All right, sorry if this gets a little long and wordy, but I feel like I have to kind of do it like this.
Lystra's POV
". . . and so," the Capitol official droned "they were greatly honored by the Capitol with the opportunity of fame. And, I am happy to say, they achieved it. This is why today we are gathered here to remember the brave souls of Elvatorix Fox and Colin Shoemaker. Let us have a moment of quiet."
I looked about myself at the assembled mourners attending the funeral. The Capitol official (a tall, smug man) stood in between the two caskets that held Elvatorix and Colin, on a podium. I stood to the official's left, with Kayton, Vincent, and Emerald to my left. The prep team hadn't come. Snow had surprised everyone by appearing, and stood at my original spot – on the Capitol official's right. The families of Elvatorix and Colin were gathered tightly around the caskets, while the other mourners were behind them.
We were on the stage where they did the Reapings. Mourners who didn't fit on the stage were on the ground below, and the streets, as far as I could see. It was a spectacular view into the city with its high buildings. I remembered it bombed in the arena. I much preferred this view.
I studied Colin's family, which was so much like mine. Both Mrs. Shoemaker and Sparkle were clad in long but simple mourning gowns. Mrs. Shoemaker was staring at the casket as if it was a branding iron about to kill her. Her limbs continuously jerked about like she was resisting the urge to run away from this nightmare. She shook with silent sobs of terror.
Sparkle, however, was in a state of shock. Someone had obviously attempted to explain death to the child, but it was not done well. Her eyes screamed of confusion and terror. She stood very still and close to her mother, as if wanting reassurance, but none came.
Elvatorix's family was much larger – a cluster of siblings, aunts, uncles, and so on. Mr. Fox's face was a mask, staring at his daughter's dead, still, beautiful face. Another man who looked like Mr. Fox and had Elvatorix's green eyes (I assumed he was an uncle) stood behind Mr. Fox with his hands on his shoulders.
Mrs. Fox's face was a veil of sorrow. She sobbed delicately into a handkerchief. I knew the audience was eating this up, but I thought that somehow, this act rang false. It was like she was only pretending to be sad because she was expected to.
The woman clutching Mrs. Fox's hand looked exactly like Elvatorix – blonde hair, green eyes, and a look that could send you running for your mother. I assumed that she was Elvatorix's aunt. She kept gazing at me sharply, like she was assessing me; wondering if I was worthy to be in her presence. I recognized the hatred I saw there. I met her gaze calmly and with an air of dignity until she looked away. A flash of smug satisfaction hit me. My eyes always unsettled people.
Elvatorix's other relatives showed similar expressions to the others. Only her siblings showed real signs of sorrow. A boy of about 19 or 20 stood over the others protectively, looking at everyone threateningly. A girl of about 13 stood just before him, eyes numb with sorrow. Whenever anyone looked at her, she shoot them a look of, 'Yes. Elvatorix is dead. I am sad. This is horrible. Go away' and everyone looked away, embarrassed. At her side, a girl of about 17 had silent tears running down her face. She hugged a confused-looking boy of about 7. Twin girls sat on the ground, hugging and crying in the other's arms. They were only about nine. Their grief was so great, I could literally feel it coming off them in waves.
They all looked exactly like Elvaatorix – just as beautiful and cocky, with those green eyes (one twin and the oldest boy had blue) and blonde hair (the girl of 13 had brown like her mother). When I looked at the 17 year old girl, I thought for a moment that I was seeing Elvatorix again.
I noticed that neither parents nor the other relatives were even attempting to comfort the children. They were alone in their grief. I wondered what it would be like to live in that sort of family, and I felt a stabbing sort of feeling – guilt, almost.
I shuddered and looked away.
The Capitol official looked at me, inviting me to speak. I nodded and took his spot on the podium. "Elvatorix Fox," I said, quietly, but all could hear me. "was a beauty, and a fighter. I remember that I first thought her to be just a pretty face, but I soon found that that was incorrect. This one was willing to fight to the end." I stopped and glanced at Elvatorix's family, meeting her aunt's eyes when I spoke the next few sentences.
"At first, my thoughts of Elvatorix was completely of respect, and, when we entered the Games, fear. I can honestly say, however, that I never truly hated Elvatorix. I respected her, and she respected me." Elvatorix's aunt nodded slowly at me. I sent her a small, sad smile in return. "Elvatorix proved that she was a worthy opponent throughout the Games. In remembrance of her, I made this drawing."
I held up the drawing, and everyone gasped. The detail was astounding. "I give this to Elvatorix as a reminder of the world that she's left." I stepped up to Elvatorix and handed her the drawing, putting it firmly under her hands. "May she always remember us, her friends, her family, and fellow tributes of the 24th Hunger Games."
I went back to the podium, pausing a moment, before holding up the other picture, and walking towards Elvatorix's family. "As she may remember us, I wish for you to remember her." I stopped two feet in front of her siblings. They seemed the best people to give the picture to. "Keep her safe, where all could see. This is what Elvatorix would have wanted."
I handed the picture to the 17 year old girl, the one that looked so much like Elvatorix. She accepted it silently and hugged it to her chest.
I walked back to the podium. "I never knew Colin," I told everyone honestly. "He was just another tribute to me. But I feel . . . a certain kinship to him." I held up the drawing of Colin, and strode to his coffin. He looked so peaceful, safe in it. Carefully, I put the picture in his hands. "I give this to Colin as a reminder of the world that he has left. May he always remember us, his friends, his family, and fellow tributes of the 24th Hunger Games."
Again, I went back to the podium, taking the other picture. I went to Colin's family, holding it up. Mrs. Shoemaker seemed heartened by it, which made me happy, but it was Sparkle that needed the picture. I squatted down to be her size.
"As he remembers us," I told her "I wish for you to remember him, too." I pressed the picture into Sparkle's chest, but she didn't accept it."
"You remember, too," she pushed the picture back to me.
Gently, I pushed it back. "I have my own," I told her. "I will remember. Always." Sparkle nodded and clutched the drawing, desperately.
I took my place back on the left of the podium, and the Capitol official took the right, so that Snow could stand on the podium and speak.
"I mourn with you, friends," Snow said, breaking the silence that had existed after my speech. "for these two young people, as I know you mourn with me for the others who didn't make it to the end of the 24th Hunger Games, as well as for my father." Sourly, I noticed he didn't mention Nich. "It is this grief that binds us, making us strong, uniting us as a country." Oh. I saw what he was doing now – diverting everyone's attention. Even though he was now at fault for their deaths (having taken his father's burden), he was making it seem as though it was some unseen enemy's fault. I wasn't buying it, and I thought that several other people weren't either. I became so annoyed by Snow, I was having a hard time keeping myself from smirking or saying something rebellious. So I tuned him out.
He talked for a very long time. I believe that everyone in the crowd was beginning to get annoyed when Snow made his mistake.
"And so, I say we band together in memory of Colin and Elvatorix, and become one. As well –" he cut off abruptly when a small, high voice told him,
"No!"
Snow turned, seemingly confused towards the small sound. "Excuse me?" I saw the bodyguards at the corners of the stage shift.
"No!" the voice repeated, and the figure stepped forward. It was Colin's sister, Sparkle. "You not care 'bout Colin." Shocked murmurs swept through the crowd. Mrs. Fox let out a strangled scream of surprise, and fainted dramatically into another woman's arms.
"What?" Snow was completely confused, gazing at Sparkle. "Of course I do. He was a brave man. He died with honor."
"Honor?" Sparkle screeched "No honor. Just dead. He dead. You're fault."
"My fault?" the bodyguards were getting closer now. I gazed at Sparkle with appreciation. Strong-minded kid. Reminded me of myself.
"YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT!" Sparkle was screeching, pointing a finger accusingly at Snow. "YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT!"
"How is it my fault?" asked Snow in horror "your ancestors brought this on you themselves."
"YOUR FAULT!" Sparkle screeched. The crowd could only stare on in horror as the bodyguards began to push through the crowds. I didn't see why they were so scared of a child – it wasn't like she held a knife or sword. Just words. Words were powerful – very, very powerful.
"You, woman!" Snow seemed to be looking for someone to blame – and he had enough sense in him to know that he couldn't blame a child. Instead, he gestured to Mrs. Shoemaker. "What have you done to make your child think that I killed your son?"
I saw the bodyguards' attention shift to Mrs. Shoemaker. I tightened my hands into fists, one hand reaching slightly towards my pocket, where I had a knife. One shot was all I would need . . . My attention was on Mrs. Shoemaker. What would she say?
She straightened up, which made her quite tall. She shook herself, as though reminder her who she was. "Young President," she said in a proud voice that made me feel quite self-conscious "I was not aware that you are blind."
"What?" Snow didn't understand. I did. A smile was threatening to curl onto my lips, but I pushed it down, one hand in my pocket, fingering the hilt on the blade.
"You must be blind," Mrs. Shoemaker continued "because a three year old can see more than you."
Snow seemed to be regaining himself. "My good lady, are you suggesting that I –" he broke off here, and I saw his Adam's apple moved up and down. "that I killed your son?" It was a deadly accusation, but it was completely true.
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."
There was a loud gasp. This was treason. Punishable with slow death, and scorn to your name. And at a funeral, no less! The bodyguards came closer, closing in on Mrs. Shoemaker. Sparkle was losing it, clutching the picture of Colin to her chest, and crying loudly.
Mrs. Shoemaker's eyes met mine. In an instant, I understood what she wanted me to do. She wasn't scared to die anymore; she wanted to join her husband and son. But she couldn't take her daughter. She wanted me to keep her for her.
I glanced at Sparkle, crying her heart out in her confusion. The poor child. . . . she was about to lose her only living family. I glanced back to Mrs. Shoemaker. The bodyguards were almost in a complete circle around her, holding dangerous-looking machine guns. She looked desperately back at me, begging me silently.
I gave her a small nod. I would take Sparkle. I would raise her as my own child – with the help of my father, Rayne, Kayton, Estella, and Estella's brother, Issac. We would be her new family. She would be safe, happy, and healthy. I would take Sparkle. But, not only that, I would also give mercy to Mrs. Shoemaker. I would give her a quick death – unlike the slow one that the bodyguards were about to give her.
I took out the knife. Mrs. Shoemaker's eyes widened slightly, but I saw the gratitude in them. The mourners gasped – expecting me to fight the bodyguards, no doubt. I looked for an opening in the mass of guards now surrounding Mrs. Shoemaker, and found one – barely an inch between two bodyguards. It would go straight into Mrs. Shoemaker's heart.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked quickly, and saw Kayton's eyes fixed on Mrs. Shoemaker's face. "Do it, Lystra," she whispered. "Do it now."
I nodded quickly to her, and threw the knife. The last thing that Mrs. Shoemaker saw was my face, and the look of gratitude on her face was enough to ensure me that I had done the right thing. There was a soft thump, a sigh from Mrs. Shoemaker, and the sound of her hitting the ground.
Hardly anyone had seen my knife leave my hand, so there was general confusion. No bodyguard had fired a weapon. So why was Mrs. Shoemaker dead? I didn't wait for them to figure it out. I nodded once to Elvatorix and Colin's bodies, and hurried over to Sparkle. The poor thing was rolling on the ground in pure terror.
"Sparkle?" I reached out my hand towards her. "Sparkle, I need you to come with me."
Sparkle peeked through her hands. "Were you a friend of Colin?"
I nodded. I felt like I knew Colin, even if I really didn't. Wasn't that all that mattered? Sparkle allowed me to pick her up, and I turned to Kayton, Emerald, and Vincent. The funeral was becoming a mob of confusion.
"We should get out of here," I decided.
Later, on the train, Kayton and I stood in my room, gazing at Sparkle, who was sleeping in my bed. I sighed. "What am I going to do with her, Kayton? I don't have any siblings. I have no idea what to do with her."
Kayton put a hand on my shoulder. "Love her," she turned to face me. "I once had a family, Lystra, with a sister just like her," she gestured to Sparkle. "There's only one thing you can do with her : love her. Love her with all your heart, and protect her as best you can."
I nodded, looking from Kayton to Sparkle. "We both will."