14 years later…
I hold my bow in front of me with my hand tightly woven around it. My right holds a thin, yet sturdy, arrow with the notch in the string waiting to shoot. "Rye, come here quietly," I whisper. He quietly tiptoes to me. "You see that?" I ask. "What?" He whispers. I point across the stream where a deer stands behind a tree drinking from the water. "That's going to be our first deer of the year," I say. "Watch this." I raise the bow and pull the arrow back to the right side of my face. I aim right for the heart and nearly let the arrow fly.
"Willow!" I hear someone behind me. The distraction causes me to hit a tree next to the deer and scare it away. "Damn it!" I grunt. "Willow, Rye!" I can now identify the voice as my Mom. "Hey Mom," Rye says, turning around to look at her. "Mom, that was going to be our first deer of the year," I say. "Sorry, but what were you two going to do with it anyway? Drag it through town? It's Reaping day," She says. "The place is filled with peacekeepers. In fact, you two shouldn't even be out right now.
"We'd sell it to some peacekeepers," Rye replies, snarkily. "Very funny, Rye. C 'mon, we need to give Eliza some food," She explains while showing us the game bag around her shoulder. "Alright," I reply. "Wait, Willow, let me try something," He asks. "Let me see your bow."
I hand him my bow, and he takes an arrow from my quiver. "Alright, throw a rock at that tree," He says, loading up the bow. I pick up a stone by the stream, then throw it into the tree he pointed to. About a dozen birds fly out of the tree, and as they do, Rye aims for one. Sadly, he doesn't hit one, and now we've lost an arrow. "Nice one, Rye." I mock. "Shut up, Willow." He snaps back playfully. "You've got to be faster, Rye, and you have to guess how the birds will fly so you can actually hit one for once." He's only one year younger than me, but I still teach him as if I were Mom.
"He has to fix his form too," Mom adds in. "Maybe tomorrow instead of hunting, I can come out here to teach you both better techniques." Nearly every day since I was 12 and he was 11, we'd go into the woods just before the sky started to glow yellow with morning light. We'd practice shooting at trees without our parents knowing. Except, Mom found out soon after we started and wasn't very happy with us. But, eventually, she'd come out with us and teach us how to hunt properly. My Dad, on the other hand, still doesn't like us going into the woods. He worries about us all, rightfully so since the Capitol took over again, but now that Rye and I are older, he isn't as bothered.
I don't remember what life was like before President Rose took over but, from what my parents say, it was better than it is now. We're nowhere near struggling because we still have some money from when my parents won their Hunger Games. But, we don't have as much money as we used to since the bakery was burned down and sold to some rich people from District 1. "C'mon, let's go." Mom's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. We start to walk the mile towards the fence, which leads into the Seam. "First, we're going to go to Eliza's house, then back home. Your Dad is making Iris's favorite meal for lunch." She explains.
Eliza Hawthorne is the widowed wife of Gale Hawthorn. When Rose sent Peacekeepers into the Districts, Gale was shot and killed for his association with the rebellion along with many others. Eliza had to move from District 2 to 12 because of this. Iris is my little sister. She doesn't really like the woods all that much. Iris is not very quiet while walking, and doesn't like the dangers present here. So, she usually stays with my Dad and helps him cook food to give to those in the Seam. And, this is her first year eligible for the Reaping. My Mom may look like she's keeping it together, but I can read her mind almost as good as my Dad can, she's miserable inside. She plasters a smile on her face whenever we're outside, though.
We reach the fence and crawl under one by one. It was electrified until I was about 5 years old, and then it stopped working again. We make our way into the coal ridden Seam placed at the border end of District 12. At the edge right by the fence, the fireplace from my Mom's old house remains, broken, but is still there. Kind of like my mother. We walk down the road past short, skinny children accompanied by parents trying to clean the coal dust off their clothing. It feels like hours, but we finally make it to Eliza's small house, which is located at the Seam border next to the middle-class section. Middle-class is an exaggerated term, everyone in District 12 is poor, some just have a few extra pennies to spare.
Like my grandmother was once, Eliza is the only healer in the whole District. My Mom knocks on the door twice before opening it. "Eliza, it's the Mellarks." She announces. "Come in!" We hear her respond. We step in and see her grinding some herbs to make medicine. "Hey, Katniss. How are you?" She asks. "I'm fine," She lies. "Hi, Willow, Rye, I got something for Iris," She tells us. She has a sweet voice, the kind that comforts you no matter how upset you are. "Oh, thank you," I say as she opens a cabinet. She grabs something wrapped in a brown cloth and tied off so it doesn't open. "Give it to her after the Reaping, it's some of my spare thread and fabric. Last week she was telling me how she wanted some." I grab the wrapped gift and put it in my game bag. "Thank you, Eliza. Iris will love it," Mom says.
Eliza smiles at her in response. She's not much older than my Mom, her eyes still look young compared to other people in the District. Eliza has long blonde hair, hazel green eyes, and pale skin. She usually wears the same green dress, which makes her eyes look brighter. She is petite and frail from lack of physical activity, a stark difference to Mom and I.
Mom hands her a squirrel and some berries from her game bag, "Here," Mom says. "We'll be back in a few days to get you some fish." She takes it gratefully with a smile. "Alright, you three can go back now, I know you've all got a stressful day," Eliza says with a slight frown. My Mom's eyes open slightly in fear, so Rye steps up to speak for her. "It'll all be fine, Eliza. Have a good day."
"You too, dear," She responds. Rye opens the door for Mom and I. We leave and start heading towards our house. "Mom." Rye tries to get her attention. "Mom!" He says, louder this time. "What?" Mom asks, snapping back to reality. "Stop worrying so much, it's Iris's first year in, she won't get picked." He tries to comfort her. "That's what I said about my sister," She says as tears swell in her eyes. Rye looks down, knowing he just triggered memories Mom so desperately wants to forget.
"Sorry..." Rye remorses. "You're fine, let's just hurry up and get back home," She says. We walk faster until we reach our home. It's nothing big, but it can fit all five of us. It's grey and dirty on the outside, with some dark wood stairs leading up to the matching door. We walk up those steps, each one releasing a loud creak, before Mom opens the door. We all step inside, take off our shoes, and I go into the kitchen where my Dad and Iris are.
I walk in and see them both working on a tiny cake for later. "Hey," I say as I enter. "Willow, why did you leave to hunt? There are peacekeepers everywhere," Dad says, worried as usual. "Dad, it's okay, we went out before the sun even rose and left before the Peacekeepers made their way through town," I reassure him. "Dad's making cheese buns today!" Iris jumps in excitedly. "Really? I didn't know he had the ingredients to make those again," I say. "Well, I was able to find the money to buy those ingredients. I'll start making them after the Reaping so they'll be fresh tonight," He explains. Suddenly, he tenses up slightly."Iris, why don't you go tell Mom and Rye about the cheese buns." She nods her head and runs off.
She's 12 now, but is still stuck in her childlike mind filled with bright colors and colorful lands. Eliza thinks it's her way of coping with all the chaos of our world. "What did you want to talk to me about?" I ask, knowing whenever he sends people out of the room, it means he needs to talk. His eyes glaze over in a way I've only seen a few times. Oh no.
"Dad?" I ask. He starts breathing heavily and gripping the counter until his knuckles turn white. "Dad, whatever you're seeing isn't real." This has happened before, but a larger flashback like this isn't common. It's one of the many scars the Capitol has left on my parents. Occasionally we all have to play the "real or not real" game with him, or we just have to let him grip the edge of a chair until it passes. He rarely gets violent anymore, but with everything happening today I can't risk him getting out of control.
"Mom," I call out slightly louder and more worried than my usual tone of voice. "I need you in here." She quickly makes her way into the kitchen, and it takes her only seconds to see what's going on.
"Peeta, it's not real." She says calmly, so she doesn't scare him. Gently, she wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head on his back. "It's okay," She whispers. In a few seconds, his eyes open back up, and he lets go of the counter. "You," He says, pointing to me. His darkened eyes stare daggers sending a chill down my spine. "You're my daughter. Real or not real?" He asks. "Real," I respond. It takes a moment before a look of realization spreads across his face. "I'm so sorry, Willow." He says, holding his head in his hands. "You're okay, Dad," I respond. I hug him tightly, glad to have him back, then step back. "I'm going to tell Iris to start getting ready." I leave the room and walk into the main room where Iris is sitting next to Rye. "Iris, you should start getting ready for today," I tell her. Panic spreads across her face at my words.
"You're going to be okay, Iris." Rye tries to comfort her. She runs up the stairs to our shared room to get ready. "Did Dad have another episode?" He asks me. I nod in response, it's strange how our Dad can go from the nicest man to one filled with Capitol driven hatred in a matter of seconds. "What dress is she going to wear?" I ask Mom as she walks into the room. "One the Capitol gave you aunt Prim after my first games," She explains. We sit in silence for a few moments, the only noise comes from Dad working in the kitchen. "She'll be fine," Mom tries to reassure us but mainly herself. "Yes, she will be. No matter what," I respond.
This scares my Mom slightly, I can see it on her face. It's destined one of us will be reaped and thrown into the games, we just don't know when. It's like Rose is dangling a bomb over our house every day until he decides it's time to let go and destroy our family once again. After he took over, almost everyone who had a close relationship with any significant person in the resistance was killed. This included anyone from Capitol citizens to Victors.
Mom tells me stories of those killed by President Rose: Haymitch, Gale, Johanna, a woman named Tigris, Cressida, Annie, Plutarch, and so many others. They made an exception, though, any of these people who had children who would one day be eligible for the Reaping were spared. That's what happened to Johanna Mason and Annie Odair. The Capitol didn't know Johanna had a daughter until they had already killed her. Johanna's daughter, Tanya, ended up going into the 10th games and winning. Annie's son, Finn, ended up being reaped for the 5th games and dying in 2nd place. This caused Annie's suicide.
"Willow, Rye," Mom starts. "You two should go get ready now." I walk upstairs as Rye goes into the small bathroom below the stairs he always gets ready in. We were lucky to find such a decent house, Iris and I share a bed upstairs, my parents have their room, and Rye sleeps in the living area. I walk into our room to see Iris brushing her long blonde hair on the bed. "Hey, flower," I say, using the nickname I've used since we were little.
It's something everyone calls her because of the fact she looks like a fresh flower. Mom says she looks a lot like Aunt Primrose, but different at the same time. Iris is tiny for her age, she's scrawny despite how well we eat compared to others, but she's absolutely beautiful. Iris and I look almost opposite each other, she has long golden yellow hair, bright blue eyes, and pale skin like Dad.
I, on the other hand, look like Mom with my long dark hair and olive skin. My striking feature is my Dad's eyes, though, which throws some people off. Rye looks exactly like my Dad with golden hair and pale skin. But, he has grey eyes like my Mom. Despite the fact he looks like my Dad, he's closest to Mom. I don't have a specific parent I'm the closest to, but Iris likes to hang out and bake with Dad more than hunt in the woods with the rest of us.
"Are you nearly ready?" I ask her. "I need to get dressed and have Momma do my hair," She chirps out. "What did Momma pick out for you?" She grabs the dress of our bed and holds it up for me. It's difficult to see the details of it because of how she's holding it, but it's a muted purple dress with no other distinctions I can see at the moment. "Let me brush my hair so you can get changed," I tell her. She gives me the wooden comb Mom made for us and starts to strip out of her clothes.
I start to brush my long, wavy hair. I don't usually have it up, I like to have my hair draped down the sides of my head. Iris is like Mom and prefers to keep it in a side braid. Iris interrupts my brushing by throwing my dress at me. "This is your dress, Willow." I hold it up and see it's one my Mom used to wear. It's from the Capitol, and the tag on the inside says it was made by Cinna. I smile at the fact Mom gave me one of his dresses. It's a grey long sleeve dress that should end at around my mid-thigh. I get up and strip out of my hunting clothes before pulling the dress over my head. "Willow!" Iris squeals. "You look beautiful!"
"Thank you, flower," I say with a smile. Iris is struggling to get her dress over her head, so I step over to her to help. We manage to pull it over her head, and I fix the collar. I step back and look at the dress. On top of the muted purple, it has a flat collar around her neck. The top half of her dress fits her tightly, and it tapers out at the waist until it hits her knees. It's plain and modest, yet so beautiful on her. "You look even better, Iris."
She giggles in response then runs out the door and down the stairs. At some point during that motion, I hear a thud and an "I'm okay!" I laugh slightly at that, then go back to the bed to put on the grey shoes Mom laid out for me. I see a paper sticking out from under my pillow. I pull it out and see its a folded note with my name on the front.
As I open it, something falls out. I pick up the small object and see what it is. It's mother's Mockingjay pin.
It's dirtier than it used to be and even has some scratches on it. If a Peacekeeper were to see this pin, I'd be arrested and publicly beat. I open the note that it fell out of.
Dear Willow,
As you know, this pin was given to me by a good friend. You should consider giving it to Iris. To protect her.
Love, Mom.
I spend a few moments looking at the pin, a symbol of the temporary freedom given to Panem. This same pin almost destroyed my Mom's entire world, why would she give it to me? I bury it in my pocket and go downstairs so Mom can do my hair. I see that Iris's hair has already been done in one braid laid on her shoulder. My Dad and Rye aren't in sight, so I guess they're still getting ready.
"Willow, let's do your hair now," Mom says. She's already dressed and cleaned up. She's wearing a light blue flowy dress that goes down to her knees with matching shoes. Her hair is up in a braided bun like it usually is during this day of the year. She plasters a smile on her face, undoubtedly for Iris's sake, but behind it, I can see all her pain. I can see it partially because I know her so well, and also because I know all she's been through.
Iris barely knows about the past Hunger Games, and Rye knows only a little less than I do. Mom tells us that Iris is just too fragile right now, that we should let her live in her magical imaginary world instead of the one the rest of us grew up in; Reality. She knows about the games, we couldn't avoid that, but Mom and Dad haven't told her about everything else. Why our family has a constant threat hanging over us, why we can't sing to the Mockingjay's, and why our parents are both respected and hated through all of Panem.
I sit cross-legged in front of the chair my Mom sits in. She starts by brushing my hair with a broader comb that she made, then puts some hair oil from the Capitol in it, making my wavy hair look more put together. "There," she says, showing the small handheld mirror in front of my face. "That's all you need."
I look nearly the same, yet so much different. Maybe it's my hair or the dress. Or, it's because I haven't looked into a mirror in so long. "You look beautiful, Willow," She compliments me. "Thank you, Mom," I say. Iris is nearly speechless and can only say, "Wow!"
"Thank you, Iris," I say while laughing a bit. She may be stuck in her own world most of the time, but she does bring light into ours. Dad and Rye make their way downstairs, and into the living area.
"Are we all ready?" Dad asks. Ready? Who could ever be ready for the Reaping? I can tell Dad is trying his best to keep all of us calm, especially Mom and Iris, by attempting to make this like a typical outing. I nod in response to his question. Iris runs up to him and wraps her arms around his waist. "Daddy, I'm scared."
"I know," He comforts her. "We all get scared." I've been eligible for four years now, and it still manages to frighten me. "Iris," I approach her as I remember the pin. "I have something to give you."
I wrap my hand around the Mockingjay pin in my pocket. "Here," I say, pulling the pin out. "To protect you." I hand it to her and place it in her hands. "That's Momma's, I can't take it," She argues. "Well, now it's yours. Put it in your pocket, so no one sees." She shoves it deep in her pocket. Then, the first horn blares through the District signaling we need to start heading out for the Reaping.
Iris runs towards Dad and wraps her arms around him again. He kneels down to her level so he can comfort her better. "C'mon, we need to go," Rye says, going towards the door. "You're going to be okay, Iris," Dad says as he lets go of her. "No! Don't let me go please," Iris pleads as Dad lets go. He picks her up, and we all head out the door. As we leave, the second horn goes off, signaling everyone should be outside by now. We walk towards the Justice Building with the rest of the District.
It's a slow walk, quickened slightly by the Peacekeepers behind the large group. It only takes us minutes to get to the roped-off sections in front of the Justice Building, where we're separated by age and gender. "Alright, Iris," Dad says. "I have to put you down now, but we'll see you right after."
He sets her down, which earns an automatic cry from Iris. "Iris, it's going to be okay, you're going to be okay. Just stay with Willow and Rye until you have to go to your section, and you'll be fine." Mom explains to her. Iris clings to my side as Mom and Dad start to walk away. "We love you. We'll see you right after." Dad says before getting washed away in the large group of parents walking to their section.
The three of us get signed in, then head to our designated sections. I file myself in with the other 16-year-old girls, and I see Rye has done the same with the 15-year-old boys. The oldest kids are sectioned off in the front, and the youngest, like Iris, are in the back. Parents of the children surround the massive square of us, and other adults stand in the very back.
Some of them place bets on who will be reaped (I imagine my name is always part of the gamble), and others mourn for the child who is Reaped. I spot my parents in the front. Dad is standing behind Mom with his arms wrapped around her front, so I can only see his back. They're still respected throughout some of the Districts, mainly 12, for their sacrifice. We learn about them in school, as well as the entirety of the second rebellion, but it's all washed over with Capitol propaganda versus what actually happened.
The loud voice of twelve's escort, Safa Sinclair, interrupts my thoughts. "Welcome! Welcome, everyone! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor…" She yells ecstatically.
This year, she sports a long, curly light blue wig with matching makeup. Her dress and shoes also match the hair. "Now, before we begin, we have an extraordinary film brought to you all the way from the Capitol!" She announces. The fanfare plays, and the giant screen above the building lights up with the Capitol symbol.
"War, terrible war." President Rose's sharp voice booms over the footage. "Widows, orphans, a motherless child. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. They temporarily defeated us, but we brought them into place once again as the great Capitol we are. We swore to never see such division and destruction again. And so it was decreed that each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute, one young man and woman, to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage, and sacrifice. The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our forgiveness. This is how we remember our past. This is how we keep our future intact."
The fanfare cuts out, and the footage stops. I chuckle to myself, knowing President Rose just copied what President Snow had said. "I just love that!" Safa says with a wide smile. She takes a moment to smile brightly at the cameras before continuing. "Now, the time has come for us to select one young man and woman for the honor of representing District 12 in the 14th annual Hunger Games," Safa says. From what my Mom says, they don't like to acknowledge the 75 Hunger Games before the revolution.
"As always, ladies first." She says. She slowly walks towards the giant glass ball filled with folded papers, four of which have my name, and one with Iris's name. She slowly, tediously, reaches around the bowl to grab a paper. Finally, she gets a hold of one of them and walks brightly towards the microphone again. She opens up the folded paper. I find myself thinking what every other girl is thinking at this moment.
Please don't be me. Please don't be me.
It's selfish, but it's true.
She calls out the name. I freeze in place.
"Iris Mellark!"