Present Day — Two Week After The Bombing of District 12
Location: District 13
...
Katniss stabs her fork into the pile of grey-tinted green beans sitting on her plate. Her head hurts and her mind's plagued with worry over Peeta. She's bitter towards Haymitch, angry that he saved her and not him. Bitter towards everyone involved in this grand scheme, angry that they were all manipulating her as if she was a puppet.
The only person she's not angry with at the moment is Gale Hawthorne, the boy who sits across from her at their lunch table. He's also numbly chewing on the food before him, his fork mindlessly playing with his food. They sit in silence. Gale's been... off since being in District 13. There's a sadness to his eyes, regret practically dancing on the silver of his iris.
They sit in silence for a good few moments before Gale cleared his throat.
"You remember Madge?" Gale questions quietly, eyes trained on the barely touched food on his plate.
The question had taken Katniss aback. Out of all the people, she'd think would ask about Madge, Gale did not make the list. Katniss feels guilty. Not one time in her stay in District 13 did she ask about Madge. She hadn't even thought once about the girl she considered her friend. The fact that Gale, of all people, is the first to mention her makes her feel even worse.
She swallows a mouthful of odd-tasting green beans and tips her head into a nod. "Yes," she replies. "What about her?"
"Nothing," he answers quickly. "I just... the strawberries reminded me of her, I guess."
Katniss doesn't fail to notice how his fork pointedly avoids the portion of strawberries, the red berries remaining untouched.
She remembers the day Madge had brought him the morphling and ran through the blizzard, teeth chattering and hands shivering. At the time, Madge had begged them not to tell Gale. Katniss will never understand the reason behind that request but had respected it all the same. She thinks Hazelle might have told Gale, but she's not certain.
"We lost her in the bombings," he mutters resignedly. "She was the first one to realize that the Capitol was sending bombs this way." He lifts a forkful of food to his lips. "I think she was always clever." He notices the odd look Katniss gives him, and quickly adds, "I'm not certain, though. I never really knew her."
Katniss stares at him for a moment, before tipping her head into a nod. "Yeah, she was always quick-witted."
"I remember her playing the piano a few times," he continues, his voice almost wistful. "She was pretty good at it, I think. I wouldn't know; I don't play."
"Yeah, I guess," Katniss mutters, a scowl forming on her face.
She remembers how nettled she felt after Madge had brought the vials to the Everdeen house. It was the implications that something was going on between Gale and Madge. That's what nettled her then, and that's what's nettling her now. She was gone at the Games for a long time... long enough for the pair to get awfully close. Long enough for a visit to the slagheap.
"The girl liked strawberries a lot too, I remember," Gale adds. Either he doesn't care that Katniss is glaring at him, or he simply doesn't realize it, because he takes no notice of it. He chuckles lightly. "I remember the first time you suggested selling strawberries to the Mayor's daughter, I was scared shitless. You remember that, Catnip?"
She grits her teeth. "Yeah. I remember."
Still, the boy seems unaware of his friend's irritation. His eyes glaze over with regret. "Didn't she also give you that pin? The mockingjay pin—"
"Yes, Gale, Madge was clever and kind, and she played the piano. She liked strawberries, had pretty blonde hair that you always liked to look at when you thought nobody was watching, and she gave me that mockingjay pin," Katniss snaps. "Now can we just stop talking about her?"
The moment the words left her mouth, she felt so guilty. She's jealous of a dead girl — her friend who died a horribly gruesome death at the hands of the Capitol. Wait, that's not true. Madge was a girl who died at the hands of the Mockingjay. A girl who died because of her. Madge's blood is on Katniss' hands. Another pang of guilt ricocheted through her, and she felt even worse.
What is wrong with me?
Gale looks like she had slapped him with a brick. He looks like he wants to argue, like he wants to scream and tell her how horrible she is, but instead looks down at his plate of food.
"Sorry." Katniss sighs shakily. "I-I don't know what got into me."
He nods silently, eyes still trained on the food before him.
"You loved her, didn't you?" Katniss blurts, unable to hold back the question. "Or, at the very least, something was going on between the two of you."
Gale remains silent for a long while before clearing his throat. "Honestly, I don't know. While you were in the Games, we talked a lot. About the Capitol, about you, about her stupid piano, about my snares." He takes another long pause.
The huntress scowls. "There's more, isn't there?"
He nods once more. "She kissed me the night you broke out of the arena. The night she died." Her words echo in his mind: I had to do that. At least once. "I just can't stop thinking about her."
Katniss is shocked.
It is then Katniss realizes that whatever budding romance that could've been between her and Gale is over. It's as if someone came over and stomped on the budding flower. Her heart belongs to Peeta, whether he makes it out of the Capitol or not. It has always belonged to Peeta, and she finally realized it that night at the beach.
And Gale has moved on from her. His mind, once filled with thoughts of Katniss and her alone, is now filled with thoughts of the pretty, blonde girl who perished in a plume of fire and smoke.
Present Day — Two Week After The Bombing of District 12
Location: District 12
...
Madge Undersee nibbles a nutritional cracker, washing down the salty taste with the last few drops of water from her canteen. Her throat burns with dehydration as she savors the last few drops on her tongue. She sighs, rolling over to her side and cradling her knee to her chest. Madge wants to scream and cry for her parents who can't hear her cries anyway, but she forces herself to stay strong.
Madge decides that she will no longer waste time on tears that will fall on deaf ears. She would need to remain strong if she wanted to fulfill her promise to her mother.
Her stomach lets out a growl despite the cracker she had just eaten, and she lets out a groan. She would have to leave the bunker pretty soon and figure out how to get herself water.
She's been in the bunker for a week? Maybe two? She leaves only to use the restroom, then comes scurrying back in. The bombing itself lasted maybe an hour or two tops. The smoke and fire, however, lasted long into the night. Madge had been too afraid to leave the safe shelter. She had thought that perhaps peacekeepers would drop by and kill off the few remaining survivors. Though, internally, she knows it's unlikely.
She thinks of Gale, hoping that he and his family made it out alive. She hopes the Everdeens made it, too. Though she doubts that either family would, considering their affiliation with Katniss.
Madge reaches out for the flashlight and switches it on. The light flickers for a few seconds before emitting a dull light. The batteries are about to run out, Madge realizes. Though she's been trying to avoid it for as long as possible, she realizes that she's going to need to leave the bomb shelter pretty soon. Though there are enough food supplies might last her a week or two if her meals are scarce, there's not a drop of water left in that canteen.
Though she's fairly confident that there are no peacekeepers or hovercrafts looking to kill off the surviving members of District 12, she still doesn't want to leave the bomb shelter. She doesn't want to go out there and face the destruction that was once District 12. She doesn't want to go out there and face a world in which she's all alone.
Suddenly, her mother's last words to her flash through her mind. "You'll have to live for the both of us now."
Her hand darts up to the Mockingjay necklace she wears around her neck. Up until two weeks ago, the necklace had forever been around her mother's neck. Her mother never took it off, as it was the last thing that connected her with her sister. Now that she thinks about it, Madge remembers how the necklace was always around her mother's neck and the pin was always at her bedside table.
She stands shakily to her feet — warding away her thoughts of her dead family — and holds the flashlight out in front of her. She would need to fulfill her mother's wish.
Madge takes a deep breath inwards, and unlocks the door, stepping out of the cursed shelter. The sunlight hits her face, and she's forced to squint. The acrid smell of smoke and burning flesh hit her like a truck. She lifts her shirt to cover her nose, grips the backpack her mother handed tighter, and makes sure her mother's necklace is safely secured about her neck.
She decides that she's going to do whatever it may take to survive. It was her mother's dying wish.
...
Madge skirts through the District the long way, hoping to avoid coming across dead bodies. She needs to find a water source. Her mouth is dry, and her throat aches from dehydration. She needs to figure out where to find water.
She didn't bother searching her home for a water source. Her home is destroyed, the once-grand home reduced to a heaping pile of smoking rubble. Her mother's remains are probably somewhere scattered amongst the smoking pile that was once their house, and her father's remains are probably scattered somewhere around the Justice Building.
Another pang of guilt strikes her. Her father gave up his life turning off the fence, and nobody will ever know of his sacrifice. She vows to herself that if she ever makes it out of this cursed district alive, she'd make sure all of Panem knows about him and what's he did.
As she wanders aimlessly towards the fence, she tries to keep her mind off the dry feeling in her throat. She doesn't have a plan yet, but she knows she needs to find more water. Climb the fence, find a stream, figure out how to get food. Take it one moment at a time. Madge makes it to the fence and sighs. For a moment, she debates whether or not she should slip into the woods and search for the survivors of District 12.
She decides against it.
There's a very high possibility that nobody survived District 12. And even if people died survive, there's an equally high possibility that they were rounded up by the Capitol and taken as prisoners. And even if they survived and weren't taken by the Capitol, they'd definitely be several miles ahead of her, and it'd be pointless to try and track their trail. She'd wind up lost in the middle of the woods, eaten by some desperate wild animal.
She slips under the fence.
Water. I need to find water.
As Madge walks into the forest, one eye peeled for wild animals, she tries remembering what Katniss had told her about finding streams of water. Her mind draws a blank. Her throat aches with each step. Whoever prepared the backpack Madge's mother shoved to her obviously didn't do the best job. That one canteen of water ran out far too soon. In all her life, she doesn't ever remember being this thirsty.
If there's a God out there, or some sort of higher power, Madge's convinced they're out to get her. She grimaces to herself; it's a fitting punishment, being forced to feel hungry and thirsty for the first time in her life. All her life, she's been sheltered and privileged, never once knowing how it felt to go to bed hungry. Now, she's foraging through woods she's been in twice, trying to find something to quench her thirst.
She wants to cry, but doubts she could produce any tears if she tries.
Madge wanders for about an hour before collapsing to the ground.
She's tired. She's desperate. She lays on the ground for a moment, fully prepared to just give up then and there. Her mind thinks back to the 74th Hunger Games. She remembers that Katniss had nearly died of dehydration in her first Game. Madge tries to remember how Katniss survived it, trying to ignore the icky feeling of mud pressing against her face.
She's always hated mud. Mud — nasty, disgusting, mud — pressing against her face, and she doesn't even have the energy to push herself out of it. If Gale were here, he'd have teased her about her disdain for it. He'd call her the typical Townie, and she'd laugh and call him the typical Seam, dirt-loving, boy. Their dynamic was strange, to say the least.
They got close during Katniss' first Games, the pair often found themselves in the Square, hands interlocked with each other. One day, Gale had grabbed Madge's hand and lead her to the woods, where they sat at the top of a tall hill, and Gale told Madge all about how he wanted to run away with Katniss the morning of the Reaping. How he should've been more persuasive.
After that, their visits into the woods became much more frequent. He taught her how to make snares and attempted teaching her how to fire an arrow. The former pursuit was more successful than the latter. Madge decided to bring him to her house one day, attempting to work his coal-stained fingers over the pristine surface of her piano. Posy Hawthorne enjoyed Madge's company, as well, often begging the older girl to braid her dark curls.
When Katniss nearly died at the hands of the vicious girl from District 2, Madge and Gale had been standing in the Square. Gale had been swearing and shaking his fists, and Madge cried and covered the eyes of Primrose Everdeen with her shaking hand. Their hands both interlocked tightly when Katniss and Peeta were cornered at the Cornocopia, and even tighter when Katniss drew out those nightlock berries from her pocket.
When they had finally won, Gale and Madge had cheered and leaped for joy. The rest of the District was cheering as well, and in the heat of the moment, Gale had suddenly cupped Madge's face like he was about to kiss her. Instead, he drew her into a tight hug and whispered, "She's coming home." And Madge whispered the same back into his ear.
Then all of a sudden, once Katniss came home, they acted like nothing had ever happened. Gale ignored the blonde, his attention fully caught up with Katniss Everdeen. And... Madge? She went back to being alone. Katniss did visit her occasionally, and she did attempt to teach her how to fire an arrow (turns out Katniss was a better archery teacher than Gale), but Madge knew her attention was mostly divided between Gale Hawthorne and Peeta Mellark.
And despite her raging jealousy, Madge knew that Katniss deserved to be happy more than anyone else in the District. So, she stood by with a pained smile and watched as the boy she loved slowly slipped away from her grasp. The only interaction they had after Katniss came back home was her bringing him morphling, which he's not even aware of anyway.
Then, the night of the Quarter Quell announcement, they found themselves in the meadow broken and shattered into a million pieces. Just as they had the previous year, Madge and Gale grew close once more. Madge was jealous; the only time they were close with each other was when Katniss was somehow involved. Of course, she felt guilty for being jealous of her doomed friend, but the guilt didn't take away from her jealousy.
Compared to Katniss, Madge would always be second best.
The burn of her throat brings Madge back to reality. A reality in which her parents are gone, her friends are dead, and the boy she loved is either dead or has forgotten about her, and she's about to die in a pile of mud. She laughs to herself; mud is the least of her worries right now. She closes her eye for a brief moment before suddenly springing up, hope giving her a surge of new energy.
"Mud!" she exclaims aloud. Madge grins wildly. She mentally punches herself for being so stupid.
She crawls along the path of mud until it leads to a spring. A beautiful, sparkling spring. Madge gives a cry of relief and darts to the spring. She unceremoniously takes the water into her cupped hands and drags it to her face, slurping it in a manner that would make her poor mother turn over in her grave. After she drinks her fill, she leans back against a nearby tree contently.
The blonde smiles despite her unfortunate situation.
She's got a shot. A real shot of making it out of here alive. Now, she just needs to figure out how to feed herself.
