All right, this chapter is dedicated to everyone reading it. I am having a pretty exciting day, because I just realized that Resistance is really getting popular! It has 4,294 hits! Thank you, thank you guys! You rock!
Also, this is a fair warning : this is long. Really long. It has 3,928 words! Wow! I did a bunch in this chapter, and I am proud of that. But it is very, very, very long. Enjoy!
And, lastly, I want everyone to review and tell me what they think : A sequel about Estella's games. I'm considering it . . . so review to let me know what you think!
Lystra's POV
Carrie and Armondo's funeral in District 2 was next. They sat side by side in a glass case. After I gave them their drawings (Carrie as she was in life, Armondo with a big, blundering bear), their coffins were closed. When I asked where they would be put, Kayton told me that they would be put in the family graveyard – a large gallery filled with glass coffins with dead people preserved inside it. I shuddered and turned away from them.
Their family was just like them – big, confident, and strong. Not one of them shed a tear, and they all stood close together, fists clenched, and eyes fixed on the horizon. I practically had to force their mother to hold their pictures.
In three, Luna Garcia and Nicholas Atom were buried with their pictures (Luna as a graceful sea-bird, Nicholas sitting on a chair on a hill, a sad expression in his eyes). Luna just had her father, who seemed just as distant as she was. Nicholas had both parents, who cried loudly; his mother fainted once.
In both of these funerals, we attended banquets afterwards, to celebrate the memories of the dead tributes, and stayed the night on the train, sitting at the station. I was interviewed countless times, and I was beginning to dread the cameras that continuously followed me around, asking me questions about the arena, my pictures, fellow tributes, and, most often, Tanner. I tried to answer truthfully and keep the sarcasm out of my voice, but I wasn't too convinced I was succeeding.
Snow didn't show up to either. Apparently, he had chickened out after the experience with Mrs. Shoemaker, and decided not to risk his butt.
I couldn't have cared less.
Anyway, then we were on our way to four.
I sat, perched on the edge of my bed, nervous. Would I be able to save Rayne? This wasn't a Game – or even a funeral. This was life and death. I could make a difference. But could I succeed? Could I save Rayne?
"Lystra?" Sparkle asked. She had been sitting in the corner of the room, munching on cookie – a type of sweet bread for a snack.
"Yes, Sparkle?" I glanced over at the girl, whose face was covered in cookie.
"Why you upset?" Sparkle walked over to me, plopping herself on my lap, and licking her fingers. In the past few days, she had hardly left my side – it was well known that she was traveling with me now, and that I would adopt her. She seemed to trust me completely, and was content, as if I was her mother, and this was her normal routine.
"Upset? I'm not upset."
Sparkle stopped licking her fingers, and looked up at me. Her eyes showed me her disbelief.
"All right," I sighed, shifting on the bed. How could I explain . . . ? "Today, we are going to another funeral, Sparkle."
"Oh." Sparkle still didn't really understand funerals and death – but she knew that she should be quiet and sad when there. She never cried, however, only standing very close to me, or letting me hold her on my hip. "Sad."
"Yes, sad," I said, hesitating. "But we are going to meet someone tomorrow."
"Who?" Sparkle's eyes were wide, looking at me.
"Her name is Rayne." I hesitated. "She was on the television. Did you see her?"
"Yes," Sparkle's eyes clouded with confusion again. "Mother said she dead."
I marveled at the way that Sparkle could speak of Mrs. Shoemaker in that way. Did she know that her mother was dead? I didn't know, and I didn't want to be the one to tell her.
"No, she's not dead." I told her. "Just in a very deep sleep."
Sparkle giggled. "She sleepy?"
I chuckled, and tickled her under the chin. "Very. But now she has to wake up."
"We wake her up?"
I nodded. "Yes, but no one can know. Quiet." I placed a finger to my mouth.
"Quiet," Sparkle mimicked my finger.
"Very quiet." I told her. "And then, Rayne can come with us."
Sparkle sighed and leaned back against the wall. There was a moment of silence. Then Sparkle asked, "Where we going?"
"To my house," I answered.
"What like?" she asked, a bit sleepily.
I hesitated, thinking of my home in the arena, with the ghostly arrangements. Though I'd never brought myself to think it outright, I was scared that I would go home and find my District a city of ghosts. But I forced myself to think positive.
"There are lots of trees," I said "and other plants. We take food off the trees, and the air always smells sweet. It's loud, and there's lots of people, but everyone's kind. Well –" I cut off abruptly, considering. "The Peacekeepers where you're from are nice, but where I come from they're mean. We have to stay away from them."
"They hit?"
I shuddered when I thought of the public beatings in the square. "Yes. They hit."
"Hit bad."
"Very bad," I agreed. "But if you stay away from them, you're fine. And there's lots of good people."
"Who?"
"My dad," I say. My eyes clouded unexpectedly, and I suddenly wanted to see him very badly.
"My dad is dead," Sparkle told me. "Mommy miss him. She says he strong; handsome."
My lips curled up slightly. "My dad's thin as a stick," I told her fondly, "and not much in the way of looks, but he has a good heart."
"Mommy?" she asked, referring to my mother.
I sucked in a deep breath. "No Mommy. She died."
"Oh," Sparkle said. She sat up, meeting my eyes, and patting my hand. "I sorry."
"It's all right," I said, letting the tears fill my eyes.
"Who else?" Sparkle prompted.
"My friend, Estella," I said. "She's just a kid, and she doesn't have a mommy or daddy."
"Oh," Sparkle said. "Sad."
"Yes," I nodded. "Very sad. But she has her brother, Issac, and she's happy. Issac's small – almost as small as you." I added fondly. Sparkle grinned.
"They live with you?" she asked
"Us," I corrected. "And I hope so. Perhaps Father shall adopt them too."
Sparkle clapped her hands. "Yay!" she called out.
"Yay," I echoed, though quieter. I was surprised that we had such a big family now. Father, Rayne, Sparkle, Estella, Issac, and me. I wondered if the house would fit us all. It was then that I remembered that we would get a new, bigger house in the Victor's Village, where we would be neighbors with Kayton. There would be plenty of room for us all.
Clad in my black mourning gown, I carried Sparkle (in her matching gown) to our spot at the funeral, which was at the edge of the district, right beside a monsterous cliff, where no fish venturned, and no fisherman ever fished. This was the burial ground of District 4.
Another Capitol official went on about Rayne and her district partner, Peter. He made them sound so important, so delicate, that I didn't recognize them. Instead, I ignored him and looked at the families.
I found it so interesting to see their families. Peter's was large, like Elvatorix's had been, with seemingly endless aunts and uncles that had some similarities to him. But it was Rayne's I focused on. She had only an older brother, two aunts, and uncle, and 3 grandparents. They all appeared extremely depressed as they gazed at Rayne. I was terribly tempted to tell them that she was alive, to put an end to their sorrow, but I didn't. They might insist that Rayne stay with them, but it was vital she came with me to 11, where we could hide her.
Rayne herself looked completely still in her casket of glass, dead to the world. Yet she was alive – she had to be. I focused on her face, and, maybe it was just me imagining, but I thought I saw her lips move ever so slightly.
The Capitol official moved aside to let me speak. I nodded gratefully at him, and stepped up.
"I am happy to say that I knew Rayne and Peter pretty well," I said "Both of them were in our alliance, and both were brave. However, when Peter died at the Cornucopia, I felt one emotion more bitterly than any other : regret. I had only known Peter a short while, and I could already tell that he was the kind of person you can rely on. I only wish I could have gotten to know him better. And, that being said, I drew this drawing for Peter."
Here I lifted the drawing I had done of Peter – leaning against a fence, grinning, hands in his pockets, and whistling a tune. I stepped forward and handed the picture to Peter. The feeling of his dead, cold, clammy hands was scary, and I wanted to leap a hundred miles away. But I resisted, standing above him. "Remember us, Peter," I said. "As we were; are. And, in return," I turned to Peter's family, holding up the other picture. "We shall remember you, as you were; are." When I handed her the picture, his mother sobbed a thank you. I inclined my head in response, and turned to Rayne.
"I am happy to say that I had the chance to know Rayne pretty well," I said "We were some of the final tributes together, and I always felt a certain connection to Rayne – like she was my sister." I knew I was blabbing, but I was busy staring at Rayne, trying to believe she was alive. Sparkle, still beside me, murmured, "Rayne?" but she had the sense to stay quiet.
I held up the picture of Rayne, half submerged in the waters of the sea, laughing joyfully, with a seashell in one hand and her token, the silver fish, in another. She was full of happiness and life. As she truly was now. But no one else could know that.
Carefully, I put the picture into Rayne's hands, which felt just as dead as Peter's. I hesitated a moment, feeling for a pulse, but I found none. What if she really was dead? What if she died from starvation or dehydration? I gulped, and let go quickly. What if it was too late?
I forced the thought out of my mouth, and held up the other picture of Rayne. I gave the picture to her brother. "Remember her," I whispered "Forever. Do you promise me?"
He nodded, a tear going down his cheek. "Forever. I promise."
"Good," I said, and if my voice trembled a bit right there, that was no one's business.
" . . . and so, we return them to the place where their ancestors lie." The Capitol speaker finished, and motioned to the men to pick up the coffins. I flinched, because I knew what came next. Four men picked up Peter's coffin.
"Goodbye, Peter," all the assembled murmured as one. The men walked closer to the cliff, and threw the coffin. Below, there was a faint splash. Silence.
The men picked up Rayne's coffin. "Goodbye, Rayne." Then Rayne was toppling down, down, into the ocean, in the burial grounds of District 4. I watched carefully where she landed, because I knew I had to go down there, too. She seemed in a shallower part, and the coffin appeared uncracked, but I knew it might not stay that way. She might float out into the sea, or her coffin might break, and she might drown.
I shuddered and looked away. This couldn't happen. She would be fine, right there, waiting for me that night. I fingered the vial in my pocket. She would be fine. She had to be.
The feast was delicious. It was my first time having sea food, and this was the best sea food ever made. I began to feel jealous of the people of District 4 – getting to eat this stuff every day. . . Sparkle, on the other hand, didn't like it at all. After several tries, I finally gave up, laughing, and the chef brought her out a plate of bread and cookies.
I tried to put on a face of happiness in the feast, and sadness in the memories of Peter and Rayne, but I was really very worried underneath. What if Rayne was already dead? It was eating me inside out.
Halfway through the feast, I went onto the dance floor, dancing with Sparkle. She laughed and giggled, enjoying herself thoroughly. I laughed also, covering my worry.
"Up! Up!" Sparkle requested, and I picked the child up, spinning around the dance floor. "Wheee!" she cried "Wheee!" I laughed long and loud, the world a blur around us. At that moment, I wasn't too worried about bumping into someone else.
"Dizzy!" giggled Sparkle "Dizzy! Stop!"
I obliged, spinning to a stop. "Whoa!" I cried as I tried to get my balance. "Whoa!" Sparkle echoed "Whoa!"
Laughing, we went back to the table, sitting down by Kayton.
"Ka-ton, we spin!" giggled Sparkle "Round and round and round!"
"Round and round and round," I echoed. My head was still spinning, like the room was tipping over. . .
"Whoops, Sparkle," Kayton said lightly "I think that Lystra's going to fall over."
"Whoopsies, Lystra!" Sparkle grabbed onto me, as though to support me. "Whoopsies!"
I laughed shakily and tickled her under the chin. "Whoopsies!"
We all laughed, and I regained my balance. I exchanged a glance with Kayton. She knew what I had to do that night. I needed to get away from this feast soon.
"Where are Emerald, Vincent, and the prep team?" I asked, looking about.
"Emerald left," Kayton said. "Said she had to go prepare the schedule for tomorrow." I nodded. That was very much like Emerald.
"And the others?"
Kayton motioned to where Vincent was speaking to Peter's families in calming, reassuring tones as they cried. Guiltily, I wondered if I should join them. But I'd already given them my regrets several times. Nearby, the prep team was showing the people of District 4 their "amazingly amazing makeovers!" Their audience seemed disgusted, but the prep team took disgust for awe, and we thoroughly basking in what they imagined to be 'fame'.
On my lap, Sparkle yawned. "Tired," she told me.
I glanced up at Kayton. "What time is it?" I asked
"Two hours til midnight," she answered. I understood – I couldn't leave the party until midnight, which meant I had to wait two hours.
"Tired," Sparkle repeated. "Nap."
"All right, all right," I looked around for an open couch. I found one, and gestured to it. "Care to join us, Kayton?" I asked.
She shook her head, nodding to the desert cart. "That beauty's been calling to me for some time now. Time to give in."
I laughed, and took Sparkle to the open couch, where I laid her down so that her head was in my lap. She was asleep in an instant. Carefully, I smoothed her brown curls. The poor child . . .
I heard a cough. I glanced up to see a reporter standing in front of me. He was obviously from the Capitol – having bright blue cat ears, eyes, and tail. His tail kept swinging around, as though he was eager to speak to me. Sighing, I pushed back my bangs and looked at him warily. "What?"
"Miss Lystra," he said "may I ask you a few questions?" He had a kind, soft voice that reminded me of a purr, and a polite attitude, so I nodded my approval. He motioned to a camera crew to come over.
"Lystra Fay Gull," he said into the camera "the newest victor of the Hunger Games, is standing here, with me, stunningly handsome" he winked at the camera "Wild, Wild Tom." I found it very hard not to roll my eyes at this point, as the cameras turned to me.
"So, tell us Lystra," Wild, Wild Tom said. "How does it feel to have lost so many friends, specifically Rayne Issa?"
I was confused. Tom seemed to be asking me questions that begged for words of rebellion. Did he know what he was doing? Or was he really just that clueless?
"It hurts," I said slowly "knowing that I won't see them until . . . until . . ." I left the sentence open. Obviously, I meant until the 74th Hunger Games. But the audience would think that I meant in the afterlife, which was much better. The less they knew, the better.
"I understand, completely," Tom ventured to sit beside me, and placed a hand on my shoulder. I shot him a look of pure warning, and he shuddered slightly, withdrawing his hand, tail shaking nervously. "Erm . . . Lystra . . ." he said, trying to recompose himself. I could practically feel him melting under the effect my eyes were giving. "Tanner . . . Tanner, tell us about Tanner."
"What is there to tell?" I asked, looking away from him and into the camera lense. I could see my reflection there – a powerful girl with persistant eyes and deep anger . . . but in there . . . there was also infinite sorrow. It almost shocked me to see how deeply my pain showed. "I have lost the love of my life. No one else can compare."
"N . . ." Tom was working up his courage "Not even Wild, Wild Tom?" he winked at the camera. I turned to him, shooting him another look.
"No."
I can practically hear the hooting laughter of the Capitol in the background. Tom looks hurt, but I know it's just a staged face. "Are you sure? Because I'm single!" he again winked at the camera.
"I'm sure."
"Positive?"
"Positive."
He let out a fake sigh of exasperation, and I knew the audience was hooting with laughter. I shot him another warning glance, and he moved on to the next question.
"So, Lystra, what do you think of this party?"
Rayne's POV
I was so extremely tired . . . the world was an endless flash of colors, and I floated through them, completely at peace . . . I never grew tired of the endless sleeping or dreaming . . . it was all one peaceful moment. . . Was this death? If so, I didn't know why I was so scared of death before. It seemed perfectly peaceful and nice . . . I didn't have to worry about Panem or the Hunger Games or my friends and family anymore. I didn't have to worry about hunger. Those were all behind me.
This was lovely, to have no worries.
Ah . . .
Lystra's POV
It was past midnight, and Tom was still interviewing me. I kept yawning, hoping he'd take a hint, but the guy was too numb-skulled to notice that I wanted to get away. Finally, Kayton came to my resque.
"Lystra," she walked up, hand on hip, glaring at the camera. "Time to go back to the train. Emerald will have a fit if you don't get your beauty sleep."
It was amazing how she got me out of the situation, and charmed the camera as well. Tom chuckled loudly, winking at me. "Well, we can't have that, can we?" he asked, with another wink at the camera. "Well, this has been Wild, Wild Tom with the victor of the 24th Hunger Games, Lystra Fay Gull."
"C'mon, Lystra," Kayton helped me up, taking Sparkle from me. I was glad – the child had gotten a bit heavy. As we walked away from the party, several more reporters tried to approach me, but Kayton and I waved them off, yawning loudly and stretching. Hopefully, they would assume that we were going to bed.
When we reached the train, I put Sparkle in my bed. Kayton and I stared at each other a moment, and then I sighed. "Well, we know the plan," I said. She nodded.
"Will you be able to do it?" she wanted to know
I shrugged. "Depends. Maybe."
She nodded. "Good luck. Bring her back, all right?"
I nodded. "I will."
"Bring who back?"
Kayton and I both jumped at the sound of Sparkle's voice. The child had sat up in the bed, rubbing her eyes. "Bring who back?" she asked again. Kayton and I exchanged a glance.
"Sparkle, remember when I told you that I had to go wake someone up? And that they would come home with us?"
"Rayne." She remembered. Fine memory, that child had.
I nodded. "Yes, Rayne. I have to go get her now."
Sparkle lifted her arms towards me. "Me go too."
I shared a glance with Kayton. "No, Sparkle. I have to go alone. You can stay here and sleep."
"No," Sparkle crossed her arms. "No sleepy. Want to see Rayne."
I sighed, looking at Kayton for advice. She leaned over Sparkle and said, "Well, Sparkle, I'm not going either."
Sparkle met her eyes. "You not?"
Kayton shook her head. "No, I'm not. I'm going to stay here and get ready for Rayne. Would you like to help me?"
"Help." Sparkle repeated, eyes lighting up. "What I do?"
"You could go ask the cook for some food," I suggested "I'll bet that Rayne's really hungry."
"I hungry!" Sparkle grinned. "I get cookies!"
I nodded. "Cookies and anything else he'll give you. Enough for Kayton, Rayne, me, and you." I touched her nose when I said 'you,' and she giggled.
"For!" she cried, counting on her fingers. "One, two, tee, for!" Kayton and I both laughed, but suddenly the room became very serious.
"No one can know Rayne is here, Sparkle," I told her "you cannot tell anyone."
Sparkle looked confused. "Why?"
"Because . . . because . . ." I looked at Kayton for prompting here. I didn't have any idea what to tell Sparkle – the truth wouldn't do.
"Because she's playing a game," Kayton said.
"Hide and seek?" Sparkle giggled.
"Yes, hide and seek," I told her "and she's hiding, so we can't tell anyone, all right?"
Sparkle nodded obediently. "All right."
"Good," I stood and turned to Rayne. "The room's de-bugged?"
She nodded. "Completely, as well as the hall and the entrance room."
"But for how long?"
"In the room, it's permanent, but the hall and entrance room is until 5 a.m." she gave me a worried look. "Is that long enough?"
I nodded. "Perfect."
"Yay!" Sparkle clapped her hands, bouncing up and down on the bed "Hide and Seek! Hide and Seek!" she giggled, falling onto the bed.
"Shh," I told her, picking her up. "Careful, little monkey. We don't want you to fall." Then I sat her down and glanced at both of them.
"I'll be back," I promised. "With Rayne."