Peeta
Three undershirts, two sets of uniform coveralls, three pairs of socks, three sets of underwear, extra bootlaces, a toothbrush, and powdered toothpaste - all I have left in the world. I look over my meager belongings, making sure I haven't missed anything before stuffing it all into my rough knapsack. When I get up to the hovercraft hangar, I'll receive the standard-issue military sleeping bag, tarp, food rations, and canteen. Beetee will hand out weapons, body armor will be checked and fitted to our measurements, and then we'll say our goodbyes.
The reality of the situation hit me while I was in the shower – I had sex with Katniss…and now I'm leaving her behind. I know one has nothing to do with the other, but I can't help the piercing guilt that spreads throughout my chest on the heels of my self-satisfied elation. I made Katniss come, I touched her where no one else has ever been allowed to, I got to prove to her how wonderful we can be together – something I never honestly believed I'd get the chance to do. But now I'm being forced to walk away, leaving her behind like I did in the Quell. What if our luck runs out, and I don't get the chance to hold her in my arms again? I think I may be able to stomach this outcome eventually, as long as she's safe in the end. At the very least, I'm familiar with this decision; I have made it twice before, when I chose to die so that she may live in the Games and the Quarter Quell.
With one final deep breath, I turn to check over my room, making sure I haven't missed anything. All I'm leaving behind is the suit I wore to Finn and Annie's wedding; it's rumpled from my night with Katniss, but I'm sure Haymitch will turn it over to Plutarch's team to be cleaned and pressed. Not that there's much need for it now; if I make it back here, the only thing I'll need a suit for is more weddings, and Odds be damned if I don't hope that we won't be stuck in 13 for much longer if we win this war.
I leave the suit hanging on the back of the door, and quietly say goodbye to a room that was never really mine. Over the last couple of months, Katniss's hospital suite has served as the place I find comfort in at the end of the day, for no other reason than the company of the girl who has spent weeks and weeks pulling herself back from the brink of death. She is my refuge now - nowhere else will do now that I have her. So, I vow to myself, I will make sure I come home to her.
The hovercraft hangar has one wall open to the elements, and the cold pre-dawn breeze takes the edge off the fog of exhaustion that threatens to smother my mind. The wind carries in a spray of misting rain that I let settle on my face; I breathe it in, the fresh air acting as a balm for my tattered soul. I'm glad Katniss will be seeing me off, if only because she'll get to see the sky for a too-brief time.
"Good morning mole people!" Johanna's high-pitched shout carries across the platform, and I can't help but laugh at her playfulness. Color-me surprised though when I turn towards her voice and glimpse her donning the uniform of 13's soldiers.
"You coming with us Jo?" I question.
"Of course I am! Promised your lady-friend I'd keep an eye on you," she replies, her smile like that of a razor-toothed predator. I'm about to argue with her, because honestly, Katniss needs to understand I can take care of myself at this point, when Jo drops her sneer and adds in a soft voice, "Don't blame her, Blondie, we all just want to take care of our own." She looks up then and inclines her head slightly to the lithe form of Enobaria as she makes her way out on to the platform.
Oh. Well, alright then.
I nod in agreement with her, because I fully understand the need to protect the people we love. I'm protecting Katniss by asking her to remain here, Jo is protecting Enobaria by fighting at her side. So, if it alleviates even a fraction of Katniss's anxiety to enlist the protection of Johanna on her behalf, I won't kick up a fuss.
Things go as I expected after that – I get my supplies, Beetee hands out guns and knives, protective gear is formed to our bodies. Gale arrives late, surprising the rest of us because he has always operated as the consummate soldier. He avoids us all, only speaking with Beetee, who hands him the same crossbow he carried with him to District 8.
Finnick arrives at some point during the melee, a quiet presence that radiates contentment for the first time since I met him. He makes his way over to me, and I'm able to make out the dark circles under his eyes, betraying the fact that he too probably hasn't gone to bed yet this morning. I smirk at him, and he picks up the teasing gesture before rolling his eyes good-naturedly.
"I'm surprised you're here, man," I chuckle as he approaches me.
"It may be my honeymoon, but I couldn't let you all go without seeing you off," he replies, his own smile almost overtaking his face. "Plus," he adds. "I have something for you."
"Oh?" I'm surprised. I never really took Finn as a man who gave away keepsakes.
He pulls something shiny out of the pocket of his coveralls, letting it hang in front of my face, and it takes me a moment to comprehend what I'm seeing. It's my token. Or it was the token I brought into the Quell to give to Katniss, filled with the pictures of her family and Gale. I thought it had been lost, either left behind in the arena or taken from Katniss during her imprisonment in the Capitol. I would recognize the gold pendant that Effie got for me anywhere though.
"Where'd you get that?" I sputter.
"I found it on the ground near the Lightning Tree in the arena. I remembered seeing both you and Katniss wearing it, so I figured it was better off with us than with the Capitol," he explains, his grin turning sly. "I recently had Haymitch help me to refashion it, so now I'm giving it back to its rightful owner."
I open the familiar pendant, and instead of the pictures of Gale, Prim, and Mrs. Everdeen I had placed there in an effort to get Katniss to fight to save her own life, it now contains three new ones. On one panel there is a photograph that was taken in Katniss's hospital room, with all the victors crowded around her bed. We're all happy, making silly faces for the camera, which was held by Prim if I remember correctly. In the other panel of the necklace, is a picture from last night of Katniss and I dancing at the wedding. Whoever took the photo managed to catch us just as she kissed me. She looks ethereal and wild, and knowing what followed this kiss sends a thrill straight to my heart. The center panel is a simple portrait of Katniss alone. She's sporting a small smile, the one that dances across her mouth just before she laughs.
"Finn…. This is amazing," I tell him emphatically. I don't think I'll ever be able to adequately explain to him how wonderful his gift is. This pendant contains everyone who I have left to fight for, and now I get to take them all with me. "Thank you, seriously."
He grins and nods, clapping me on the shoulder as I slip the pendant over my head. "I figured you didn't want a picture of the Everdeens, as nice as they are, or grumpy Gale Hawthorne." I snort at this and agree with his assessment. "I'll watch out for her," he murmurs. I press my lips together and nod my thanks. "I'm not saying goodbye to you, Peeta Mellark," he adds pointedly. "You'll come back, all of you. Hopefully by then I'll have gotten Annie knocked up and we can all run off into the sunset and live in a Victor's Village together until we're as old and unpleasant as Haymitch."
I bark out a laugh and pull him in for a tight hug. "You got it, Finn."
He holds me firmly against him for a few brief seconds, then pats me twice on the back and slips away to speak with Jo and Enobaria.
Boggs begins to usher soldiers up into the mouth of the hovercraft, and I crane my neck to see if I can discern Katniss's form in the crowd. I'm beginning to worry she somehow got lost or fell asleep in her room when I finally spot her; she's hunched against a wall, her eyes searching the group for someone. I use my bulk to make a path through the crowd, eventually ending up directly in front of her. She gives me a sad smile as I get closer to her, her eyes taking in the details of my uniform and the weapons that adorn my person. My heart breaks at her expression, but I force myself to smile tentatively back.
"Fancy seeing you here ma'am," I tease, finally coaxing a small chuckle out of her.
"I don't want you to go," she says plaintively, her voice small and broken. She steps into me and wraps her arms around my neck, holding her body snugly against mine.
"I know," I tell her, rubbing my hands up and down her sides. I let them come to rest on the curve of her waist, taking a moment to remember what this part of her looked like without clothing a few short hours ago.
"Is that – where did you find that?" she asks. She sounds like she's seen a ghost, and I realize she's spotted the pendant around my neck.
"Finn grabbed it from the arena," I explain to her. "Honestly, I think he forgot about it while he was waiting for Annie," I chuckle. "But he and Haymitch made some changes to it, and he just gave it back to me." I open it and show her the new photos inside. All the emotions she's been holding back break through, and tears begin to spill down her cheeks. "I hope you don't mind the changes to the photographs, but I kind of like that I get to keep you with me, no offense to Prim."
She huffs out a laugh and nods several times in a row, trying to get herself under control.
"Let's get this Odds-damned show on the road!" Johanna calls out across the hangar. She kisses Finnick on the cheek once, and Enobaria follows it up with a friendly punch to his shoulder. The two women grasp hands and practically skip up on to the hovercraft. I'm sure they're going to provide a great deal of levity on the long ride to 2.
Katniss let's out a strangled moan, like she's being stabbed in the gut.
"Oh, my girl," I whisper, and lean in to bury my face in the side of her neck. I breathe her in and out, letting the scent of her seep into me. "I love you, Katniss Everdeen. I'm coming back for you."
She sobs out once, her whole body shuddering against mine. "I…," she lets out one huge breath that seems to start at her toes and works all the way through her, ruffling the hair behind my ear as it catches her exhale. "I love you too, Peeta Mellark. I need you to come back. Watch your back, please."
I kiss her one time, hard enough so she knows it contains my reply. I will get back to her, no matter what lays in store for us. I pull away as the hovercraft alarm blares, indicating that our time has run out, and lean in to kiss her once more on her forehead.
Each step is a nightmare, taking me further and further away from the woman I love. I know I'm protecting her by leaving, but everything in me fights the distance forcing us apart. When I reach the ramp leading up to the hovercraft, I allow myself one last look, and turn to find Katniss in the crowd. She's where I left her, arms crossed in front of her chest, as though holding back the pieces of her from drifting away. Finnick has joined her, his arm slung around her shoulder. He's leaning in and whispering something in her ear, whatever it is has some of the tension draining from her. Finn catches sight of me and raises his free hand to offer up a casual wave; Katniss presses her lips together in a grimace but summons the strength to bring the three fingers on her left hand to her mouth and holds them up in my direction.
I can only hope the Odds are in my favor, and her gesture is not her final goodbye. I nod to them, these two people who I cannot survive without, and turn back to enter the hovercraft that will take me away to District 2.
I stick with Jo and Enobaria for most of the trip to 2. They crack off-color jokes, mostly at the expense of people they hate – Snow, Claudius Templesmith, prominent Capitol citizens, even Gale occasionally. They talk about their imprisonment after the Quell in stilted murmurs, patiently answering my questions as they occur to me. I appreciate their indulgence of my curiosity even more, when an eavesdropping solider from 13 interrupts with their own question about the details surrounding Katniss's torture; he's quickly discouraged from disrupting our conversation any further by the blade Enobaria casually tosses at his head – it only misses by a hairsbreadth. They know my questions come from a place of caring, while his are a product of rubbernecking.
We arrive in District 2 early the next morning, disembarking the hovercraft in the forests far from the city center Katniss and I stayed in during the Victory Tour. The effect of the mountain air on Enobaria is instantaneous. Her smile is no longer tainted with the fierce snarl of an approaching fight, and the constant thrum of tension that constantly courses through her muscles seems to have dissipated. She looks the way I felt when I stepped off the train in 12 after returning from the Games – like she's taking in the landscape of home for the first time after never expecting to see it again.
The people of District 2 have been torn apart by the rebellion. The villagers we interact with as we trek through the woods towards the rebel base camp are stone quarry workers, forced into lives of hard labor by the Capitol. This war means their lives could be different - their backs won't be broken for Snow's benefit, and they won't have to give their children up to training facilities to fight in the Games as the only hope that they may escape the quarries. But as we get closer to the city center, we encounter more ambivalence from the population. These people have benefited from their compliance with the Capitol, their children were fairly safe from the Games and the food on their table came from manufacturing weapons and working in the military bases. The dissent is striking to both Jo and I, who come from districts where resentment of the Capitol crosses all social boundaries. But Enobaria takes it all in stride, speaking with anyone who approaches her along our long march with care and consideration. Jo informs me a bit about Enobaria's past, which allows her to straddle both sides of the social divide. Not the only thing she's good at straddling, Jo cackles at her own compulsory innuendo, although the pride in her tone when she speaks about Enobaria is what strikes me most.
When we finally make it to the rebel base camp in 2, we're introduced to a force of fighters led by Commander Lyme, a victor. She breaks rank immediately upon our arrival, rushing to embrace Enobaria, lifting her off her feet as she reaches her. She's well over six feet tall, her face striking enough that I can instantly recall seeing her during Hunger Games broadcasts while I was growing up. She cups Enobaria's face, checking her over for sign of obvious injury and whispering in tones too low for the rest of us to catch. After a few moments, Enobaria brings Lyme over to Jo and me for introductions.
"Commander Lyme was my mentor in the Games," she explains, her expression one of affection as she speaks. "Gen, you may remember Johanna from 7 and Peeta from 12." She gestures to each of us in turn. Lyme reaches forward to shake our hands, murmuring hellos. Her voice is deep and rhythmic, her accent the same as the ones I've gotten used to hearing from all the District 2 tributes.
"It's Gen, please, at least when we're alone," she entreats us. "We were all victors before this, no better than any other." She looks to Enobaria and asks, "How are the others in 13? Haymitch looked like shit in that interview you all did. How is Beetee fairing? Are Katniss and Annie recovering well? How was Finn's wedding?" The questions spill out without pause, and I realize how badly the victors outside the protection of 13 must be suffering. I'd heard from Plutarch that some were being executed by the Capitol if they were suspected of supporting the rebels, others were killed by citizens if they were suspected of loyalty to Snow. If they choose not to fight or are too old or crippled by the Games to pick up a weapon, there's little possibility of protecting themselves. Victors often only have one another to rely on, because no matter how hard they may try, no one understands what we've been through except each other. My heart goes out to Gen Lyme, and other victors like her, separated from the only people she's genuinely connected with since her own Games.
Enobaria and Jo answer each of her questions in turn, sharing a laugh at Haymitch's expense and accepting solemn condolences for their experiences in the Capitol. I notice that Boggs is speaking with Commander Paylor from District 8, comparing maps and pointing out landmarks to help him get oriented. Gale is watching our group with a scowl, and I'm thrown back to his conversation with Finnick and I about what it's like to be a victor of the Hunger Games. He may feel left out, but his emotions are no longer my priority. I touch the locket around my neck and remember who I'm fighting for.
I spend my days practicing military drills and trekking through the mountains on scouting missions with our battalion from 13 and my evenings sitting around a campfire with the other victors. We encourage others to join us, conscious of the fact that most people see us as larger-than-life figures from their television sets rather than actual individuals with friends and needs. Eventually, Paylor, Boggs, and a handful of soldiers from both 13 and 2 begin to spend time with us each evening; we tell stories from our home districts, people ask me questions about Katniss that I try to answer as vaguely as possible, and Johanna tells dirty jokes.
One night, I notice once again that Gale is sitting alone outside his tent. He's whittling, and if I didn't know him any better, I'd assume he wasn't paying our group any mind. But I can see the grimace that pulls at the corners of his mouth each time I speak about Katniss and the flinch whenever he hears Johanna's screeching laugh. I feel compelled to extend a truce, if for no other reason than for Katniss's sake if we all make it home. She's already lost so much; I don't want her to lose her best friend as well, simply because she chose to love me.
I slip away from the group and come to stand in front of him. Gale doesn't look up at me, even though he knows I'm here.
"Can I sit?" I ask when the silence becomes too loud to ignore.
He shrugs and replies, "Don't care, Mellark."
So, I sit, ever mindful of maintaining a couple of feet of space between us. "You're welcome to join us at the fire, you know," I attempt.
"Not interested."
For the love of all the Odds –
"Gale," I snap, my voice sharp and harsh. Because I am done with this bullshit. "Man look, you can hate me, I sure as hell don't care; but you have to forgive her."
At this, he whips his head up to look at me. His dark eyes narrow, and I lift one of my shoulders in acknowledgement, as though to say it's true.
"Fuck off, Mellark," he bites out.
I let out a sigh and try again – for Katniss's sake. "She's been through enough Gale –"
"I fucking know! I know better than you what she's been through! I've been there, with her, every single day since we were kids. My dad died with her dad; both our families were starving together while you had food on your table. I had to go to work in the mines when I aged out of the reaping, while you had your own mansion in over in Victor's Village. I have loved Katniss for three years; we're the same, she and I. And now your merchant ass just swoops in and takes her away from me?! And you think you know her – Odds! Fuck you and your forgiveness!"
The whole time he's been talking, I've held my tongue. Fighting with Gale is not what I had in mind when I came over here, although I'm not terribly surprised by this outcome. He tends to have two speeds – calm or hotheaded, rarely is there an in-between for him. But I have to try to mend bridges with Gale Hawthorne, otherwise this whole night was just an exercise in futility.
"Gale, it was never a competition, not for me. I have loved Katniss since we were young kids, but I was too scared of rejection to ever actually do anything about it. All I wanted was for her to survive, and to be happy, if it was possible. And if I'm what makes her happy, then of course I'm never going to deny her that," I attempt to explain. "As for the other stuff…. I'm so sorry for everyone you've lost, but I've lost my whole family to this war. My childhood wasn't great - we didn't have as much food as you seem to imagine we did, and I'm sure my mother's reputation preceded her in 12. I was the third son; I wasn't going to inherit the bakery, and the only reason I wasn't in the mines right beside you, is because I was reaped. Being a victor is what gave me that stupid mansion, but it's also what has led to so much death and destruction for all of us who have that title." I pause, gesturing to the group by the fire. "I know you hate us, but we're all just trying to change the world for the better, so that no one else has to go through what we did." I slip the locket over my head and hand it to him, motioning for him to open it. "I know who I'm fighting for. Figure out who you're doing this for and hold on to it; as someone who's survived two arenas, when you're facing death, their face is what you'll see."
He's examining the pictures in the locket, and I watch as he runs his fingertip along the portrait of Katniss. I don't mind sharing this with him – we both belong to her, and we both mourned the loss of her while she was in the Capitol.
"She doesn't trust anyone anymore," he mutters, eyes still on her photograph.
"No," I agree. "She's been paranoid since our Games, when Haymitch told us about Snow's distaste for that trick with the berries. Seneca Crane – our Gamemaker – was executed for that, by the way. One more life lost because of our actions." I pause, shaking my head a little at the memory of the man with the fancy beard who ultimately saved our lives. "But she's also right, pretty much all the time, so I tend to trust her gut. It's also why we victors tend to rely on each other for company – we're used to looking over our shoulders, waiting for the proverbial axe to fall on our heads." I take back the locket when Gale offers it and say, "Just…don't count her out, Gale. If we all survive this, she's going to need you too."
With that, I push myself up and return to my own campfire.
A couple of weeks after our arrival in 2, we're called into a meeting with Commanders Lyme, Paylor, and Boggs, with Coin conferencing in from 13. Evidently, Cressida and her film crew have finally arrived, and it's time to start figuring out how we're going to take down the military forces holding the line in the Nut. Plutarch referred to the military base concealed in deep in the mountains of 2 as "a tough nut to crack," and now everyone has adopted the nickname. The mountain holds the majority of the Capitol's fleet, and the workers have been cornered inside against the rebels for over a month.
We go over the ways the rebels have fought and lost over the past few weeks – gaining ground and then being driven back, and while the Capitol has not been able to access their resources here in 2, neither have the rebels. Ground assaults will result in mass casualties, something Paylor is strongly against, and air battles have had no effect so far. The arguments circle around and around, until finally, after what feels like hours, Gale asks if it would be enough to simply disable to the Nut instead of taking it for ourselves. Coin seems intrigued, and he points out avalanche paths that we could use to our advantage. If we can cause an avalanche, we could damage the underground ventilation system and destroy the Nut.
"But…what about the people inside?" Jo asks, incredulity coloring her tone.
"What about them?" Gale spits back. "They're the enemy."
"Not all of them," Enobaria argues. "Many of the people in there are not soldiers. They're just workers trying to feed their families. You'd show them no mercy?"
"Where was their mercy when they firebombed 12?" he asks, his voice cold. "Besides Career, I've never known your people to be fond of sparing lives."
"Hey fuck you, Hawthorne!" Jo yells over Enobaria's retort. It looks like this plan is about to fall apart when I look out at the square in front of the Justice Building. There are tracks, and according to the blueprints in front of us, they lead right into the Nut.
"Can we do something to drive out the people holed up in the Nut, rather than trap them?" I interrupt the building cacophony of arguments.
Beetee's voice rings out from Coin's video feed. "We could – it looks like we could strategically drop bombs on certain sections of the mountain, giving us a higher probability of only destroying certain sections of the ventilation system," he explains. "If we aim to leave the train tracks intact, the workers will have a way to evacuate."
After a lot of back and forth, the commanders settle on Gale's plan with the addendum that the escape route along the train tracks will be left untouched. No one is fully satisfied with this plan, but each side has made concessions in the hopes of navigating the best possible outcome. The rebels will fortify the square outside the Justice Building, but we'll act on the assumption that the people escaping the Nut will be scared and desperate, and possibly armed. The rebel soldiers will act as snipers, the victors will stand by to assist with a surrender if needed. Cressida and her crew will film the whole thing.
So, hours later, we watch from the safety of the Command room as the rebels drop bombs on the mountaintop, and I imagine how terrified the people inside the Nut must be in this moment. I think of Katniss's father, of Gale's father, and all the men and women who have died under the hills of District 12 over the last 75 years. I think of the people they left behind, and my heart aches for the families of those we may have just been doomed to die in the dark underground here in 2. There's a cheer from the rebel soldiers as the avalanches begin, picking up speed and debris as they crash down the mountain. The commanders clap Gale on the back, congratulating him on his successful plan. Enobaria and Jo stand with me, clasping each other's hands as they watch this distressing act of war unfold. The only thing that betrays Enobaria's disapproval for what's happening is the tick of her jaw before she turns away to head out to the square.
We wait on the steps of District 2's Justice Building for people to emerge from the Nut.
Hours pass, and no survivors emerge from the train tunnels. I remember the mining families in 12, waiting for their men after a collapse; the blaring echo of the mine alarm raising the hairs on the back of everyone's neck until it becomes clear that there's no one left to evacuate. Then it's the wailing of widows replacing the wailing of the sirens, and medals are given out and settlements are distributed. We all pretend it won't happen again in a year, but we all knew it wouldn't be long until the next crew was taken by the mountain.
"Haymitch says one of you needs to make a speech," Boggs eventually informs us. "Let the workers know the rebels have control of 2, and they need to surrender."
I'm standing with Jo and Enobaria, Gale isn't far from us. I expect that I'll be the one making a speech, based on past propaganda efforts and Plutarch's designs for my Guardian status. But it's Enobaria who steps forward; she lets Cressida attach a microphone to her armor and takes a few deep breaths before she begins.
"My name is Enobaria Brass, and I am the victor of the 62nd Hunger Games." Enobaria's voice echoes around the square, strong and confident. "I am from District 2; I was born to a family who worked the stone quarries, and I trained at the tribute center before volunteering for the Games. I believed I was bringing honor to my family – to my district! But I was wrong! There is no honor in taking life for the benefit of the Capitol because they never give us anything back. We are left here, breaking our backs, and dying of dust-lung, seeing nothing for ourselves! Snow may have named me victor, but he also destroyed my life! So I fight! I fight for me! I fight for my district, and that is where true honor lays! I am a part of the rebellion, and we have taken District 2 – surrender, and there will be no more life taken!"
Johanna looks like she wants to start clapping for her girl, but I discourage her with a small shake of my head. While I'm proud of Enobaria, of the inspiring strength she always displays in the face of ugliness, I know that any outburst on Jo's part will only undermine any progress she has made with her people.
Enobaria's words don't only affect me, because just a minute after she finishes speaking, we hear the signal that trains are approaching the square. Guns are cocked, but the sound is drowned out by the screeching of the trains coming to a stop about a hundred yards away from where we stand. Men and women covered in dirt pour out of the cars and are met by rebel soldiers aiming weapons at their faces. Some throw their hands up in surrender, but others are coughing and hunched over from their injuries, and I can see the tension escalating as soldiers bark at them to submit to the rebels and people are too confused to respond to orders. Someone is going to get nervous, and people are going to die.
One man tumbles out of the train car closest to us, and I make a snap decision. I let my gun fall to my side and throw my hands up in the air. "Stop!" I scream out. "Hold your fire!"
I stumble to the side of the man. He's covered in burns and I can only imagine the pain he's in. When I place my hand on his arm to help him ease into a more comfortable position, I'm startled by the cold metal of a gun being pushed up under my jaw.
"Put the gun down!" Gale yells. He's closer than I expected – he must have followed after me as I ran into the chaos. "Put it down or I'll shoot!"
I throw one hand out behind me, hoping to delay him from acting on his threat. Katniss has always talked about my ability to spin my words into gold, and I have never hoped for her faith in me to prove true more than I am right now. I take a moment to scrutinize this man. He looks to be around the same age as my oldest brother was. His eyes are wide and panicked, and he's desperately blinking to clear his vision of dust and grime from the avalanches. I don't want this man to kill me, but I also don't want him to die as a result of his fear.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't shoot you," he growls at me. We're only inches away from each other, and I can see his teeth are coated in blood.
"I can't," I tell him. He's shocked by my words, confused even. "I guess that's the problem, isn't it? We blew up your mountain, you burned my district to the ground. We killed your friends; you murdered my entire family. We have every reason to want to kill each other. So if you want to kill me, then do it! Make Snow happy! I'm tired of killing his slaves for him," I spit out the last sentiment, making sure he understands I mean him.
"I'm not his slave!" he argues.
"I am," I contend, startling him once again. "That's why I killed Brutus, and Katniss killed Cato, and he killed Thresh, and Thresh killed Clove, and she tried to kill Katniss, and Cato wanted to kill me. It just goes around and around. And who wins? Always Snow – always! I am done being a piece in his games! District 12, District 2 – we have no fight, except the one the Capitol gave us. Why are you fighting the rebels? They're your neighbors, your family. These people are not your enemy! That's Snow – he corrupts everyone and everything. He turns the best of us against each other!"
Somehow, my words reach the man. He drops his gun, and I take a deep breath to try and calm my racing heart. I stand up and turn to face the scattered crowd. Everyone is quiet, listening to me; somewhere in the back of my mind I grasp that Cressida must have attached some sort of microphone to me in case of another impromptu speech she could use for her propos.
"Stop killing for him!" I yell to the workers of District 2. "Tonight, turn your weapons to the Capitol! Turn your weapons to Snow!"
Slowly, and then faster and faster, people drop their weapons and arms go up in surrender. I did it, I realize. No one else has to die tonight.
And then, I'm shot on live television.
I hear Johanna scream my name, and I feel a sudden overwhelming pain as I hit the ground. There are gunshots, loud and sharp around my head. The last thing that passes through my mind is one broken thought that repeats over and over again.
I'm sorry, Katniss.
A/N: I'm not able to respond directly to guest reviews, so I just want to thank everyone for their incredibly kind words. Your encouragement and enthusiasm for this story brings me so much joy!
