(12)
The anthem plays and the skies light up. The faces of Darius, Flavius, Octavia, Portia, Tolliver and Venia are projected into the night.
The cameras are back on the Career Pack. Prim takes a breath in, "Can we please find my mother?"
"No," Morrison replies without thought. "She would only drag us down."
"Well, she is an excellent healer," says Jamie, trying to stand up for Prim.
"With any luck, we won't get injured," Morrison spits.
Prim climbs into her sleeping bag. It's very large for her small body, but there is not much room for a second person. Somehow Peeta and Jamie fit into their bag comfortably. Jamie crosses his arms and lies on his back, gazing into the stars. Peeta is on his side, facing Prim. Morrison just paces back and forth for awhile until he sits down, back against the tree.
"I'll watch for the night," he forces out, breaking a long silence.
Jamie protests, insisting they switch off, but Morrison doesn't give in. Eventually Jamie can't take the bickering and decides to fall asleep with Peeta and Prim quickly following.
Morrison isn't happy just sitting still. He gets up and runs into a different part of the woods, carrying only a small knife. After several minutes of jogging, his sweat begins to pour down from his forehead. Contrary to the Games in the past, the weather at night is actually quite warm, so he has no choice but to remove his shirt. I try not to notice, but Morrison is well shaped. He's very fit, which I assume is from wrestling and all the work he's done at the bakery. But to counter his physical perfection, the flaws in his character are, I'd say, more prominent then his body. The way he treated my sister earlier and how he insists on having everything his way, are not good qualities.
He wipes the sweat off his brow and takes out the knife, then repeatedly throws it into a tree, each time getting a good stick. Out of nowhere, a small voice arises, "Nice arm."
Morrison turns to face the direction of the noise and Johanna struts up to him, arms crossed with a look of displeased admiration.
"Evening Johanna," he says, leaving the knife in the tree.
"Morrison," she nods, acknowledging him. Then she drops her pack and flings herself at him. To my surprise, he willingly allows this and the cameras show her hands, moving up and down his back, searching for something. When she hits the top of his pants, she stops, and whispers, "You're clear," biting her thumbnail.
Morrison mumbles, "I'm not even going to check you."
"Trust…" Johanna snickers, touching his ear.
"Yes." I watch as the corners of Morrison's mouth curl up in a smile. This is the first time I've seen him smile.
"I love it when I'm trusted," she leans her face into his, "because I'm obviously very trustworthy."
"Obviously," his arms stay at his sides.
She chuckles lightly. "It's a pity you don't smile more. You have the cutest dimples," she sticks her finger into his cheek.
Morrison tilts his head backwards and closes his eyes, letting out a small moan and Johanna withdraws her finger.
Johanna grabs both his hands and places her head on his chest, "Allies?"
"You have a sleeping bag?"
"Morrison! I'll take that as a yes!"
"Oh, no!" he exclaims and clarifies, "You and Prim can share. I meant, do you have one I could use?
"Yes," Johanna releases her grasp on him and walks very casually and slowly over to pack, "But I don't want to share with Prim." She flips around to look him the eyes and lets out a small laugh.
"Well," Morrison begins, but there must be action elsewhere because the cameras leave Johanna and Morrison alone, going back to Enobaria.
She must be in some sort of excruciating pain because her moans are loud and consistent. For a moment, I don't know why we're watching Enobaria, but then I see the eyes emerge from the darkness. The tall, dark figure takes heavy steps closer to her shaking body. She begins to cry out louder. He smiles and takes a large rock off the ground.
Enobaria's eyes open wide. He is right over her head when he begins kicking her, again and again, until she's on her back, bleeding, begging for mercy. Then he takes the stone and hits her repeatedly until the cannon sounds. Merrow has his first kill.
Her death is too gruesome for me to bear. "Turn it off!" I yell at Leanore, squeezing my eyes tightly.
Leanore scrambles for the remote and the television is silenced. I breathe in deeply, but the food does not stay down. I barely have time to lean over the side of the bed before I've emptied the contents of my stomach all over the ground.
Leanore jumps out of bed and grabs the trash can. I vomit some more before pushing the can away and lying back down.
"You want me to leave it off?" she asks, rubbing my back.
"No, it's alright. You keep watching. I'll just rest my eyes. Wake me if anything important is happening," I say, and then I add, "or if they show Peeta."
"Ok," she reaches for the remote and turns the volume way down, to barely a whisper. I lay my head on the pillow and slowly drift off to sleep. If I had known I'd be falling into the worst nightmare of my life, I wouldn't have fallen asleep so easily.
I am running, pulling on a small child's hand. When I turn around to look, the figure grows larger, first into Leanore and then it becomes Peeta. I let go of his hand and turn to face him. Once again, a dagger finds itself in his stomach.
"NO!" I yell, ripping the knife out of him angrily. He howls in pain and I start crying. Unsure of what to do, I kiss him fiercely and he falls to the ground, soaked in blood.
I lie on top of him, shaking his head wildly. His beautiful locks of blond hair are damp with sweat. "Peeta!"
"Ahh…" he moans, in so much pain between the wound and my weight, but I find myself glued to him. "Forget me. Save the baby."
Baby? What baby? But my unspoken question finds an answer when a small voices calls, "Mommy…" in a way that sends chills down my spine.
I turn around to look into the eyes of a six year old boy whose mouth is open wide and filled with blood. "Mommy?" he repeats, stretching his hand to reach me. Without warning, the child disappears.
I face Peeta again. His eyes meet mine and his deep blue irises swirl around like a body of water before they begin to tear.
"Daddy!" A voice yells from above. Peeta looks up and so do I. A little girl about the age of eleven is sitting in the tree. She has blond hair just like Peeta and her eyes are the same shape and color as his own. But her hair is back in a braid and her mouth and nose are identical to mine. I'm not welcoming the idea, but she must be our daughter.
She hops off the branch from the tree and lands right at my feet. Standing upright, she bites her lip and whispers, "Is Daddy gonna die?" A drop of blood falls from her lip down her face. I stand up and go to wipe the blood away, when I am overcome by the smell of roses. President Snow has taken my daughter's place and he gives me a big false smile.
I hear a sound of struggling. Behind me, I see a platform. Leanore, Haymitch, Gale and my father are all standing on it with nooses around their necks, tied to the top of a large tree branch.
President Snow pulls a gun to my head and sneers, "Surrender?"
Through my peripheral vision, I see Haymitch fervently shaking his head. So I do as he wants and whisper, "No."
I hear boards slide and President Snow grabs my head with his filthy hands, forcing me to watch as all four people lose their footing and kick until they are still. There are four cracking noises and sickening silence, bodies swaying in the wind.
The first sound is made by Peeta and it sounds worse than the splitting of my friend's necks. President Snow looks over to him and says, "Almost forgot." He fires two shots into Peeta's head. I break free of Snow's hold and run over to him, hopelessly believing there's a chance he could survive. But as I shake him and hold him and breathe air into his lungs, nothing happens. Blood trickles out all over his body and a small pool forms at my feet.
"No!" I wail, scrunching up the neck of Peeta's shirt. I rip his top off and dab at his head injury, trying, without success, to remove the bullets that have lodged themselves deep into his skull.
"You monster!" I scream at Snow, eyes dashing between Peeta and the four hanging bodies tied to the top of the tree.
"And now…" Snow says, clicking his gun into position, "we put out the fire."
He points the gun at my head and I just hear the bang as my body falls limp on top of Peeta.
Then I feel a strong pull on my arm and I snap back into reality. "Katniss, Katniss!" Leanore yells repeatedly.
"No…"I keep moaning without any thought. "No!" My arms are thrashing around uncontrollably and I'm hitting her even if I don't mean to.
"Katniss!" she finally grabs my hands and silences me.
"Mm..." the noise of defeat escapes from my mouth.
"What's wrong?" she says, gluing her eyes onto me.
"You were hanged! And my father, Haymitch and Gale were too. Then President Snow shot Peeta and me…" I trail off and sob gently. "I hate all of this. I hate the Capitol. I hate President Snow for making my life miserable. I hate Haymitch for going crazy. I hate Gale for making everything complicated. I hate my father for just leaving my family for District 13. But most of all, I hate Peeta for getting me pregnant and for loving me so much! My father's right, Leanore. Maybe suicide is the best way to go," I stare at the television and Peeta is breathing slowly in and out in his slumber.
"No, shh... Don't talk like that" Leanore pats my hand.
Words flood out of my mouth before I can stop them, "I just can't take it anymore! I'm going to die soon, so why suffer more pain than I need to?"
"You aren't going to die. Things will work out the way they should. Katniss," she tries desperately to sedate me, "Katniss, we need to keep fighting or it will be a waste. All the lives lost, all the sacrifices, all the trauma will be all for nothing. Think, Katniss! Those people who died in the arena today are only dead because of you--"
"I KNOW!" I blow my head off at her. It is the loudest I've ever screamed at a person and it makes my voice extremely sore.
In a quieter voice, Leanore mumbles, "I didn't mean it like that. I meant…"
"I don't care what you meant. Just get away from me," my head is spinning and I push her off the bed. I can't see if she leaves or not. All that's going through my mind as I thrash around the bed is I killed Darius and Portia. I killed Enobaria. I killed Tolliver and my prep team. It was me. Me! Now I know how Haymitch feels.
These thoughts consume my entire mind and as I fall back asleep, I am the real killer. Morrison does not kill Darius. I do. The violence feels more real in my imagination than when I watched it on television. You can smell the blood, almost touch it, even. The warm liquid covers my hands because I am the killer.
When I wake from my nightmares, I am a different person. I feel tough and unemotional. Leanore comes in to see me as soon as I wake up and asks me how I slept as if last night had never happened. Of course, I don't tell her I dreamt of murdering people. If I did, she might not let me watch the Games, so I reply with a simple, "Yes."
She doesn't question my response at all. Instead, she asks if I'm ready for the Games. With my nod and a push of a button, Day Two of the Hunger Games begins. Technically, Enobaria died on the second day, because she was killed after the night show. I wonder if anyone but Merrow knows she has died.
"What time is it?" I ask wearily.
"Noon," Leanore replies swiftly.
There is twenty four hour coverage on the Games. The people in the Capitol generally stay up all night long and sleep in during the day, so the cameras generally show the most important occurrences in the afternoon. My guess is that if I've missed anything, it happened late at night, but I don't really bother asking Leanore what I've missed. What I really have missed is her company, but I'll never admit this.
To my surprise, the camera comes to focus on my mother. She sits on the ground of the forest. She isn't injured, but she appears weak, probably from a lack of food. There must be some reason why she is the focus right now, but I can't figure it out.
That's when Annie appears out of the thickness of the bushes. She walks rather slowly, but doesn't seem to be any difficulty in her step and she doesn't look starved for food or water. I notice, also, that she is carrying a pack. I register that I must have missed something last night.
As Annie approaches my mother, neither of them look frightened of ore even interested in the other. Annie lets her pack fall to the ground, right by my mother's feet and I hear her speak for the first time. "Lisa, those damn burns got the better of Effie."
My mother sighs and speaks softly in her quiet voice, "I'm sorry to hear that. Where is she?"
"Oh, out there somewhere. I told her I was going to find you," Annie replies, hastily pointing deeper into the forest.
I'm surprised at how different Annie is than she appears. Now I understand why she and Finnick are in love. She has a bit of a fiery spirit and from what I've seen, she appears intelligent. Also, I doubt anyone would deny she is pretty, so I can see why Finnick would love her. As for her attraction to Finnick, what's not to like about him? Based on what he has said about her, I get the impression that Annie and Finnick have a relationship similar to the one I have with Gale, minus the romance that is. Perhaps they grew up together as friends.
My mother carefully opens the pack. Inside she finds a few bottles of water and a slab of meat. "There's nothing in here," my mother cries.
"I know," Annie says roughly. "I tried going back to the Cornucopia but that boy was still there."
My mother tosses the bag away and gets up off the ground, shaking off the dirt on her clothes. "We should look for Effie," she says, attempting to run her fingers through her hair.
"We should…" Annie replies with hesitation, "… but I just don't feel like walking around this cursed arena to find an idiotic and brain-washed woman from the Capitol," she throws in quite a few curse words in her sentence.
"But she's an ally," my mother gives Annie an intense stare. She's trying to send her a message without words.
"I know," Annie returns the stare and after a minute, she turns her shoulder opposite my mother, walking away.
As soon as Annie says this, a shock runs through my body, a feeling of intense pain. I cry out and Leanore is shaking me over and over again but for a minute or so, I fall out of reality. This sort of pain is so different from what I've experienced in the Games.
"Katniss!" I hear her voice, but I cannot answer. Every time my mouth opens, another cry escapes. I jolt forward and scream.
When the moment is finally over and Leanore is in a complete state of utter panic, I lay back down and bite my finger. The pain slowly melts away.
"I guess Mellibelle is coming soon," Leanore stares at the button on my side table.
It takes me a minute to realize that she is referring to my baby. "Yes, I suppose," I mumble out.
"In two days you'll see Peeta," she continues.
The thought is overwhelming. I've been watching him on television for a long time, but he doesn't feel real. Even in my dreams, it doesn't even get close to actually being with him. "I hope."
"You will."
"You know something, Leanore?"
"What?" she says, anxious to respond because I'm finally talking.
"Three years ago, I was out in the forest hunting with Gale," I decide to say.
"You mean, today?"
I check the television schedule on the side table for the date, "Yes, today."
"Ok. Why mention it?"
"On this day, (I remember because of how cold it was for the middle of March) we traded a rabbit for a loaf of bread at Mr. Mellark's bakery." As I'm speaking, this forgotten memory comes right up to the front of my mind, demanding to be recognized. "Gale brought it into the bakery and I waited outside in the snow. I remember how Gale had come outside to get me, saying that Mr. Mellark wouldn't sell it to him unless I was present. So, I thought nothing of it and went inside. But now I recall how Peeta was behind the cash register. I looked over at him and he didn't smile. He just stared at me, a look of indifference frozen on his face. I gave him a small smile as I left and just now, I recall how the tip of his nose had turned a scarlet red. I thought at the time it was from the cold, but he must have been blushing."
Leanore just nods. I'm not sure why this came to mind, but as Leanore formulates a response, I understand the reason.
"You're already close to him," she says.
"What?"
"You're reminding yourself of memories you have with him in order to feel closer," she replies matter-of-factly.
"Oh," I reflect upon this.
"Don't worry. In a month's time, you, Katniss Mellark, will be happily living with Peeta and your baby daughter in a warm house. You'll see," she says with a smile.
Of course, this is complete nonsense. I don't see myself living in any warm house or having a baby. I see myself dying the day after tomorrow. The hovercraft will be captured and I will be killed. Or maybe even I'll die during childbirth.
"'In all things it is better to hope than to despair,'" Leanore quotes. "My mother taught me that a long while ago. I don't know who said it."
Something deep inside of me stirs as she says this and I understand. I can't just give up on myself. There is a battle in the future and it is important that I don't lose hope. Maybe we aren't all doomed. So, as we concentrate back on the television, I begin to formulate a plan. A plan to escape into the arena.