Chapter 61- Terra Coppersmith
I get panicky being on the train again, watching the trees and bushes go by. I don't mind leaving where we just were, but I hate being away from home. It really makes me realize that nothing will ever be normal again.
I woke up screaming last night, almost falling off the bed in the process. I was having this horrible nightmare about the girl from 4 and Fletcher, and me killing both of them before their corpses turned into lions and attacked me instead. Shuttle had to come calm me down, which took a long time.
Almost two days ago we left District 8, and now we're just coming from District 12. What a miserable little district it is! Grey with coal dust, and all the people who live there look hopeless and downtrodden. The mayor was friendly enough, but it didn't make up for the dead tributes' families, standing underneath pictures of their children.
The boy had made it to the end before being killed by the Careers, but the girl had been killed in the bloodbath at the beginning of the Games. I don't remember much about her, only that she was very quiet. Her mother had tears pouring down her cheeks the whole time I was giving my pre-written speech. It seemed so insincere, and not enough in exchange for the tributes' lives.
After the speech, the mayor gave me a small tour around the business part of District 12. This was the first time I'd set foot in a district that wasn't my own, and I'm really starting to appreciate District 8. My home is smoggy and dirty as well, but we have hope in our eyes. Everyone I saw in 12 had dead eyes and blackened faces, from the coal they mine. I was happy to leave after the mandatory supper.
Now it's early morning and I can't sleep again. Too many memories have been packed into this train, and I just want to get off and go home. Leaning my head against the window, I close my eyes and try to clear my head.
Finally, I've had enough of being in the train, so I go to the very back where there's a little outdoor balcony area. There're some benches out there, and I sit down to watch the tracks zoom away behind us. The air is warm and balmy, a far cry from the winter scenery I've come from in Districts 8 and 12. District 11 must be very far to the south to be this warm in winter.
"Welcome to District 11," Woven says behind me, and I jump.
"How'd you know I was out here?" I ask.
"You don't have the quietest gait," she says, coming to sit down beside me.
"Sorry if I woke you."
"I don't sleep much anyway. Don't worry about it." She looks around at the unfamiliar trees. "It's been a few years since I've been here."
"You came when Shuttle won, right?" I ask.
"Five years," she agrees.
"I don't want to be here. I killed the boy," I say. I've been seeing his face all night, in-between the nightmares. I killed the District 11 boy for the bow and arrows that I barely even used in the arena.
"It was hard for me to face the families of the tributes I killed too," Woven says. "Just get through today and it will be better. You'll have a few days before you see anyone else you killed."
"What happened to the girl? I forget," I say.
"District 5 girl got her. Wasn't pretty," Woven says. "We should go eat breakfast; your stylists will want to get their hands on you soon."
I grab Woven's arm before she has a chance to stand up. "How did you do it? How did you get through your tour?" I ask.
"I gritted my teeth and bore it, then went back to bed when I got home. You can do this, Terra."
Several hours later, the train is stopped, and I'm dressed in a light green dress decorated with yellow vines. No wraps are necessary here, but I don't like how I'm dressed at all. The dress comes down just to my knees, showing off my prosthetics to the world. And maybe I should be proud of them, proud that I survived when nobody else did, but I'm not.
"Here's your cards," Postumius says, beaming. He's started to incorporate more reds into his makeup, alongside the orange, and it looks even more frightening than before. "Just read from these and you'll sound perfect!"
"Thanks," I say, turning my back on my escort. Shuttle comes behind me and touches my shoulder gently. She smiles at me, and I try to smile back. I'm nervous, and I feel so guilty for what I did.
All the boy wanted was to live, and I killed him.
The doors open and I'm led out onto the stage. The crowd below has to be only a small portion of District 11's citizens; the district goes on for miles behind them, surrounded by barbed wire topped fences. Peacekeepers stand on all sides, guarding the crowd, and me.
I look down into the faces of the people from District 11. Most of them look like me, with their brown skin and dark eyes. A few with lighter skin stick out here and there, but for the most part the people here resemble many of the people in my own district.
On one side stands the family of the boy, on the other side, the family of the girl. I look directly into the eyes of the boy's mother, and she stares back with hatred. Nothing I say will ever erase that. And I don't blame her for hating me. I hate me too, for what I did.
The girl's family consists of two people I assume are her parents, two children, and another woman holding the shoulders of a younger girl, maybe thirteen. Suddenly I remember what Graine, the girl tribute, had said in her interview, about volunteering for her cousin. This is who the younger girl must be. This is who Graine died for.
"Greetings, District 11. Thank you for welcoming me into your home, and it is a great pleasure for me to be here. I want to thank you for your children, who fought so valiantly and gave their lives for the good of Panem. I apologize for any grief or ill-being that I may have caused you, and instead ask for your forgiveness. I thank you again for the warm welcome, and I thank you for your children, the tributes of Panem. Thank you," I say, then step away from the microphone.
The boy's mother is shaking her head at my request for forgiveness. I look at her in the eye and try to tell her how sorry I am, how I wish that things could have been different. The mayor talks on and on about the Games, but the mother just keeps on looking at me with hatred. Finally, I'm taken back indoors, away from her gaze. But I can feel it through the stone walls, boring into the back of my head.
The mayor, accompanied by Peacekeepers, gives me a tour of the district. I get to walk through the orchards, looking up at the people who are picking. There are Peacekeepers all around, keeping track of each person, each apple that is picked. Up in the tallest branches are children, picking the highest fruit. Some whistle to nearby birds, and the birds answer them.
"We are very proud of our crops," the mayor says, gesturing to the rolling hills full of people farming. I nod, taking it all in. District 11 seems to go on and on forever, with no end.
"It's beautiful," I say. It is, but it also harbors an undercurrent of tension. I can tell nobody is really happy here, and the treatment by the Peacekeepers is even more brutal than in District 8.
At last, the mayor leads me back to his home, where I will be expected to attend a supper. Damius is waiting with an evening gown when I get back to the mayor's house, and he helps me change quickly, adjusting my makeup as well.
"Enjoy yourself, Terra. Enjoy being the victor," he says.
"Easy to say, difficult to do," I say, then I go join the others in the big dining room. Postumius is having a wonderful time, talking with the important people of District 11. I meet the only District 11 victor, Seeder, who is a lovely young woman with short black hair, lighter skin, and golden eyes. She's around Shuttle's age, having won the Games a few years after my mentor's.
"A pleasure to meet you, Terra," she says with a smile and a hug. I like her immediately. She's kind, I can tell, and has retained an air of gentleness, even after her Games. I'm seated by her during supper, and I do enjoy her company.
For everyone else, I stay as quiet as I can, speaking only when spoken to, and smiling at everyone around me. Shuttle and Woven have joined me here, as my mentors, and they help keep the conversation going as Postumius starts to lapse into drunkenness again.
I'm relieved when it's time to say goodbye and get back on the train.
As soon as the train takes off, I rush as quickly as I can to my room and collapse on the floor, sobbing.
Guilty, Terra! You're guilty, guilty, guilty! You killed the boy, and now you have to live with the fact that he's dead, and his mother hates you for it. And she should! You killed her son!
"Terra? Terra, are you alright?" Shuttle asks from outside the door, knocking.
"Just leave me alone! Please! Go away!" I say. Shuttle doesn't move from outside the door. "Please!"
After a few minutes she goes, and I'm left alone in my room. I hate myself, hate myself for what I've done, and who I am now. There's no going back to the before. I'm not the Terra Coppersmith I was when I was reaped; I'm a girl with blood on her hands. I've caused the death of three people, and it's tearing me apart inside. This hurts worse than any frostbite or knife wound.
And it's unbearable.
They find me the next morning, still curled up on the floor in my evening dress. My prep team goes through the motions of getting me ready, but I barely notice. The next few days pass like a blur; I say my part from the cards for District 10, see the dead tributes' families, tour the district full of cows and other livestock.
The next day, I see District 9, where the little girl, Catalina, lived. I look into her family's eyes, see the pain and sorrow in them. Her mother cries, her father stands with his arms around his wife. The girl had three sisters, two of which have tears running down their faces. The third looks too grief stricken to cry. The boy, Ornam, has only a father to represent him.
At the supper, I meet the two District 9 victors, Arla and Ripple. Arla is older, and has clearly turned to alcohol to cope. Ripple is a tall man, but seems gentle, and appears genuinely upset over the loss of his tributes.
We bypass District 8, of course, because that's our final stop of the Victory Tour, so we go straight ahead to District 7, a place full of trees. Of course it is, its primary industry is lumber. The boy tribute wasn't very memorable, but the girl, Cedar, was the one with the red curly hair. Her whole family, father, mother, and six siblings, all have that same red hair that is so striking.
District 6 is cold and snowy, two things that I hate. Luckily, I don't get a tour of the place, so I get to stay inside where it's warm after my speech. This is where the sibling tributes came from, Dove and Cabel. Their mother stands under a picture of both of them, pain etched into her face. My pitiful words that were given to me aren't enough, I know. But what else can I say besides I'm sorry for your loss?
At supper I meet four victors, and I'm surprised that District 6 has so many. Lexa is distant and cold, Fabian appears to be an alcoholic, and the other two, Jass and Orna, are completely drugged up and unable to hold a decent conversation.
"They had difficult Games, so they take morphling to forget," Shuttle whispers in my ear after the pair have wandered away. I feel sorry for them, I really do, and I make a vow to never end up like them.
District 5 was the home of Kouza and Alyss, who I feared most in the arena. Yet I pity them now, both of them. Kouza's family cries openly while I make my speech, and there is nobody standing for Alyss. How can she have no family to represent her? My heart aches unexpectedly for the girl from 5.
Out my window now I can see the ocean approaching, and it's beautiful and terrifying at the same time. I don't want to be in District 4, because that's where Calypso was from. If I hadn't killed her, she would have been the victor; her family is bound to hate me even more than the boy from 11's did.
"Say your speech, and let her go," Woven says, tucking a blue shawl around my shoulders. "You did what you had to do, just like the rest of us."
"I don't even want to think about her," I whisper. Calypso was in my dreams again last night, with her mutilated face and her slashed open throat, which I did; I killed her.
"Let her go after today, Terra. Trust me, it will make it better."
"Have you let the people you killed go, Woven?" I ask. She doesn't answer, instead pushing me towards the door. Postumius hands me the cards I'm expected to read off of, and then I'm swept onstage in front of all the people of District 4.
The first thing I do is make eye contact with Calypso's family, standing underneath her picture. Her parents and a younger brother who looks maybe three or four. I look away from them, to Mica's family; only his parents stand for him. Everyone involved has sorrow filled faces, and guilt tugs at my insides.
"Hello, District 4," I say, stepping up to the microphone. The sea of people below me is silent. "Thank you for having me here, and I also thank you for your tributes, the children of Panem." This is a horrible speech.
I think it's time I went off script.
"I didn't know Mica well, but he seemed kind and gentle when I saw him in training. But I did admire Calypso for what she could do. I'm very sorry for your losses, and I'm sorry I was in the final two with Calypso. I wish there was a way to make things right," I say. "Thank you for having me, District 4."
Calypso's mother looks at me straight in the eyes, and I see none of the hatred that Sorrell's mother in District 11 had. She nods her head slightly, and I know that she's forgiven me, somehow. The knot in my stomach lessens a little, and I smile back at her.
The mayor says a few more things that I don't listen to, then I'm escorted back inside the Justice Building. Woven looks stern.
"What?" I ask in a hushed voice.
"You went off script," she says.
"So?"
"They won't like that, but well done." She allows herself a smile. "You let her go." I nod.
The mayor has come back in, and she's saying, "I'm going to let one of our victors give you a tour of our beautiful district, since she's so eager to do it."
A beautiful middle-aged woman in her mid forties, with grey streaked red hair, steps forward to shake my hand, giving me a warm smile in the process.
"Terra Coppersmith, this is Mags Flanagan; Mags, this is Terra," the mayor says.
"How wonderful to meet you," Mags says, holding my hand in both of hers. There's something about her that makes me trust her immediately. "I'd like to show you District 4, if that's alright with you."
"I would be honored," I say.
"Then let's go," Mags says, and leads me out a side door.