"Please give a warm welcome to the Victor of the 24th Hunger Games, Jemima Sinclair of District Twelve!"
Jemima stepped forward, timidly, as Mayze beckoned to her to do so. As she stood by the escort's side, she was approached by a little girl in a white dress, followed by the mayor. The girl handed her a bouquet of flowers. The mayor gave her a plaque that was so big she needed both hands to hold it.
As she held onto her plaque, with the flowers resting on top, Mayze began reading from the cue cards she held in her hand. The speech that Jemima was supposed to give, if she could talk.
Also in Mayze's hand was Jemima's addition to the speech: a short piece about Chiffon. She'd written it herself late last night when she couldn't sleep. All the bad things that had happened to them had swum back to the surface under the cover of darkness. To expel them, even if temporarily so, she'd written about all the good things. Not just in the scrapbook, which she'd brought with her, but for her speech as well.
How Chiffon's hair glowed like a halo during the reaping. How she liked to draw. How she always stuck to her morals. How she apparently made the best scrambled eggs in the world. How she had helped Jemima, right down to the bitter end.
Mayze had loved it when she showed her. Jemima hoped that Chiffon's family would too.
Her reception in District One was a little better that she was anticipating. They didn't boo or jeer or throw stuff at her, like those in Two had. Instead they watched respectfully. And Jemima might just be imagining things, but some of them looked fairly sympathetic. To her or to their fallen tributes, she wasn't entirely sure.
As Mayze flipped her cards around and began reading Jemima's addition to the speech, Jemima couldn't help looking over at the podium where Chiffon's family stood. Mother and father with tears in their eyes, and brother remaining stoic. He gave an ever so slight nod of acknowledgement in Jemima's direction. Jemima felt the guilt well up inside her heart.
Their family had been irreversibly ripped apart. All they could hope for now was closure, or at least a sense of peace. But the hole in their lives would probably never be filled again.
And that image of Chiffon above them hurt to look at. Her normally kind face was now blank and unresponsive. It seemed like it was an imposter pretending to be her; looking exactly like her but lacking the one thing they needed: emotion.
It wasn't really Chiffon. It was just some representation of Chiffon.
The faces in the crowd changed. At Jemima's speech, many of them appeared to tear up. Some buried their faces in their hands. Some grew more sympathetic. As a whole, the entire crowd became upset.
Jemima wasn't sure how to feel about that.
Off to the side on the stage stood the other three One Victors. Lillian, Kingston and Lapis all showed varying emotions. Lillian looked to be on the verge of tears. Kingston kept his face schooled in a constant expression of stoicism. Lapis was quiet and respectful. And Victoria, of course, was sobbing her heart out on the platform next to the rest of her family.
Jemima felt the now-familiar sensation of tears pooling in her eyes. And she did not try and prevent them from falling. They rolled down her cheeks as she stared out at everyone, at their pity and misery.
Who would have thought that one of the most loyal districts was also one of the most sorrowful?
The banquet held in her honor after her introduction to the district was something Jemima wished she could avoid. She was dreading having to face the St Germaines, who were also in attendance. But there was no way around it. Skipping out would have been seen as an insult, and she didn't want that.
So she stood by one of the tables, picking at her plate of hors d'oeuvres, wishing the day would go by faster. She felt uncomfortable, standing there in the richest district, the home of her friend, when she herself was from the poorest. It was definitely a culture shock, for sure. Even after having come into sudden wealth and living in the Victor's Village for months now. It still all felt so new to her.
She'd been given a clipboard for her to write on during conversations. She had it tucked under her arm, hoping she wouldn't have to use it. Before all of this happened, she hated to be alone, in her own world of raging quiet. But now, she welcomed the solitude.
A hand gently grabbed her shoulder and she wheeled around, startled. It was Victoria. The skin on her cheeks and around her eyes was red and puffy.
"Hello Jemima," she said. "I'm Chiffon's mother, as you may know."
Jemima nodded slowly, putting down her plate.
"I have something for you." Victoria reached into her handbag and pulled out a familiar notebook.
Chiffon's sketchbook.
"I thought about keeping it," Victoria continued, "It was, after all, one of her most prized possessions. I wanted to keep it safe. But my son told me that she would want you to have it. You were her friend, after all." She placed the book into Jemima's hands and closed her fingers around it. "I think you'll find her last drawing interesting." Victoria coughed into her balled-up fist and awkwardly averted her gaze. She visibly swallowed. Then, without looking at Jemima, she continued to speak.
"Well, I'd better go now. You take care of yourself." Then she turned and left.
Jemima stared after her for a moment, contemplating how sad and worn-down Victoria looked, how slowly and sadly her lips moved. A mother losing their child is a horrible thing. Victoria had just lost hers.
But, Jemima thought, if I hadn't made it back home, then my mother would have lost her child.
The whole thing was cruel. Sick.
Jemima then turned her attention to the notebook in her hands. Chiffon's most prized possession, Victoria had said. She'd better treat it with the utmost respect. When she gets home, it's going straight into her bottom desk drawer, where she kept all of her prized possessions.
Her last drawing. Victoria had said that her last drawing was interesting. Jemima carefully opened the book and turned the pages until she reached the very last drawing. Her breath caught in her throat.
It was her. A pencil outline of her sitting against the edge of the life raft they'd been in, staring out at the horizon. She looked completely clean too; her hair was in her two neat braids, there was no dirt on her clothes, nothing to suggest she'd spent several days in the jungle by that point.
And the look on her face too, was special. She seemed to have an expression of contentment, of peace. Funny. She didn't remember looking like that or feeling like that in the raft. She supposed Chiffon had taken an artistic liberty. Good. That was nice.
A tear plopped onto the page. Jemima wiped away another one before it too could fall.
She found herself being transported through time, back on the raft, when she'd asked Chiffon what she was drawing. She'd never asked what exactly she was drawing, but she supposed that Chiffon wouldn't have told her. She would have wanted it to be a surprise.
Well, it was a surprise. A lovely, bittersweet one.
And then Jemima thought of Chiffon's last words to her:
"You'd be a great dancer."
Jemima hadn't thought about dancing, not in a long while. She had had other worries on her mind. But now, the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to throw herself onto the doorstep of the first person who would teach her.
But of course, who in their right mind would teach a deaf girl?
Jemima felt a resolve tighten in her stomach. She'd find someone to teach her. Just because she couldn't hear doesn't mean she can't learn rhythm, or timing, or things like that.
She made a resolution to herself, right then and there in District One's most lavish banquet hall, with an unused clipboard under her arm and Chiffon's sketchbook in her hands. She would dance. She would honor Chiffon and her final words. She would make her proud.
Jemima wiped the tears from her face and stood up straight. She would do it. No matter what it took. No matter how hard it would be. She was going to dance.
She will be a great dancer.
Thank you so so so so so much for reading and following this story! I read each and every single one of your comments and they all made my day!
On a side note, I've started writing another story for the series. It's called Fire in Her Eyes and i do hope you check it out!
Once again, thank you so much for all the support you've given me, and I'll see you in all the other stories! :)