Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. Nobody but Susanne Collins does.
Hiya! Two chapters after this. Yay! I think I'm going to finish posting the story today.
The twenty-third Hunger Games just ended. The arena was a plateau. There were some very bloody falls during the night. But twenty-three games have passed since the start. Only one more game until the Quell. I already knew that that was going to end disastrous.
It was hard at mentoring first; Nocturne and Korren were just the first of a very long line. I had to advise people that were older then myself, which was frustrating. We haven't had another Victor since I had won. No one blamed me though. I didn't haveany control over it, and they knew that I tried to keep them alive.
The others just were better. The twelfth Hunger Games victory had belonged to Mags, no surprise there. She became one of my friends when I was forced to go to the Capitol each year to supervise new tributes. At least she wasn't as bad as some of the other Career Victors. Victors didn't hate each other; they just had different views. The most disagreeable views came from the Careers.
Quill and I are still friends. Quill is married to Innova. Figures. Innova hated me at first; she blamed me for the death of her sister. Over time she seemed to lighten up in my presence, but she struggles to do so. I try not to care, Quill loves her and I don't want to hurt him. I haven't married anyone and don't intend to. My father is still in the same home as me, he has seemed to be preoccupied lately, as if he was figuring out something that was impossible. I continue to get my pictures signed by the Victors as they pass by my home on their Victory Tours. I'm positive that the place isn't bugged. Yet.
I looked around my room. It was painted black, with silver stars all over, just like the night. On the walls were the pictures of all the Victors, in order by the year of their victory. I walked to my window, and brushed aside my black, silk curtain. The sky was clear, and the stars and moon were shining. I tried not to think back to the two children that just died. One didn't even make it past the first hour. The other didn't make it past the first week.
It was hard. You keep a hope that maybe one will come back. But that is just it. Only one can come back. I've tried not to choose favorites. After the first week if they had both lived, I would choose which to support. I'm not sure if it is good or bad, but that was a rare decision I had to make. I usually had one that would get a big head during the Cornucopia, like Korren.
I close my eyes, in attempt to make my memories slow down, and let out a breath. I drew my fingers though my thick, elbow length hair. I collect it with my hands and pull it into a ponytail.
I almost jump as I hear a soft knock on the door. Who would bother me this late? It can only be one person. "Come in." I call, my voice sounding tiered, and much older than it should have been.
My aging father walks through the door. He is in surprisingly good health for fifty-seven. His hair is all grayed, but he could be in a lot worse shape. He has a backpack slung over his shoulder, and is carrying a suitcase. I look at him with a raised eyebrow. "I'm leaving." Is all he says.
Panic fills me. I walk forward a little, then stop. He was thinking of something impossible. "Where to? I mean, where are you going to go, somewhere else in the district? And why? Did I do something wrong? What is in the bag?" Questions rushed though my head, like salmon through water, not pausing in between for answers. New ones came before the old ones had even left.
"You did nothing wrong, Glynn. You are doing everything perfectly. I'm leaving for a different reason. To prove something before I die. I'm going to a different district entirely. Food is in the bag. So is water, and clothes. I need it for my journey." I was confused, then again, who wouldn't?
"What district? And how do you propose to do that?" District travel wasn't allowed, accept on official business. Says the one and only all-important Mayle herself.
"District 13." He didn't answer how, but that didn't matter. The only question he did answer was one that brought up more questions. That didn't help; I was even more confused now. I was also starting to believe that my father was crazy.
"What? It was destroyed. By nuclear weapons. Like, BOOM! everyone-is-dead-or-dying-of-radiation nuclear weapons. Even if you get there, you will be killed by the toxic air." I wondered how I would talk sense into my father. I also wonder what gave him such an outlandish idea.
"I know it was destroyed. But I think it is rebuilding. And who made the nukes? District 13. They also have supplies to survive if something went wrong. I'll go there, and see what they are doing. See if I can assist. It might be the best place to reform the rebellion." I look at my dad mournfully. I couldn't change his mind. I wanted to go with him, make sure that harm didn't come. To take him back once he realized he was wrong.
"I would go with you, but…" I think to the Games. What would happen if I left? Would they get a new mentor, someone who didn't care, someone like Tybalt? I touch the mockingjayclip that was still in my hair. I hadn't taken it out, along with the butterfly, since my Games. They had almost become my lifeline. Memories that I couldn't live without.
"I know you can't go. You can't leave District 9 yet. Maybe sometime in the future, but for now you must stay and help those who need you. If there is ever a time to leave, you will figure it out." I didn't want my father to leave. He was the only family I had left. I didn't want to lose anyone else. I have had enough of that.
"How will I know if you are all right? How will I know if you made it to District 13?" I ask, panic growing ever more rapidly in my voice.
"I'll send something. Something that only you will know, and only you can figure out. I would never leave you unless it was absolutely necessary." This was absolutely necessary? Just for some random hope that there is something there? Maybe I'm being selfish, but this wasn't fair to me.
I try to make one more attempt to give him a reason to stay. "What if people ask me where you have gone to?"
"Tell no one. Not even Quill. Tell them I died of old age or something. No one can know that I am still alive, and looking for the Rebellion. No one can be allowed to know that District 13 lives. You are pretty good at being sad and moping around." I let out a weak laugh. "You can say you buried me in private. You didn't want others sympathy. Sounds like you, right?"
"How do you even know a Rebellion might be reforming in District 13?" As long as I was going along with his plan, I might as well find out what gave him the idea. Stall until I find reason for him to stay.
"That was where the base was at first, when the first rebellion was forming. It was the farthest district from the Capitol, so we decided to set up a base there way back when." Makes sense. Wait, what does he mean by we?
"What do you mean 'we'?" I say in a suspicious tone, my eyes squinting by habit.
"'We' as in the leaders of the rebellion. There was one in each district. My father was the one for 9. He was tortured then murdered for treason. Much like my brother. I would have taken my father's place had we not lost shortly after. So I just stayed hidden. It's time that I help to complete what we started. The Rebellion will never die. Not until its job is complete." Ok, you learn something new every day. Today I learned that my grandfather was a military leader during the Rebellion. That wasn't surprising at all. I also learn that my father is on the edge of being considered crazy.
"Why didn't you tell me?" My father looks at me like I'm a total and complete idiot. He looks at me like I looked at Tannor. "Oh, yeah, sorry. That really isn't the type of thing that you brag around to everyone. Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. I'm not twelve anymore."
"I know. Sorry. It's just that time seems to move so fast. It is hard to swallow the changes that have happened over the years." My father looks down sorrowful. Regret that he hadn't been able to make my life better.
"Why now? You could have gone back anytime. But why now?" Over the years, I have noticed something. I have an amazing talent at staling.
"The clips. There was a mockingjayin the corner of the screen when they showed the remains of the Town Hall of 13. If it lived, I'm sure that other creatures lived to. It is safe to go back now. And your clip. The one given to you by Tybalt. That is what gave me the idea to look at the tape. And I couldn't bring myself to leave you. But you are capable of taking care of yourself now." I took a deep breath. I couldn't argue with that logic.
"Ok. You can go. Even though I don't think you need my permission. I suppose it might just be me accepting that you're going to leave. I don't know how you are going to get there, but I figure that you have everything planned out. Don't forget to find a way to let me know that you have made it safely." My father smiled and hugged me.
"Thank you. I won't forget. I love you, Glynn." A tear fell from my eye. My father remained the master of showing little emotion. Little changes when so much does.
"I love you too, Dad." I release him from my embrace. "You have enough food?" He nods. "Good luck. I hope you find what you are looking for. If anyone can, it will be you."
"I will. It has been a pleasure knowing you. Keep up being perfect. Goodbye." With that he left. Unlike my mother and brother, I knew that I would never see him again. A sob choked me. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't say goodbye as well.
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The warm air in the brisk morning reminded me of the day that I was chosen for the Hunger Games. Except that the streets were flooded with people. I kept my head low, and gave a weary smile of acknowledge meant when people said hello. They didn't seem to think anything was wrong. Out of the corner of my eye I see a couple walking hand in hand towards me. Please, please don't notice me. Unfortunately, luck still isn't on my side.
"Glynn!" The taller of the two calls out. I slow to a stop. Quill and Innova walk to where I am standing. Joy spread onto their faces. I look, keeping my sad face. Quill seems to take no notice. "Glynn, Glynn, guess what." I look into the distance, towards the forest covered mountains. The sky was pink with sunrise, dancing of the trees, making them look like shadows.
"You learned how to climb a tree without looking like an idiot?" I ask without emotion, expecting a false anger reaction from Quill.
He and Innova laughed, and I looked at them puzzled. Quill's hand fell to Innova's stomach. No. No this can't be happening. "I'm pregnant." Chanted Innova in a joyful voice. Unaware of the danger that her child will be in. Innova leaned up and kissed Quill.
I try my best to shift my features away from terror, and back into sorrow. Innova withdrew from Quill, and they both starred at me, smiles etched on their faces. Quill's was the first to fade. "Glynn, what's wrong?" His voice was worry, and his question filled with concern.
"M-my dad. He slipped. Last night. Getting into the tub. He hit his head…and…and…" I broke into tears, and put my hands over my eyes. Quill and Innova moved over to me, embracing me in a hug, trying to comfort me. It was hard not to burst up laughing, one for the situation, and two for the fact that they were actually buying this. Then I remember the child. "I-I better go."
"Do you want us to hold a memorial?" Quill asked.
I shook my head. "I did it in private this morning. Before the sun rose. I didn't want sympathy." I say in the most pitiful voice I can find. Quill nods, grabs Innova's hand, and walks ever so slowly away. I bite my upper lip and walk away in the other direction.
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Three months havepassed. I told everyone that my dad had died by slipping in the bathroom as he got out of the tub, and hitting his head on the floor. Same story as I gave Quill and Innova. My father would probably have scorned me for making his death so embarrassing. I figured I might as well have some fun creating his death scenario. No one questioned it, or thought it the least bit suspicious. They understood what I was talking about when I said that I didn't want any sympathy.
I haven't heard from my father yet. I was starting to worry that he didn't make it. That he didn't find it. That there wasn't any District 13. Everything there was dead and he would be part of that mass. I kept looking for a sign though. Analyzing everything that happened. But everything that happened was ordinary, and could easily be explained. At points I wanted to, but I never did give up. I kept waiting.
On the night of the autumn equinox, I walked to the window. I did this every night, but something felt different. Looking through a window didn't feel like enough. I opened the window, was greeted by a gentle breeze, and stepped out onto the balcony. I walked the one yard length to the railing.
The atmosphere was cool and crisp, signaling that it would soon be cold enough to snow. I took a deep breath of the air, letting its refreshing sensation run its way down my throat and into my lungs. I heard a flap of wings and turned to my right, and quickly turned to investigate.
On the railing perched a bird. Not any bird, but a mockingjay. They can repeat the melodies of even the most complex songs. It opened its beak and began to sing. I looked at it confused. I wonder who had sung to it? Then I started to pay attention to the notes. I recognized them. I was shocked. Was this some sort of cruel prank? But only four people had ever known what that melody belonged to. Me, my mother, my father and Hayven.
The bird was singing Hayven's lullaby. The one that he used to sing to calm me down. The song that he created, and shared only to my family. But… Hayven was dead. Only one person could have sung it to the bird, my father. Did Father use the lullaby in his last moments of life, to tell me he too was going to die? Then I remember the significance of the mockingjay.
It was a stab in the back to Capitol; they thought that their mutts, the Jabberjays, would die off in the wild when they abandoned them. Only they mated with female mockingbirds. It created a whole new species of animals. Something the Capitol had no control over. Just like the Rebellion.
I decided to go with the more pleasant idea. My dad was alive. And this was the signal that he said he would send. That also meant that District 13 was very much alive. It also meant that the Rebellion had a chance to reform, and that it was something the Capitol had no control over. Yeah, I like the pleasant idea better. Let's stick with that.
Want to know the other I'm going to try to finish updating today? I saved this chapter over the next chapter. So I had to rewrite the other one. I got really mad, and I don't want that to happen again, so I just want this off my back. Don't get me wrong; I love writing this, it just makes me sad when I save over a whole chapter. Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed reading! I personally thought that this wasn't one of my best chapters, but I needed to add it. Review! I still want to be Katniss! I will try to post the next two chapters today! Stay tuned!