A.N. - I'm so sorry it took so long for me to update. I had this ready but I needed to edit and find the time. Now that I have a new job I had the time. It's a very long chapter. (I added) Just for your patience. Again I apologize. But I do want to thank all of you who put me on alerts or favorites and EVERYONE who reviewed. You mean so much to me. The support is fantastic. So without further ado;
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything. If I did, it all would have ended differently.
As they opened the cafeteria doors and lead us down the hall and into the auditorium I wondered how many of them there were. Did they do the same thing to everyone in the school, scare them into the gym? Or were we the only group they had payed attention to so far? What could they want with us? We're a group of teenagers, none of us really have any money. I mean sure a few of them had enough to be comfortable for life. But four grown adults? What could they want with the little money they would gather from the few families with money? Were there more of these people? That would make the money less likely. I was trying to figure all of this out as they shove us into the largest room of the school. I look around. Yes, there were already groups of people in here. Another long line being brought into the other entrance confirmed it. Everyone was here, there were even more of the, what do I call them, shooters? They haven't really shot anyone. Have they?
My heartbeat begins to beat faster as I delve my brain into that possibility. I look around trying to lay eyes on my little sister. Seeing her blonde head a few rows of people ahead of me I will her, as loud as possible in my mind, to look over at me. A few minutes later, she looks around and catches my eye. My heartbeat slows back to a controlled pace seeing her blue eyes, the ones that keep me going, looking back at me. I mouth to her asking if she's okay. Her eyes are wide in fear, but she nods and I nod back. Her gaze whips from mine a little later when there's a tapping of sound coming from the front of the room. I see her look up at it and I sigh, directing my attention to the sound as well.
The same disturbing voice from earlier, was coming through the stereo system from the platform at the front of the auditorium where a microphone was set up, my hunting skills kicked in again quickly as I assessed my surroundings, I noticed 2 bowls on tables beside him. Looking around cautiously I find there are at least 7 other 'Guns' standing around the border of the room. There are 2 more up on either side of the 'stage' that was the setup they fashioned. So far, that meant 10. Ten gunmen, surrounding the kids of my school. They certainly had a mission, they were serious and I couldn't even think of a possible way to take them all down without a significant amount of these children getting hurt and/or killed. So I, pretty un willingly, dropped my defenses and listened to the man in front.
"I'm going to make this as simple as possible for you." He announced. I scoffed silently. Yeah, simple wouldn't have required this many people with heavy artillery. "I've gathered you all here today to select 2 people. One girl and one boy as a matter of fact." There were murmurs and I heard a girl in the distance whimper. "The two selected will come with us. To where we've set up a nice little facility." He gestured to the other gunmen he had surrounding us. The students around me began to whisper to each other, looking around in fear. This was sounding like all kinds of bad.
"You might be wondering why!" People stopped conversing their worries to each other and turned to look up at him as he made another threatening gesture with his gun. "Well that doesn't particularly matter." He spat. "You're all going to cooperate or I'm going to start shooting." We heard the guns around the room, cock in anticipation. My blood-flow stopped a beat in waiting.
I gulped and found Gale in the crowd. He looked over at me, pain in his eyes. We both knew there was nothing to do. His siblings were scattered around the room and my sister was somewhere in the middle of it. They were our only concern and if they started to shoot, our only hope would be to dive for them. Though we discussed death once... we both decided a bullet to the head would be the best way to go. I believe we both now regretted settling on that. A small smile turned up one corner of my mouth, looking away from him and down at my shoes.
"Now, since you're all so curious..." The man trailed off. And regretfully I looked back up at the man through a angered brow. "I'll ease a bit of your muttering." The silence in this room filled with beating hearts and breathing lungs was deafening. "What's going to happen once we pick our 2 tributes? Well you'll have a few minutes to say goodbye and then you join my men and I on a train." It was possible I would get sick all over my shoes. He sounded in glee and I couldn't stop the shiver that went through my body. "Once there, we begin to prepare you for our Games." The man took the mic and began to pace the stage. "See, we know you all have been suffering since the tragic events of your city. We're willing to help you out. See, there are about a dozen events that have happened in these last few years that have concerned my boss. He's a generous man. He wants to give you security." He stopped at the side edge to the stage. "So here's an opportunity. Who doesn't like games?" He began to pace again. "One of you will win. One of you will become the richest in town." The muttering began in the crowd again and he practically jumped in joy with a skip on the stage. "You'll return home to your winnings and never, ever, have to suffer again." Returning to the middle of the platform, the man placed the mic on the stand again. "Now are we ready to begin?"
I couldn't explain the feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something about all of this wasn't right. Well beside the obvious of taking us captive, seeming to be all around bad people and not to mention the heavy weapons pointed in the direction of children. But if I went over the speech in my head I filled in the blanks. One of you will return home. Meaning... what? What happens to the other people in these 'Games'? My tongue felt like a ten pound weight in my mouth.
"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" The man announces happily. Hunger games? Sounds about right. "Now, when I call your name, head to the stage." He demands this in amusement. "Ladies First." He walks over to one of the bowls. His gloved hand spins around in the glass, around the slips and I only have a second to wish it's not me, that more importantly it isn't Prim. And he lifts a slip of paper from the bowl. "Primrose Everdeen!"
I feel every ounce of breath leave my body. My limbs go weak and heavy. I see her through the crowd as her head snaps around to look at me, terror in her eyes. I can't move. I watch as the kids make a clearing for her to walk up to the stage. She turns her gaze from me and makes small steps foward to the stage. That's when one of the gunmen on the sides of the stage start to walk towards her. That is when it hits me. The severity of this situation. What these people might be like, what they could do. Prim was 12 years old. I always did everything I could to protect her. She was so innocent and pure. I intended on keeping it that way. Any time she was hurt, emotionally or physically, there's a feeling that goes through me that I cannot explain. So I do what I must.
"Prim!" I cry out and before I realize what I'm doing I push through the crowd. The students soon recognize what I'm doing and make a path for me as well. Though it didn't much matter as I pushed through and jumped over those in my way. Just as she's about to reach the steps to the stage I grab her, pull her back and push her behind me. "I volunteer!" I gasp out. "I volunteer..." I whisper again choking back my emotions.
There's some confusion as the man on the stage looks down at us. The gunman beside me takes a hold of my arm and I gulp down my fear. I will save my sister from this. "Oh." The leader responds. "Wonderful." The pleasure the leader seems to be getting from this is really grotesque. Turning to the gunman, he nods. "Let her come forward." Gunny, steps away from me.
That's when I notice Prim screaming hysterically behind me. "No Kat!" Wrapped around me like a vice, her arms would be crushing my ribs if she were stronger. "No! Don't go!"
"Prim..." I whisper down to her. This isn't helping. I'm trying to save my little sister and she's doing her best to save me. I adore this girl with everything, she was probably the only person I've ever known I truly would do anything in the world possible for in the blink of an eye. She was as protective of me as I was of her and I didn't know it until this instant. My eyes were stinging and threatening to tear. So I gripped her shoulders and pushed. "Prim! Let go!"
I feel someone start to pull her away and I turn, ready if it's the gunman to strike, to see Gale pulling her away from me. I watch as he wraps his arms around my baby sister while she thrashes against him. He makes eye contact with me. "Up you go, Catnip." I can tell his voice is unsteady as he tells me to go. I watch when he turns and drags my sister off into the crowd. Closing my eyes, I steel myself and take the stairs.
"Well now, what's your name?" Asks the man as I approach him. He holds the mic to my face and I stare him down.
"Katniss Everdeen." I hear my voice strong and threatening carry through the room and I'm glad, glad my emotions were locked down behind my determination.
He chuckles. Taking the mic back. "Hmm, Oh I bet that little one was your sister. Can't let her steal the glory. Looks like we have a hero complex." I want to punch him as he puts his arm around me and leads me over to the other side of the stage. "Come now, let's have some applause for our first tribute." He asks as he walks back to the center. Not one person claps. Not a sound is heard from the building. I thank whatever strength in humanity it was that caused these people to stay silent. The man just shrugs. "Alright then."
Suddenly, something unexpected happens. First one, then another until half the auditorium and then the whole room; place their three middle fingers to their lips and then hold them into the air to me. A symbol in our town that means thanks, admiration, good-bye, to one you love. I bow my head, looking down at my shoes. I'm now in true danger of crying. The last thing I want is for these monsters to think I'm weak. They don't know what this means to us. But my whole school just rebelled against these armored bullies.
"Now, for a boy." He narrates. Walking to the other glass bowl, and pulling out another slip of paper. Just like the one that started my fight to save my sister.
Clearing his throat.
I wish for it not to read Gale. Anyone but Gale. I need not only his safety, but now my families safety as well, knowing my mother won't be able to hold it together. When I hear the name. "Peeta Mellark."
Oh no, I think. Not him. Because I recognize the name. Even though I've neve spoken to it's owner.
My body might well give out from all the times my heart has stopped so far today. Taking a silent deep breath I again steel my emotions.
What was it the man had said earlier? May the odds be in your favor? Well today, they were everything but.
Looking out in the crowd, I watch as he makes his way to the stage. Stocky build, medium height, ash blonde curly hair that falls against his forehead. This event is only just registering on his face. I can read his emotions. He's trying to hide them, but he's being unsuccessful for the moment. Fear. Alarm. The look I catch in the eye of my prey as I'm about to shoot it. He climbs the stage and his worry stricken face catches mine a moment as I'm frozen to my side of the stage while he takes his place opposite me.
The Man, Leader, Captor, Psycho, man who I was mentally putting arrows through his head, started to talk to the kids of our school going off on another speech maybe a lecture. About what, I don't know because my mind went off on its own direction. I looked at the blonde sharing the stage with me, out of the corner of my eye. My fingers found each other, they started picking and winding trying to distract my thoughts. They weren't succeeding.
Why in the name of any power, higher or not, did they have to pick him? Not that I was particularly concerned about this boy. No, I didn't even know him. We weren't friends, neighbors, or really even acquaintances. We had a handful of classes together, sure but that was the extent of our relationship. Well except for that encounter that's tearing at me so much. I swallow the lump in my throat at the memory.
It was the worst time I could ever remember ever going through in my life. Around 3 months after my Father's death;
The money was gone. The year salary they gave us to cover our grieving period was used for his funeral, the debt we owed on the house, other bills and 2 months of groceries. It turns out my father was doing more for side money and that he had stopped paying some bills in order to keep food on the table. When he was gone, there were notices and visits from companies that required the debt be paid off. No one it seemed understood that we were in no way concerned about the debt of the family member we had just lost, only they were, and they didn't respond well to being ignored. When they began to approach a seven year old Prim I gave them their money and demanded they disappear.
I was a mere Eleven years old when the tragedy occurred. My whole world was turned upside down and left with no gravity, it seemed. The loss of a parent was like the loss of a limb. Like knowing you need to breathe but being unable to take in oxygen. For my Mother it so happened, was worse. As a mere child, I lost not only my Father to a mine explosion, but my Mother as well, to the depression over the loss of her husband. She lost her job at the Hospital because she couldn't find it in herself to get out of bed in the morning. She lost a dangerous amount of weight because she no longer could stand the sight of food. Even her voice, was lost somewhere in the walls, I'm guessing after her throat could handle no more cries and sobs. No I didn't hear her talk in well over a month by now. Try as the little Prim had, in talking her out of her depression, begging and crying some days at our Mother's knees for her to come back. A sight I still remember a still sickens my heart.
I did my best to keep Prim and myself going. I did her hair and dressed her every morning. We walked to school together and I tried to keep her fed as well as I could. I knew that if they saw how broken everything was behind our closed doors, they would take us away. My Mother would go to a hospital and they would take Prim and I to a state home. I've seen the kids that lived in those places. Their forward shoulders, bruised skin and broken eyes. I would never let Prim be one of those children. So I stepped up as the provider, the parent, the guardian. I made the decision that I was the only one that could do it. I was the only glue left holding what was left of my family together.
On the day of my encounter with Peeta Mellark, I had been in the towns 'Cotton Exchange' trying to trade some of Prim's baby clothes. But lets face it. They had been my baby clothes before her and by now, they were barely hanging on. There were no takers at the Public Exchange. I could have probably traded for something at 'The Market' which I had been to with my Father a few times, but I was to scared to approach that side of town, alone, at my age.
It was probably the coldest month of the year. There was a breeze that was blowing through my hair and my Father's hunting jacket. The rain that had been coming down in icy sheets had soaked through them both. I was shaking so bad I'm sure by now it was the only thing that kept me moving.
Dragging my feet down Merchants Row, which housed the shops in town that sold to the wealthiest people in the area. Business owners had their homes above them. So as I sloshed through the muddy lane behind them I was walking through their backyards. There were outlined garden beds yet to be planted, animals in pens and a soaked, dejected dog tied to a post.
Stealing was illegal here just as it was in any other town. Punishable by law. But when I looked over and saw the trash receptacles along the buildings, it crossed my mind that there might just be something in those bins that I could use. We could use. Like a bone from a butcher, a rotting vegetable from a farmer... anything. Anything that no one was desperate enough to want but us. We'd been having boiling water with a few mint leaves Prim had found in the back of a drawer for the past few nights and I don't know if I could do it again tonight. I couldn't walk through the door and see my Mothers dark, dead eyes, or Prim with her cracked lips and hollow cheeks, looking up at me with hope and having nothing to show.
The mud beneath my feet felt as though it was holding onto my boots tighter and tighter with every step I stumbled into. The cold rain that had soaked me through was causing me to shake so bad that I dropped my little sisters clothes into a puddle. Looking down at the soaking clothes pathetically I considered bending down to pick it up, but realized I might fall over and never get up again. How useful would it be anyway? Obviously they were unwanted by anyone within walking distance. If I couldn't sell them, they were as good to me right were they were now as they were anywhere else. Hugging my Father's hunting jacket against my chest tighter, I turned and shuffled further into the back ally of Merchant's Row.
Suddenly, I was hit with the scent of Freshly Baked bread. Looking up from concentrating on my feet leading me home, I saw that I was just about behind the Bakery. The smell of the bread, was one that calmed my nerves and lifted the corners of my mouth. The warm glow of the ovens in the back of their store lit the back yard and my frozen cheeks. Right now, it was warming my face and activating my gusto. Licking my chapped lips I started towards the back of their building. Their dumpster was right in front of me, I reached over, lifted the lid and peeked inside. Of course, my luck, they had just been emptied. Not even a hint of cracker nor paper.
There was a loud bang and not a pained sound from myself as instantly the lid to the dumpster was slammed onto my hand. I pulled it back protectively, holding it against my chest with my other hand. That's when I saw Mrs. Mellark standing up on the back porch, scowling down at me. Her voice was shrill as she started to yell at me that I needed to leave her property and how tired she was of the 'damn coal brats' that came 'lurking and begging for food', she asked me if I wanted her to call the Authorities. The words stung me, but not as much as the hand she had dropped the lid on. I backed away from her slowly and that's when Mrs. Mellark turned. I thought she was going back inside, I watched, wanting the ovens glow to warm me a little more for my walk home. Though when the baker's wife turned back around, I had no time to react before the water hit me. Ice water it seemed, colder than the rain, she was spraying me with from the hose. Like I was some street animal. Ducking my face and turning, she yelled some profanities at me and I only peeked back when she stopped.
That's when I saw a blond boy, peeking at me himself from behind her. She dropped the hose and sighed in frustration. I recognized him, from school. I didn't know his name, he hung out with his own class of money, so how would I. But the way he looked at me just now, I bowed, hiding my face and walked away. Hugging my now completely soaked through jacket tight. It didn't help. Once I left the oven's warmth, I could feel the weather. It's fingers of death on my neck and I only made it behind one of The Mellark's trees before I collapsed at the base of it. My legs had finally given out and so had my will.
Why me? I thought. Why us? Prim didn't deserve this. Why was my Father gone, and what were we to do now? We had nothing.
Go ahead. I thought of Mrs. Mellark's threat. Hose me down. Wash the 'damn coal' off me. Call the Authorities. Let them take us away to The State Home. At least there would be food.
No, better yet. I thought. Let me die right here in the mud.
I heard it. A loud clanging noise from the bakery. Whipping my head to look at the back of the store, I wondered. Then, there was a sound I will never forget. It sounded like a twig snapping from its tree. Placing my back to the tree I was perched against, I listened while hurried, clumsy feet headed down the steps and in my direction. Oh, she's coming to finish me off herself, I winced. But then she was screaming from inside.
"Go ahead! Feed it to the Pig! You stupid, useless creature! No one decent will buy burnt bread anyway!" Her voice screeched and the door slammed shut.
Turning my head I saw the blond boy, about 6 yards from me, facing the pigs pen, holding two loafs of bread. They were completely fine except for the few burnt spots on the end, where they must have dropped into the fire. He was standing there, not looking at me, (I know he could clearly see me) tearing burnt pieces off the bread and tossing them into the trough. Looking at his face, I noticed the red welt on the side of his face. That's when I realized, she had struck him. He dropped the bread into the fire and his mother struck him because of it, so hard that I could hear the crack outside.
My hand went to my mouth at the thought. My parents had never raised a hand to us, they'd never hit us. They showed us unconditional love. Even the time when I knocked down my Mothers favorite dish. The one she brought with her good money, from her old life, when she married my Dad. A very expensive dish, shattered. I cried and all she did was gather up the pieces and then hold me and tell me it was no big fuss. Hearing a bell ring, which I realized was from the front of the bakery, signaling a customer, I saw the boy pause. Look down at the bread, then back at the trough and (never looking at me once) he tossed one loaf at my feet followed not long by the other, before he took off for the back of the store.
Staring, confused, down at the bread, I wondered if he meant the bread for me. Did he really drop the bread into the flames to burn them just so he could give them to me? He got hit, risked maybe being caught by sneaking them to me and maybe possibly receive another strike. I couldn't even fathom why a boy I don't know would do such a thing. Though before I could give it too much thought, I gathered the loaves into my hands, shoved them into my coat and held them against my chest as I took off for home. The heat of the fresh bread burned at my skin, though I didn't care.
By the time I reached the house, they'd cooled down but were still warm on the inside. Prim, waiting for me at the door, practically tore into them as I walked in the house. I stopped her, made her wash up for supper and helped my mom to the table. We sat, cut pieces of bread and ate one entire loaf that night. We might have eaten the other if I hadn't saved it.
Sleeping soundly that night, the smell of bread still at my nose. Prim fast asleep, not asking for food. I was okay. And the next morning, we had a piece of bread before school. Prim skipped for the first time in a week. I saw the boy in school that day, his face was blue and purple. He was talking with his friends as though nothing had happened. When I picked my sister up from class that afternoon, I glanced at the crowd. Finding his face staring back at me I turned my gaze down and that's when I saw it. The first dandelion of spring. The sign of hope. I remembered lessons from my Father in the woods and I suddenly realized we were no longer doomed.
To this day I cannot shake the connection with The Boy With The Bread and hope. The connection that brought my family life again.
He probably wouldn't even remember it. But I owe that boy more than I could ever imagine. I hated owing anyone, anything. I probably should have thanked him. Just walked up to him the next day, said 'Thank you for what you did.' and then walked away. It would have been the right thing to do. Then at the least, right now I wouldn't feel so bad about it. About him being the one standing on this stage next to me being forced into who knows what, against our will.
The lead man had stopped talking. Instead, now, he was staring directly at me. I cleared my throat, and my distracted, rambling mind, while I straightened and faced him. He smiled at me. A controlling, evil smile. Then turned to The Baker's son and motioned for us to come together. I furrowed my brow in confusion towards the leader, but when Peeta was in front of me, I faced him instead. He took my hand and they felt as solid and warm as the loaves of bread I had received from him that day. His blue eyes were piercing mine as he gave my hand a gentle squeeze. I pulled my lips between my teeth and followed him as he pulled me down the stage.
Weather the squeeze was supposed to be reassuring or just a spasm I didn't know. All I know is his hand was something I could grip onto for the moment, something almost familiar while we were lead into the gym locker rooms by the gunmen.
The Baker's son was pulled off in the direction of the boys locker room and I was pushed into the girls.
Sitting there, against the white tiled wall I stared down at my hands. They were shaking. That was rare for me. I usually always had control over myself. Over whatever situation I was in. But this. This was an entirely different scenario. I had no idea what they were going to do to us. Where this was going. All I knew, was they said they were bringing in people to say goodbye. I could trust that right? I mean so far they haven't lied to us. Everything they've said has been true. 'Follow what they say and no one gets hurt.' I needed to believe that. Because right now, I had no way to defend myself. There was no way out of here other than the door that was guarded by gunmen. I put my head in my hands and waited. What else could I do? The rage, fear, self-preservation and 'hero complex' bubbling inside of me right now were making me feel entirely useless.
The door to the locker room opens harshly and I see Prim run into the room towards me. I reach out, gather her in my arms and she curls up on my lap, her arms around my neck as she rests her head on my shoulder. Just like when she was a toddler. I sighed and rested my cheek against the top of her head. We're both quiet for a minute. That's when I hear her sniffle. I pick up my head and look down at her swollen eyes. I take a deep breath, then I begin to explain what she's going to need to do. The things she'll need to take care of now that I'm not there to do everything for them.
How she'll need to sell cheese and milk from her goat. How she'll need to make sure Mom takes more healing jobs, she's skilled in healing and apothecary work. That's what she did before our Father even met her, what her parents did, my Mothers real trade. It made enough money that they could survive on if she started to take more jobs. It might even be good for her to help people. It might help her through healing herself. Prim nods in understanding at everything that I'm saying.
I reach down and carefully wipe the tears from Prim's cheeks. "Listen, Mom's going to find out what happened. It's going to mess her up. I need you to keep her calm. Talk to her. Make her take walks. Okay? Maybe ask her to help you with Lady every so often to distract her."
"I'll make sure." Her little voice is shaky and I smile down at her reassuringly, squeezing her shoulder softly.
"Good. And Prim..." I trail off and start rubbing her back. "Whatever you see, or hear about, these people doing, us doing... you need to keep fighting through. You need to take care of yourself." I don't know if our mother will be able to. I know Prim is a strong little girl. She could do it. I have faith in her.
She grabs my face in her little hands and makes me look her in the eye. "I'll be alright, Katniss." She says. "But you have to take care too. Okay?" I find myself nodding along, her hot hands on my cheeks. "You're strong and smart. Maybe you can win."
Her faith in me is hard to take. I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. "Then we'd be rich."
Whipping her head back and forth she shakes her head. "I don't care about that. You just have to come home."
I feel the stinging in my throat getting tighter and stronger and I swallow painfully tilting my head in her small hands. Suddenly she's the parent, the guardian, the one keeping me sane, taking care of me and my emotions. She's making sure I'm okay and I feel my heart swell again at the thought of how she's handling this. I'm so proud and so worried at the same time of this little innocent girl sitting in my lap staring back at me with love and concern.
"You will do your best to come home. Promise me you'll try your hardest. Promise me." She demanded. Her bright blue eyes were stern and begging. So I nodded.
"I promise." We were locked in a tight embrace again. For how long, I don't know. But before I know it, they're pulling us apart and Prim is screaming at me to keep my promise. All I can hear is her cries and myself saying "I love you. I love you both." Until the doors shut on front of the image of her flailing body reaching for me.
I turn and bury my face against the cold tile wall and try to slow down my breathing.
Someone comes into the room and I stop mid-deep breath and turn to see Farl. A senior of our High School. He also, just so happens to be Peeta's older brother. As I watch him walk through the room and sit down on the bench across from me I'm just now wondering why hadn't he protected his younger brother like I had Prim? Why hadn't he stood up and taken the blow in stead? I stared through him, I realized, wondering all the while if he felt guilty for not protecting his family. His blood. That's what a family is, a support system. You're supposed to be there for each other when no one else will be. You're all they have left when everyone else leaves and here he was, sitting there. Safe. I couldn't help but feel partially disgusted.
Then I remembered he was here and I didn't know why. He and I didn't really know each other, why would he say good bye to me? He must have already been with Peeta, because his shoulders were sitting heavy on his body and his hair was disheveled like his hands had been through it many times. I sighed and tilted my head, still staring. He did know my sister. She traded her cheese and milk from Lady with his father and the boys often. When we knew that the witch of 'Mrs. Mellark' wouldn't be around to yell at her. But again, why is he here?
That's when he pulls a bag out of his hoodie and hands it to me. Cookies. Probably from the bakery, because they look much better than the chalky cookies they serve here in the school. I look back up at Farl. "Thank you." He doesn't seem too talkative, much like all of the Mellark boys, they've never been much for words. The witch probably struck them if they talked. I couldn't imagine living with such a violent mother. "I had some of your bread this morning." I say, placing the bag of cookies in my jacket pocket. He only nods. "My friend Gale gave you a squirrel for it." He looks back up at me as if remembering. "Not your best trade." I joke. He shrugs, I place my hands in my lap and since I cannot think of anything more, we sit in silence.
That is until the guard opens the door to take him. He rises, clears his throat and looks at me directly, the first time since he walked in the doors. "I'll keep an eye on Prim. Make sure she's okay."
Some pressure it seems is lifted as he walked out with the guard. I'm not too well liked in our town, but no one turned Prim away. Maybe Prim's kindness and inviting personality will keep her and my mother safe while I'm gone. The door opens, cautiously, I look on again, wondering who it would be this time. Another unexpected visitor happens upon me when Madge peeks her head in and then walks towards me.
I stand when she reaches me. Her tone is strong and her face isn't red or stained with tears and this surprises me. "They are letting you take one thing from here. One thing to remind you of us. Will you wear this?" She holds out a circular gold pin that I've seen her wear on her dresses before. I had never paid much attention to it, though I now see it has a small bird in flight, with it's wings resting on the edges of the ring.
"Your pin?" I ask in confusing.
"Here, I'll put it on, all right?" Madge doesn't wait. Next thing I know, she's got a hold of the collar of my jacket and she's pinning the bird to my clothes. "Promise you'll wear this always, Katniss?" Her doe eyes look up at me when she steps back from closing the pin on me.
I nod. "Yes." Cookies, a Pin, My sister's wanting protection. I feel as though I'm being smothered with gifts. When Madge kisses me on the cheek and then hurriedly walks out of the locker room I don't know what to think any more.
When Finally Gale walks in. Like I had said, there was never anything romantic between us. Though when he opened his arms I didn't hesitate, I ran into them, wrapped my arms around his waist, placed my head on his chest and I, for a moment, felt safe. I had known this man for 5 years. I knew everything about him. From the way he walked the smell of wood smoke to the steady rhythm of his heart beat. And something this familiar was what I needed to stay calm for the time being.
"I can't get us out of this." He said quietly above my head. He wasn't part of this. He wasn't picked to go with these people. Still, I knew what he ment. He didn't know how to stop these men. He had been trying to figure out a way to take them down, or get everyone out, just like I had. All I did was nod against his chest. I felt him take a deep breath. I knew what was coming. "You can do this."
I pulled back and pushed against his chest. He looked down at me confused. "You need to take care of them."
"They're just looking for a good show, Katnip." I pulled my hands together, and then looking at my feet, I shoved them into my pockets.
"Prim will need to sell her Milk and Cheese. Take her to the market with you." I turned around and walked back over to the seat I had left a few minutes ago. "My Mother..." I trailed off. Turning around and sitting on the bench again. Placing my head in my hands. "She'll need a lot of taking after. I don't know..."
That's when I felt him directly in front of me. "Katniss, just think of it as Hunting. You're the best hunter I know." He's gripped my shoulders now, making me look up at him. "You can do this."
"But they're armed they think. I don't even know what they're going to make us do." I become panicked with him looking into me.
"You've had practice. Real practice, if you can just get a bow, or... you're so smart with this. They're not prepared for a hunter Catnip."
"But they're people. What if they make me kill the others Gale?" I ask up at him terrified. The guards are in the doorway all too soon.
Gale asks them for more time but they refuse, suddenly they're pulling at him like they pulled away Prim and I find myself yelling again. "Don't let them starve!"
"I won't! You know I won't! Katniss, remember I - " and the door slams shut in front of him. I don't know what he was going to say. I'll never know what he wanted me to remember. So my body slumps back onto the Locker room bench and I let my head fall back against the tiled wall.
It isn't too long before the guards are collecting me. I see Peeta ahead of me as I'm herded towards the back entrance of the school. He's waiting against the door, his hands wringing in front of him, eyes turned down. When I approach, I silently stand next to him. Waiting. I don't know what we're waiting for until I see the leader, head gunman, walk towards us and push the doors open. We're pushed out into the sunlight, which blinds me for a moment, causing me to squint one eye shut to see, following the captors out to a big black SUV. They load Peeta and I in the back and lock the doors. We sit away from each other in the back of the vehicle, silence our weapon. We don't know anything and I'm sure he's more frightened than I am. I could tell he had been crying, his downward turned face, his defense. I'm silently hugging my knees in my corner during the bumpy ride. I've given up on trying to think my way out of the situation. We're pretty well trapped. There is literally nothing I can do and for now I accept that.
When they unload us from the car I see we're parked in an abandoned lot. Looking around, on instinct, I try to figure out where we are, but my captor has my attention with a swift smack up side my head. I shoot him a dirty look as I refrain myself from striking back. "We have tickets for you to board the train. If you make any kind of move, sound or attempt to get away..." He trailed off and I looked down to see a small hand gun in his hand, which he tucked into his pocket. All of my defenses just gave away at this point. Fuck it, I'll do what you want, just... don't kill me.
A.N.- I might have drug that out a bit. I just got into details and certain parts of the story. I'm sorry if that is displeasing for some of you. As always. Review PLEASE. All kinds of reviews help me make the story better for you. 3 Oh, and I totally didn't plan to update on the Premiere night. That's just a bonus. LOVE A.