7/22/17
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or anything else I may mention
Hi again! Sorry it has taken me so long to update this thing. Life's been stressful lately, and it's a miracle I've managed to post today of all days (more on that later though). Thanks for being patient with me!
Thank you everyone who has followed and reviewed! It means a lot to me to know that people are enjoying my story :)
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The Manipulation Games 3: Rebellion
Chapter 2: Oleander
…..
"That last night- well, to tell you about that last night…"
I lay my head on the railing of the interview center balcony, zoning out of Peeta's much anticipated interview with Caesar. I remember my own interview, so long ago. I was more wide eyed and optimistic back then, before the death of my mother. And now, so soon after my father's demise, I feel as though even more of my innocence has been ripped from me.
It's a slight relief to see Peeta here, alive and well. A group of "Peace" keepers came came and got him a few hours ago, assumingly to take him for interview prep. A little heads up on where they were taking him would've been nice, seeing as they sent Annie into hysterics. Then again, expecting Peacekeepers to think things through sensibly would be too much to ask.
I would never admit it out loud, but it's good to see Enobaria here too. None of us have seen her since she explained Plutarch's betrayal to me. She seems torn up about it, though it may just be grief over Brutus's death. It's odd, realizing that her shortsightedness cost her something as well. When Peeta recalls killing Brutus, she doesn't even react the way she would've pre-Quarter Quell. Instead, she sits silently in her chair, eyes downcast.
"What does your heart tell you?" Caesar asks Peeta in response to his vague statement of how he didn't know of Haymitch's involvement in the rebellion. I bite my lip nervously. I warned him not to say anything about the rebellion if asked, but who knows if he'll listen? Besides, surely he has friends and a family back in District 12. He's not like me. There are still people he doesn't want to lose, and it's selfish to expect him to make the same choice my rash 16 year old self did.
"That I shouldn't have trusted him. That's all."
The quote brings Plutarch to mind for me rather than Haymitch, though in a way I can feel his pain. We both trusted someone with our lives who didn't tell us all the facts, and look where it got us.
"Johanna?" Annie mumbles. "Do you think they'll be done soon?"
I scoff, reclining into my seat. "Well scatterbrain, they'll be done whenever Snow finishes fluffing up his ego. Which could be never, so I'd get comfy."
Annie nods, following my lead and reclining back in her own chair. The seats are surprisingly comfortable, but then again it's the Capitol and you could probably take a nap on a table if for some deranged reason you wanted to. I almost find myself drifting off to sleep, before I notice the helmet-less Peacekeeper standing guard at the end of my row.
He shows me the smug, ugly beyond all reason smirk that has plagued my existence ever since I was a teen, and I make sure to sneer back at him. He knows he's in power here, and it makes me somehow hate him even more.
The Capitol Anthem begins to play, successfully diverting my attention back to the stage. A pair of guards march onstage, standing on either side of Peeta to escort him out. Soon, another pair marches away with Enobaria and a reluctant Annie, leaving me with the world's second ugliest Peacekeeper as my escort.
"Good afternoon Miss Mason," says Oleander Cedara, snake-like eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Shall we talk?"
"Go cut your throat," I deadpan, hoping to hit a sensitive spot.
After all, that is how he died.
Oleander doesn't say anything, instead grabbing the chain between my handcuffs and pulling me along. My mind wander back to the first year I mentored. When he was my father's tribute and Oleander's ex-girlfriend Maple, my best friend since birth, was my own tribute. District 7 didn't win that year, and it hasn't since. Which is why I was so confused, so angry to see him at my private training session with the Gamemakers, alive and well.
I don't know how he survived. And I don't know why he survived, instead of Maple or perhaps another tribute who didn't deserve to die. All I know is that the jerkwad in question is here, despite no one asking for him to be.
Oleander continues to drag me through hallway after hallway, and I soon realize that we're going the wrong way. While part of me wants to point this out, another far more mischievous part of me realizes that if he doesn't take me to the correct location there's a chance he'll get in trouble. So I keep my mouth shut for once. Besides, anything else would mean granting him the satisfaction of talking to me, which would be a fate worse than anything imaginable.
We stop, and he looks around before asking, "Did you read my note?"
I scoff and attempt to cross my arms, in spite of the handcuffs. "What did you expect me to do Pinnochio? Blindly trust everything you say like Maple did? How stupid do you think I am?"
Oleander growls like a dog (no, not making this up) and pins me to the wall. "All I've ever done was for the greater good!"
The urge to spit in his face is overwhelming. "Oh, right! The greater good! Almost forgot about that, with you causing Maple's parents to get shot and all!"
"Johanna," he snarls.
"And then what did you do? Oh, right! You started working with the man who assaulted her aunt and forced custody of their daughter after three years of being a deadbeat! Almost forgot about that one," I say, glaring at him. "I'm pretty sure there isn't a word in the English language capable of expressing what a piece of trash you are, but if I had to choose one I probably wouldn't be allowed to say it on live TV."
"If you would just let me explain-" he yells.
"But here's the thing- you never do! You always say this crap about how you're doing things to help people, and then when I ask you to explain you leave one of those stupid notes that say the exact thing you just told me! I don't know what the actual heck is going on in your brain, but it's pretty obvious that your plans always have plenty of room up there!"
Oleander looks behind him before turning back to me.
"That's because there are eyes everywhere."
Tell me something I don't know, moron.
I glare at him, feeling no sympathy. "Take me back to my quarters. I refuse to talk to you ever again."
…..
Not so sure about the ending, but I wanted to go ahead and get this posted so I suppose it'll have to do for now.
I have no way of knowing the religious beliefs of anyone who happens to stumble upon this story, but if any of you do happen to be religious my little sister could use some prayers. She's on an out-of-country mission trip, and today especially fate seems to be going against her and the group as a whole. Her group's flights have been delayed I don't know how many times by this point, it's thrown their schedule completely out of whack, and today she had nearly 200 dollars stolen from her wallet. It's an incredibly frustrating situation, and it's hard to have faith that after all the effort they've put into this trip something good will come out of it.
Quote of the day!
"*after struggling to avoid the effects of the lasso of truth* I'm a SPY! I'm a British SPY!" -Wonder Woman, Steve Trevor
May the odds be ever in your favor,
Spectrobes Princess