This one's long! Fair warning – but it's good – you get more than just depressed, partially-insane Lystra in this one. Review and message me, please!
Lystra's POV
The following day consisted of a peaceful morning, sitting by the fire, eating breakfast for 3 hours, clutching the vile with purple liquid, and trying not to cry. When lunch finally rolled around, I joined the others at the table.
Vincent looked at me with a worried expression. "How are you, Lystra?" he asked gently.
I sent him a look as sharp as the knives I threw. "You know, Vincent. Why make yourself seem like a fool asking?"
Vincent flinched visibly, and returned to his plate, not looking up for a long while. Emerald tried to spark conversation with me, also, but eventually resigned herself to her plate. Kayton didn't try. When I glanced over at her, she regarded me with an almost fearful expression. I quickly looked back down to my roll.
I knew I was being poor company. I knew I was being snappish. But I didn't care. I had a lot – and I mean, a lot on my mind.
When the meal came to an end, I sat still at the table, along with everyone else. Finally, Kayton stood up, and walked down the hall. I regarded her retreating back carefully. She seemed to have aged about 20 years. If I had known how much the tale of secrets about this Hunger Games would hold for her, I wouldn't have told.
I was just contemplating whether or not I should go after her when Vincent cleared his throat, a small sound that was barely audible.
Trying not to seem to ferocious, I turned to him, meeting his eyes. My voice only snapped a little when I said, "What?"
Vincent's arms moved ever so slightly – I knew he was wringing his hands under the table. "We have to get you ready for your interview with Viola."
Viola. How little she mattered to me right now. Just the thought of her silly accent, girlish attitude, and ridiculous sense of fashion made me want to puke. I took a deep, deep breath and forced myself to look away from Vincent; to resist taking my anger out on him.
"All right," I muttered.
Vincent gave me a pitying look, stood, and offered me his arm. My eyebrows lifted slightly, and my mouth curved into a sad, thankful smile. I accepted his arm. We were halfway to the door when Emerald remembered her job as escort. Quickly, she joined us.
When we arrived at the styling room, Emerald quickly left us, being replaced by my prep team. It took me a few moments to remember their names; Cario, Hezi, and Marinah. The last time I had seen them seemed like another life.
They immediately began to get me ready for Vincent. I didn't know what he had prepared for me this time. As usual, their efforts were painful, but my heart was too numb to notice. They took off all of my bandages, pronouncing them fully healed. I was almost reluctant to see the bandages gone. They had been a constant reminder that the Games were real; that I hadn't just imagined them. Now that that reminder was gone . . . I felt like I was becoming insane.
When Vincent came in with my outfit, I acknowledged it with approval. It seemed only right for what I'd just been through. But when he handed me tools – the only tools other than knives that I could understand – I gasped. So did the others.
Vincent took my hands in his, and looked deep in my eyes. In them, I tried to express my regret, sadness, and thanks for what he was about to do. When he let go, I looked around for somewhere to sit. I had work to do.
That night, I stepped onto the stage amid the screams of an enthusiastic crowd and the bright lights of the stage. Everyone wore a smile, seemingly happy to see me. Their brightly colored skin, hair, clothes, and other various objects were extremely in contrast to me.
I wore a simple, long black dress that went to the floor, and had a long train. A simple, thin black headband kept my hair from my face, and I wore no shoes or jewelry. My visible skin was pattered with blacks and grays (waterproof), the un-patterned a pale white.
It took the Capitol only a moment to realize that I was wearing the same outfit as before – during my first interview. I could tell this confused them.
I sat down beside Viola, my face expressionless, eyes holding truth of upmost sadness. She looked at me with what seemed to be pity, and patted my hands. "Ladies and Gentlemen!" she called to the crowd, glancing at me sideways. "The victor of the 24th Hunger Games, Lystra Fay Gull!"
There was wild cheering and clapping, and I knew that, most of the time, the Victor would stand up and flex their muscles or show off in some way. I lifted myself up, straight-backed and stared down at the crowd. The intended effect seemed to have worked – they shivered and stopped cheering almost immediately.
I smiled at them – but it was a sad, sad smile, not a happy one. The audience was completely quiet. Viola hesitated a moment, then asked me,
"So, Lystra, how does it feel to be the victor of the 24th Hunger Games?"
I glanced out towards the audience, searching for Vincent in the audience. He gave a small nod to me, and I looked back to Viola.
"Honestly?" I asked. "Do you really want to know – or do you want me to lie like they do every year?"
Murmurs of confusion swept through the crowd. The Capitol was always very close to the Victors – why would the Victors lie?
"Of course, dear," Viola nodded graciously to me, ignoring the audience's reaction. "We always prefer honesty." I nodded and stared at the audience again. In the screen, I saw a camera zoom up on my face. I was surprised at how frightening I looked – and sad, too. So very, very, sad.
"So, dear," Viola encouraged me. "Tell us. How does it feel to be the victor of the 24th Hunger Games?"
I fixed my eyes on the crowd, and saw the screen immediately zoom up to me. "Like a living hell."
Many, many people began to scream in surprise – this was beyond their reckoning. They were used to happy victors – not depressed ones. But I wasn't going to hide it from them. A picture of Tanner floated into my head. I blinked slightly, and a tear slid out of my eye. The audience saw this, and fell silent once more.
"What makes you say that, dear?" Viola's concerned voice asked.
I turned to her again. "I think you know, Viola. I think you all know." I paused, waiting for it, and one person in the audience called out, "Tanner!" I inclined my head slightly towards the voice and they all began calling his name. Just hearing his name was enough. I felt the knot in my throat trying to come up, and I didn't resist. I began to cry silent tears, running down my face.
The tears were a symbol of love for Tanner.
Of thanks to the audience for caring.
Of Resistance.
Resistance from the Capitol.
I closed my eyes momentarily, breathing slowly. When I opened them, I opened my mouth. The audience immediately was silent.
"Thank you." I told them.
"Now, Lystra," she leaned in towards me. "Let's talk clothes."
I wanted to shiver and tell her 'no, thank you!' but I didn't dare. Instead, I smiled slightly, sadly. "Yes, my stylist captured what I'm going through perfectly, didn't he?"
Viola nodded, closing her eyes slightly as she did so. "Yes, I'll say he did. Vincent, stand and take a bow!"
Vincent stood stiffly. He was dressed in completely black, like me. He lowered his head ever so slightly, sitting back down quickly.
"What impresses me, though," Viola continued. "is the similarities of this outfit to your outfit your first interview." Immediately a picture of me in my bright golden outfit appeared on half of the screen. "Why do you think he went with this new approach of the outfit?"
"Well," I said slowly. "Before the Games, I was the Golden Apple. Many times, in history, the Golden Apple came up, right?" There was a murmur of agreement. We all knew about the many Golden Apples – they were children's bedtime stories. "And each time, it was before something serious happened. The Golden Apple was always beautiful, always ripe. Then, something bad happened." Here I paused for dramatic effect, letting a tear drift down my cheek. "And afterwards, nobody asks what happened to the Apple. No one cares. The Apple disappears into the shadows; into the background." Here I gestured to my dark outfit.
"The Apple," I continued "is unchanged, but has lost. The Apple's cheery, bright golden color has not persisted. The Apple has lost the battle, and its color, too, has been lost, making it black and gray, colors of mourning for all the lost lives."
Complete silence. Eventually, I knew that Viola would break it, asking me a new question or introducing a new topic, but for the moment, she let it be.
"And now," Viola announced "for the highlights of the 24th Hunger Games!"
I allowed myself to lean back in my seat a bit. All eyes were fixed on the screen as it began to roll, beginning with the Capitol seal and fanfare.
It only showed a few reapings; just those of the tributes closest to me, or important in the Games – Elvatorix, Carrie, Armondo, Rayne, Nich (who, at the time was Mazie), Totsie, and Echo.
And then I was on the screen, volunteering to save Estella. I swallowed slightly. I knew Estella would still be in the Games next year. There was just too much drama attached to the name 'Estella Mason' for her to go unnoticed.
When Tanner came on the screen, the pictures stopped. It was a good picture of Tanner – showing him brave and sturdy, as he stood beside me on the stage.
"Lystra," Viola said slowly "How does it feel to see Tanner's face for the first time since . . ." she trailed off, not wanting to remind me. I was grateful, but I couldn't seem weak.
"Since he died?" I finished. She nodded. I closed my eyes and chose my next words carefully. "It's not the first time, Viola." There were several loud gasps as the audience misinterpreted my words. "His face follows me around. He's not really left me, Viola." I opened my eyes, and patted my heart. "He's right here."
Viola nodded as the crowd let out mournful cries as they remembered Tanner. "And seeing your small friend, Estella Mason? Does it hearten you at all?"
I thought of Estella. "Estella is a smart, tough girl. She's an orphan, and takes care of her brother. We were always in it together." I smiled slightly. "Estella is a reason worth living." There were several long moments of crying people in the audience, and I pictured Estella as she would be at that moment. Would she be happy to hear me say this? Sad? Worried? I wasn't sure.
The screen continued its film. The only other reapings were of Lillibet and Spade. Next it showed clips of our meetings on the rooftops. You couldn't hear anything but the wind, and the pictures were partially blocked by plants, but nobody cared. This was important in the Games.
The screen froze on a shot of me, looking at Nich in disbelief. "Lystra," Viola said "you didn't seem like you were sold on Mazie's alliance here."
I shook my head. "I wasn't, at first. I thought it was stupid. But then . . . but then I realized that I felt something for Tanner. I knew I couldn't kill him, and Mazie's idea seemed . . . like it would work in my new condition. So I accepted the invitation."
"Do you regret choosing her alliance?"
I shook my head again. "No. I don't regret a thing I did for Tanner, as I know he wouldn't for me."
The screen moved on to the interviews, showing only parts of Elvatorix, Carrie, Armondo, Rayne, Nich, Totsie, Echo, Lillibet, and Spade's. The only one's shown in full was my own, Tanner's, and Nich's. When we reached Tanner's declaration of love for me, the pictures stopped.
"Tell us what you were feeling – right then," Viola pressed.
"Confusion, at first," I answered "Then . . . then the shock settled. I mean, I'd known him all my life, and . . ." I trailed off, shrugging. "It was shocking."
"When did you return his feelings?" Viola asked.
I considered. "It took a few days, and many sleepless nights, for me to sort out my feelings. I felt like a jumbled mess. But then, I knew what I know now." I paused slightly. "I loved – still love – Tanner. With all my heart. There will never be another."
Many sighs and sobs of heartbreak from the crowd. Viola sniffled and brought out a tissue. I thought that I was the only one not crying.
The screen continued, into the Games, and into the bloodbath. When it got to the point of my triumphant face after sending a knife into Armondo's bone, the pictures stopped.
"Well!" Viola said. "I don't think any of us were quite expecting that, Lystra!" she laughed loudly. "You seemed like such a delicate little Golden Apple – with a love and everything! But you sure showed us!" there was quite a lot of laughter from the crowd, but my face was expressionless.
The screen went on to us finding the destroyed District 1, where the pictures stopped yet again.
"Lystra, what did you think?"
"That it was real," I answered. "everything seems so real in the arena – I hardly had second thoughts."
The screen hurried to the ghostly version of our district and stopped at a perfect shot of me crying in my house.
"I think you were quite shocked here," Viola chuckled. "We all thought we were losing our tough Lystra here. But you pulled yourself back up."
I nodded. "Yes. Thanks to Tanner. I think that he got me through all of those days." My voice caught, and a tear came out of my eyes. Many 'awwww's came from the crowd.
The pictures went on, and I watched several parts of the Games I hadn't been able to see – Luna being killed, the Careers hunting down loaners. Then, finally, during the Great Battle, I watched so many die. When the screen stopped on me holding Tanner, I lost it. I began to cry buckets, and the crowd did too. Viola shed many tears, and we ended up embracing, crying on the other's shoulder.
Eventually, the screen continued. I saw Carrie kill the other Careers, and Elvatorix kill her. Then Elvatorix was after us. We got the basket of bread. Then the small potion labeled 'poison'. Then the sky lit up with the memorial for the President. The screen stopped.
"What were you thinking?" Viola asked me, her voice still a sob.
"So many deaths," I whispered. "It was horrible." I shuddered. "I never – never want to deal with that sort of knowledge again."
More tears followed. Much sobbing. Much sadness. I couldn't remember any other interview like it – they had all been happy. But not this one. This was very sad.
Viola let the screen continue to the end of the Games, finally fixing on a picture of me staring into the woods, sad, strong, and proud.
"Oh Lystra," she murmured just under the crowd's loud crying. I met her eyes. She truly did feel bad for me. I blinked thanks, and the moment was gone.
"So tell us!" she said loudly, to catch the attention of the crowd. "What was in the letter?"
"Directions." I said simply. "It told me how to find a bottle and what it was."
"And what was it?" Viola asked eagerly.
I smiled slightly at her eagerness. "Wait."
She let the screen continue, and it flicked to me going crazy in the helicopter, and Kayton taking me back, to clips of me crying in my room. The screen stopped at the picture I had drawn of Tanner.
There was a hush in the crowd.
"You have talent, Lystra," Viola said quietly. I nodded. She said no more, only let the film continue. More pictures of me crying. Then, me in Tanner's doorway. And finally, me on the rooftop, holding the small vial of purple liquid.
"All right, Lystra," Viola said. "Tell us what's in it now."
I closed my eyes. "Poison."
Loud gasps and calls for me not to take it. "Lystra!" gasped Viola "You got rid of it, didn't you?"
I shook my head. "I have it with me now." I took out a vial and looked at it carefully. The whole building was silent. I saw men with tranquillizer guns appear in the wings.
"You aren't going to take it, are you Lystra?" breathed Viola.
I shook my head again. "Tanner sacrificed himself to save me, didn't he? I want to be with him, but that can wait. I have to accept his dying wish." I then threw the vial onto the stage, where it shattered, spilling glass and purple liquid everywhere.
No one moved to pick it up.
Long and good – feel like I accomplished something here. Don't worry – the mysteries of the 'tools' and why Lystra would smash the bottle will be solved in the next chapter, which continues the interview.