The excitement dies quickly. There is no big planned event for my return. Once everyone sees me leave the train, they disperse back to their jobs, content with the fact that I am in fact still alive. I get it - I used to be a member of the working class, and I know more than anyone else that every hour at the worksite counts.
Salacia leads me and my family down gravelly roads to the Victors' Village. I'm desperately curious to see what the Village will hold for me; District 4 citizens are not allowed within the gates. A crowd of District 4 citizens, mostly wealthy women with no work to go back to, follow us to the gates. Only Cassandra, my parents, and I follow Salacia any further.
The Village is strikingly beautiful. As we pass through the gates, the road turns from gravel to cobblestone. As we travel down the road, a row of houses come into view. I count twelve, all in a semicircle. At the center of the semicircle stands a large fountain, ornately carved with fish, birds, and more that I can't make out yet. The location is amazing - based on the location of the sun, I can tell that it'll set right in view of the houses around me, which are located at the top of a cliff, with nothing obstructing the view.
"Well, here we are," Salacia says, releasing a breath. She must feel more at ease away from the poor people of District 4. I roll my eyes a bit.
"This is the Victors' Village," Salacia tells me as if I don't already know. "Nobody is allowed unless invited in my you, Griff. You are to be the Village's first occupant, so please make it your own. It is customary that Victors choose whichever house they please, so take a moment to choose. Each house is identical inside but can be customized."
I glance around at the houses. Something pulls me to one house in particular: the house second-to-right. I want to be at the edge of the village, but not the very edge, you know? It sounds silly. I hate to have to make trivial decisions like this when I've had to survive something like the Hunger Games, but this is my life now, I suppose.
I move into my house, which is easy since Cassandra already packed up all my things in suitcases. All of a sudden, she's more than glad to help me move out so she can move herself into my bedroom. Funny.
It's not until everyone leaves - Salacia to the train station and my family back home - that I realize how lonely this house is. I'm all alone in this giant house, the only occupied house in the village. It reminds me of Aurora. If only she was here. This house, the location, the sunset… everything reminds me of the dreams we had together.
My heart aches. I want to cry, to let everything inside of me out, but I can't somehow. I'm so mangled that I can't even cry. I'm just numb.
The phone rings in the kitchen, a shrill beeping noise that I know I will never get used to. I stumble to the kitchen, swearing as I fumble for the receiver. I realize that I don't know how to use a phone - do I have to press that red button before I pick it up, or will it just work by itself?
I elect to pick the phone off the wall and see what happens. "Hello?"
"Griff, can you hear me?" it's a woman's voice, but I can't place who it is. Who could be calling me right now who owns a telephone?
"Yes, I can hear you," I confirm. "Who is this?"
"It's Irma Bradshaw, calling from District 6," she says. I recognize that name - Irma was a Victor from before the war.
"I wanted to call and congratulate you on your Victory. As Victors, we have to take care of one another, and I want you to know that."
"Thank you," I say. "It feels… odd to be here. This house is lonely."
"It's designed that way," Irma tells me. "Don't let it get to you. You've been through the worst of it, but trust me, once you get Reaped, you never truly leave the Arena. The Capitol is always watching."
"I'm definitely aware of that," I say, shuddering from the memory of my meeting with Snow. "It'll take some getting used to."
"Why don't you come down to District 6 to visit?" Irma offers. "It'll be good to get out of that house of yours. We should discuss some matters in person."
I get what she's saying - we're probably being listened to. "I'd love to," I say.
"Oh, and honey? You have to speak into the microphone for me to hear you. At the bottom of the phone."
I take a look, and she's right - I've been holding the phone upside down this whole time.
The train ride to District 6 is an odd ordeal. The interior of the cars is oddly familiar, and I can't help but wonder if this is the same train that I took to the Capitol or if they're all identical. It's weird to be on a train like this without Salacia or anyone else looking over my shoulder. I guess I'm an adult now. All grown up.
The District 6 station is extremely simple and barren. It looks overrun, with trash strewn across the ground. There's not a single person in sight other than Irma, who offers me a small wave. "Welcome to District 6," she says somewhat grimly. "It's not Four, that's for sure."
She's right - it's bright outside, but the sun is hidden behind a layer of smog rising from the factories around us. The streets are lined with some of the ugliest buildings I've ever seen, and most of them look like they're barely holding themselves together. I shudder a bit as wind whistles down the virtually abandoned streets.
"Sorry it's so empty," Irma says. "Everyone's at work in the factories right now. They don't get out until six o'clock, and that's when the night shift takes over."
The contrast between District 6's Victors' Village and the rest of the District is even more striking than in District 4. The glistening stone houses and ornate fountains are visible from far into the city. They seem to call for your attention, being the only well-constructed architecture in the surrounding area. Irma leads me down the paved path to her house. Unlike mine, hers is in the middle of the Village.
As I pass the other houses, I look up at them, curious. The first house I pass has a rocking chair on the porch with a blanket covering it. The door is missing from the house, and I peek inside to see a well-furnished kitchen. Through the doorway, I see a broken chair on the ground.
Irma catches me looking and gives the house a long, hard look. "Tressa Devonis," she says. "She made the mistake of choosing a side in the war. She joined the rebels and paid the price for it when the Capitol regained control of the District. They broke down the door and never fixed it. As a reminder."
I look away, slightly nauseated. I don't look at any of the other houses, instead focusing my gaze on Irma's feet ahead of me.
Irma's house has a friendly look to it. She leads me inside and passes me a warm cup of soup, something I appreciate after the walk in the cold.
"Tressa is an important reminder for both of us," Irma tells me sternly. "During the war, there was heavy pressure on the Victors to choose a side. As universally recognizable celebrities, we quickly became political figures."
I remember that - most of District 4's Victors stayed loyal to the Capitol, and I remember watching their executions when the rebels took over.
"There are no winners in war, Griff," Irma tells me. "Anyone who fought for the rebels was killed by the Capitol. District 5's Victors' Village was bombed after they attempted to cut off the Capitol's power. Those who aligned with the Capitol in an attempt to save their lives ended up losing them anyway at the hands of the rebels. Only those who hid survived, or a lucky few among those who remained neutral."
That would explain how of all the Victors before the war, only six survived. I just sip my soup. I can't find the right words for Irma. She's suffered through even more than I have.
"You're a bright young man, Griff," Irma says. "I watched you fight. You're a strong person to be in the position you're in. But you have to understand that you have been given the gift of life. Do not waste it. You have to do whatever the Capitol says - and I mean anything. I hope you understand how important that is."
"I don't know if I can do that," I say, staring into her fireplace. "It just seems like too much to handle. Why can't they just leave us alone? We've done our part. We gave them a good show."
Irma just nods. "I know. But the Capitol learned a harsh lesson during the war when they realized how powerful the Victors were in influencing public opinion. We are celebrities, and the Capitol will do anything to keep our power under their control. You will do what Snow tells you to, or you will be forced to against your will."
The fire crackles in front of us as we sit in silence. I'm grateful to Irma for bringing me here, for caring enough about me to tell me the truth. I just don't know if I'm willing to accept it.
"I wish Aurora was here," I say, the words flowing out before I can even think about what I'm saying. "I wish she was here. Not me. She deserved it more."
"Aurora was smart to avoid a Katniss and Peeta situation," Irma says. She's not babying me, which I appreciate. She's being bluntly honest like a true friend.
"Think about it this way. If Aurora had won instead of you, she would be suffering through the same things you're experiencing right now. Do you want that for her? Maybe you're doing her a favor."
I don't know. Nowadays I can never distinguish between helping and hurting. Did Aurora do me a favor, or did she just try to save herself? Everything is so tangled. Nothing is black and white anymore.
"You're still figuring everything out, Griff," Irma says softly. "I get it. It'll be okay. I've been doing this for a while now and I'm still okay. It's difficult, but you've been through difficult times before."
I'm overcome with emotion. I've barely said a word all night. I turn to Irma, a woman who I've just met but who understands me better than anyone else, and I embrace her as tightly as I can.
"Thank you," I whisper. I may feel like I'm drowning, but I am not alone - there is Irma on the shore, reaching out her hand. All I have to do is reach out and grab it.