Greeting was easy. I smiled and run towards my mentors hugging them while giggling. I could see in the face of the reporters that after the two first minutes they did not consider me a victor, someone capable of killing others to survive. Someone that was able to kill a man twice my size while laughing. They forgot it all, looking at me as if I was an innocent child doing some mischievous things in front of the camera and looking embarrassed when caught.
Good.
Being sub estimate is great actually, because people do not pay attention to the ones that they did not consider equals or superiors. Luckily, they will start to ignore me soon.
This is the downfall of the Capitol. They think they are much better, that the districts are barbarians without a rational mind, so they are caught out of guard when something happens. This is why Snow is so dangerous, he knows how to look under the appearances and use it like a second skin.
The problem was actually Ceaser.
Ceaser Flickerman and that stupid retrospective of the Games. It normally takes about three hours to see the best scenes, considering that each edition takes about a fortnight it is pretty condensed. However, normally the victor had a lot of screen time, they are usually the favorites and have a lot of "exciting" moments in the arena. Not me though. I could see that whoever was editing certainly try, but the fact was there wasn't that much happening. The cameras must have been focused in the careers all the time and directed them to do everything they need to keep the public excited. I, on the other hand, spent most of my time walking in circles.
They show some things about me, how I run from the bloodbath and did not try to fight, how I watched the couple from 8 being torn apart, how my family react when I made to the final eight. There is a lump in my throat as I watch them, with red eyes, but trying to stay strong. They talk about how fast I was and how well I climbed trees, anything they could think was going to help me, but they sound at the same time desperate and defeated. They did not believe I would get out. I can't blame them; I doubt it too. But my heart ached just seeing their faces. Home seems so far away from here.
However, this did not fill the time frame and in the end, they showed a lot of Aurelius and the others. Showed how he was the one to kill Lark ("How did you feel knowing you revenge your district partner?"), how he hunted down the others, how my name was only mentioned once in a fire pit in the first days saying I was going to be dead soon and it was better to hunt the rest.
I saw all tributes dying. One after the other. It was the same and different than when I was back home. I did not actually know any of them well, I did not even talk to them, but we spent time together in the training center and in a blink of an eye they were gone. It unsettles me to how fast this can happen, but I can't help to feel a little detached from it.
It's like my emotions are behind a glass, I can see them, but I can't feel. This is probably not healthy, but it is better than losing control now.
I can see why the other Victors almost always seem like they were not fully present in the moment. To watch it all, your worst moments inside that personal hell that was the arena is…
"I must say Ophelia, and I guess that I talk for everyone here, in that moment I thought it was over. I was actually ready to congratulate the boy when you surprised us all." Today his hair was red. Red like Aster's skin, red like Aurelius' blood, red like the flowers I used on the reaping. I used to like it. I can no longer stand it.
"You did not believe on me?" I pout "I was even wearing a crown when I first met you!"
"That is true! You were indeed wearing this beautiful flower crown. It already became a trend in the Capitol because of you!" Ceaser laughs and point to the crowd where I can see two or three little girls wearing colorful flowers on top of their heads.
Ironic.
The thing I used to make for my siblings to make fun of the Capitol is being used by them as a way to support me.
I wonder if they will also use Katniss symbol. A lot of Capitol children using the sign of the rebellion… what a sight.
"Really?" I hide my face in embarrassment. I will need to sleep for a month when I get home, this is a different type of exhaustion then when I was in the arena, but not easier. "I couldn't wear any today. So, I am a little bit jealous."
Because tonight is not going to be a flower crown and yes, the victors one.
"Don't be, my dear. Now tell us all. Last year Finnick Odair was crowned the youngest victor ever, only to lost his tittle one year later. How do you feel about being the youngest person ever to won the Hunger Games?"
Mad.
Angry.
Sad.
Empty.
And so much more. But I can't say this. Maybe if I was indeed only a twelve-year-old I would. But if I was a twelve-year-old I would have died in that arena. Honestly even if I was the person from before I would have died. It is amazing how experiences and memories can change a person; how would I be if I did not have them?
"Well, Ceaser, I can call you Ceaser, Mr. Flickerman? I guess I was able to respond a really old question, that everyone knows the answer, but some people refuse to admit it."
Ceaser raise his eyebrows with eyes dancing of amusement. He is a weird person. I don't believe he is a good person. No one good can interview and talk to children before they are sent to death and smile. No one good can comment on each killing as something to be celebrated.
But it is interesting to have him on my side. He is the principal source of entertainment at Panem and is able to build reputations as easy as to destroy them. I doubt he doesn't know everything or at least a good part of what is happening in the most influential circles.
"Is that so? And what question it must be?"
I look around before leaning to him, as if I was going to tell him a secret.
I can imagine how I look to him. Dressed all in white, layers over layers of tule made the impression of a dress worn by flower girls in marriages from Before, my eyes are big, my cheeks regain a little bit of fat they lost and my face is clean, or at least clean for the Capitol. I look like eight years old, maybe nine. It doesn't matter that my thirteen birthday is going to be in a couple of days. Nyx did her job well.
"Girls are better than boys."
The crowd laughs, I won some of them today.
Better than I expected, less than I need it.
Too soon is time to face him.
President Coriolanus Snow looked at first glance as a nice grandfather figure, with his white hair and beard. When you look closer the contradictions began to appear, his skin was not wrinkle as it should be for his age, his posture was too correct, but the main problem was the eyes. Ice cold blue eyes that look at you as if you were a prey that did not have anywhere to hide.
And he was right. Until the districts rebel there is nowhere to run to. Not now when all eyes are on me.
I smile to him. It is not as near of the natural look I wished it was, but my cheeks are stiff and there is a lump in my throat telling me to scape and hide as far away as I can. The crowd is fooled and cheer to our interaction. They see a victor that is happy to what happened and is honored to meet the president.
Snow is not. He can see through the whole act, and he is amused by it, only arching the corner of his lips. I must look like a puppy trembling. Not threating at all.
"Congratulations Miss Gadeer. I must say that your games were particularly exciting." He says picking the crown. It is a gold thing, similar to laurel wreath. I guess it must be pretty, if it did not contain all the connotations. All the twenty-three deaths that occur so I can stand today.
"Thank you, Mr. President. I did my best." To survive.
"You sure did. And I hope you will do your best in the future as well."
There it is. The beginning of an awful proposition. One that I will accept. I did not expect to be so soon. I thought that he would give me a sense of calm after the games. I am also too young, the legal age of consent is sixteen, the rape and prostitution would be too obvious before. Finnick Odair haven't started yet, or at least there isn't any rumor.
My heart pounds loudly on my chest. I cannot answer. The words simply do not form on my mouth, so I just nod. Lowing my head as animal does to show submission.
I already gave up a part of my humanity. Now I think I lost part of my dignity.