"We're all going to die, all of what, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing"
~Charles Bukowski, The Captain Is Out to Lunch and the Sailors Have Taken Over The Ship
I poke mindlessly at the fire roaring in the fireplace. In the throes of a blizzard, no amount of fire seems to keep me warm enough. The Games have been over for five months and yet I still feel them like a punch in the gut.
Each time Derek or Adele comes over, bearing some invitation, food, or bit of news I couldn't care less about, I send them away. They try to take care of me but I don't let them.
I chose to stay alone.
I find it easier when I don't have to worry about anyone else. I don't have to pretend, or do what anyone else wants, or expects of me. I take to reading, losing my days in stories. Every two weeks or so I brave the walk to the market to buy more books and, when I finish them, I throw them out. It's not wasteful. It's a long known fact that people don't hesitate to dig through trash for scraps, and there's no better place to do that than Victor's Village. Each morning I check to make sure they're gone. And they always are.
Sure, I still see the others. I've found that if I give into Derek and Adele occasionally that they'll leave me alone more often. Blight hangs around most of the time too. I think he's just lonely, being in his huge house all alone. Personally I think the loneliness is preferable to the alternative.
Each Sunday without fail I find myself starring at the T.V. screen while Caesar Flickerman gives the weekly update. I torture myself with it, but I can never look away. I think some part of me is waiting for something to happen – to indicate that this rebellion Finnick speaks of is actually happening. But I never get much. Only that Jens Babic, the newest Victor from District 2 is, as usual for a Career, an immediate star in the Capitol.
A part of me tries to feel bad for the boy, but it doesn't last. Each time I see his smug, smiling face I swell with rage. He had no mercy, no ounce of sympathy as he slaughtered through the field of tributes. He's hardly human.
It takes another month of particularly harsh blizzards before the Victory Tour makes its way through District 7. It's almost a welcome change to the monotony of waking up, reading in front of the fire, then going back to bed. It makes me feel something other than the aching emptiness in my chest. In some way, it invigorates me.
Jens didn't kill either of our tributes, but he's not greeted with any warmth. He doesn't seem remotely bothered at the lack of enthusiasm; instead he grins wildly and bows as if he deserved it.
Derek, Blight, William, and I end up together at a reception for his win, being the good little Victors we're supposed to be. I hate having to be here. It feels like I'm watching the deadly prowling of a fox through a chicken coop. Slowly and inevitably Jens works his way through the room towards our small group, Shane, his mentor, working the crowd behind him.
Both of them look at me as they approach. I swallow bile but meet their challenging stare; I'm the only threat here and they know it. Besides, after the confrontation with Enobaria, Shane's been giving me angry glares whenever we're within a dozen feet of each other, which isn't often. With those two as influences I'm sure Jens has no desire to make friends. "No dress, Johanna?" he purrs, his eyes and voice malicious.
I purse my lips, unsure of what he's trying. I raise my eyebrows, resisting the urge to look down to see what I'm wearing and match the ferocity in his eyes with my own. "Not an ounce of chivalry in you, is there?" I gripe.
Jens sighs, finally looking to my companions before turning his attention back to me. "I can be plenty chivalrous if that's what you're into" he purrs, taking a small step closer to me, not enough that he's in my face, but enough that I can easily understand the insinuation.
My eyes catch Derek's and I can see the nearly invisible anger there. Always on my side. My voice is curt "I can do better. I've done better."
Derek isn't the one I expect to speak up, so it catches me by surprise when it's his voice I hear instead of Jens'. "Is this what you do in District 2?" he says directly to Shane, but he looks over at Jens occasionally. "You act like this?" he waves at Jens "I've never thought highly of you, but I guess I didn't realize how bad it's been." Derek looks pointedly at Shane, swallowing heavily. "You can leave now."
Shane has an angry look on his face but he keeps quiet. Jens turns towards Derek, his face holding less of a smile than before. He's trying to hide it, but I can see the hesitation in his features. "You're a sad, angry old man, I get it. But it's not my fault that you live in this dump. And it's really not my fault you're stuck here with her," he looks at me. "But believe whatever you'd like" he bores holes into Derek.
No one says a word as they walk away. I'm ready to strangle him or take one of the wine glasses and shove shards of it through his neck, but both Derek and Blight step closer to me, Derek even placing his hand on my shoulder.
I pull away from them, but instead of going towards the assholes from 2, I stride towards the wide doors, ready to push out into the night. But I barely wrap my fingers around the handle when the two Peacekeepers guarding the exit stop me. I sneer and push through them into the snow.
They follow me immediately, moving in front of me. "This isn't an exit" one of them says to me, arm shooting out to block me from going much further. We're standing in a thin walkway, in which a Peacekeeper now stands blocking the path to the stairs to the ground below.
I glare at him, fury in my face. "Get out of my way" I snap, going to move around him but he steps in front of me.
"You're going to have to go back inside" he responds coolly.
I clench my fists tightly at my sides. "Move."
He doesn't. I'm aware of the other Peacekeeper shifting behind me and I shoot him a deadly glare. If they want a fight they'll sure as hell get one. Clenching my jaw, I glance back through the door to the party going on inside. Briefly I can see Shane and Jens speaking with the mayor, laughing loudly. I'd rather get put on the whipping stand than go back in there.
Snorting, I push past the Peacekeeper hard enough to make him take a step back. His hand grabbing my upper arm surprises me so much so that I let out a small yelp and jerk to a halt. Shaking off the momentary fear, I whirl around to face the man and rip my arm from his grip.
"Don't touch me" I hiss. If it weren't for his form blocking my way, I would storm off. I have no love for Peacekeepers, and definitely no patience for them.
"You need to go back inside. Now" the Peacekeeper repeats, though I can hear the uncertainty in his voice. Briefly, he glances to his companion, seeking validation.
I roll my eyes with a vicious sneer. "No" I say firmly "I'm leaving. Now" I add, mockingly.
But the man doesn't move. I raise an eyebrow at him, cocking my head to the side. "What are you going to do, huh? Hit me? Beat me? Whip me in the square? Please. Just get out of my way."
I shove the Peacekeeper and in his surprise he stumbles back. I force myself to keep looking forward, my feet moving, praying neither of them come to punish me for the act. All of my muscles are tensed as the snow crunches beneath my feet, waiting for the sound of pursuit. But it doesn't come.
My heart is hammering in my chest as I walk through the bitter dark back to the dimly lit Village, at least three miles away.
Snow swirls wildly around me, creating silhouettes that walk beside me all the way up the frozen path. No other Peacekeeper will dare stop me. My eyes burn through the snow, cutting each figure, snow or flesh, apart with a single look.