitol citizenship. However, in the interest of maintaining a sustainable population, we cannot afford this."

I feel like I can guess where she's going.

"So, an alternative has been placed on the table. Since my colleagues and I can come to no consensus, it has been agreed that we will let the victors decide. A majority will approve the plan. No one may abstain from the vote," Coin continues.

And I also know that whatever she wants us to decide I will do what she wants. Only doing that will bring me to the executioner position.

"What has been proposed is that in lieu of eliminating the entire Capitol population, we have a final, symbolic Hunger Games, using the children directly related to those who held the most power." She says.

"I vote yes." I say immediately. The others don't have time to utter a "what" toward Coin's announcement now swing their heads to me.

"No, it would set a bad precedent. We have to stop viewing one another as enemies. At this point, unity is essential for our survival. No." Beetee shakes his head.

I lock eyes with Finnick. Come on, Finnick, we're unplanned survival of her murder plan. Support her or Annie will be in danger. Think like that, please, Finnick. Even though you don't know about my deal with Snow, you should consider things like that.

"I'm with the Mockingjay." Haymitch says. After all, we're alike. He understands me, he knows I have a something inside my head. Only Finnick matters now. He will vote for two, Annie will be on his side no matter what. Please Finnick.

"I'm with Katniss." Finally he says. Annie follows him. An absolute victory for Coin. I let out my breath in relief.

"Excellent. I will make an announcement after the execution. Katniss, your request was approved. You will be informed about the time later. Now all of you will be dismissed. Thank you for your attending today." Coin says.

People leave the room in silent. I stay at last.

"What's wrong?" Coin looks up from the table.

"I just want to ask for a proper grave for Rhosy in District Ten. Please don't add her surname on it." I say. That's the least I can do.

"I understand." Coin nods and I leave the room.

I wander unconsciously around the mansion for the left of the day. When I come back to my sense, I find myself in a storage room. There're thousands of tapes around me. Documentary, events, television show, they're all here. I run my finger on a row of tapes with the name Hunger Game on them. Twenty three every year, one extra year with forty seven, for seventy four years, that's how many children died for a war ending seventy five years ago. Suddenly I feel an urge to see them, to see the face of the fall tributes, to remember them. I want to gather the dead ones to my own arena then maybe they would lead me out.

I slump down in the lone chair of the storage room before the television. I don't watch the game, stopping the tapes when the interviews end. I find for myself a paper and a pen. I write down the name. Those early years. The tributes are young, frightened, starve, they all are. Careers were not yet exist. Tributes from same District still lingered to each other, holding hands on their chariot. Gradually they realized the reality. Hand lets go of other. Was it like today? Seventy five years ago and a group of winners cast their votes on initiating the Hunger Games, sealing the fate of hundreds of children, dividing families, friends, lovers, and dividing districts. Don't worry, I murmur with every tapes, I will make a stop for it.

Face after face, name after name.

"Rose of Sharon Milch"

My hand slips, causing a line of ink on the paper. Rose of Sharon. I thought that's a type of rose. A slender girl walked up to the podium. She's looked weak and angry. No one cried for her. Is she an orphan? No sighing of relief. The people just looked down to the ground. Why? The next thing catching my attention is when the escort received a slip from the Mayor and she read the name on it for the male tribute.

"Cervus Deorr."

I quickly grab the box of the tape. The 25th Annual Hunger Games – the First Quarter Quell – where the tributes were chosen by their own District's voting.