I look around at the dozens of people in the observation room to make sure that no one is observing me, but as usual everyone is far too engrossed in their own work to pay me any mind now that I've finished my part for the day. Good. For me and the rebels.
Using my passcode, I go through the levels of security and look through all the videos that I need to in the Districts. I'm met with the same images I've been looking at for the last three weeks. Chaos and death. Except in District 2, of course, but that's to be expected. After confirming that the Rebels in District 11 are okay, I sign off because there's nothing to report on in District 12 and I've seen enough of it for a lifetime.
The day after President Snow's official announcement about the rebellion, I gave Daphne a call about meeting up with her and a friend. She was delighted but managed to keep herself in check knowing that I was still wary about her and her group. Bringing a couple of people higher in rank than her in the rebel group, we met at her house while her parents were out and they explained to Aella and me what exactly their mission was. They defined themselves as something called "humanitarians" and that they believed everyone should be treated equally and fairly.
Despite my reservations, I found myself nodding along to a lot of the things they said and was already thinking of joining when Daphne said we should recognize the real dangers in actually joining their ranks as opposed to being mere acquaintances.
And that's when I first found out about the District 12 bombing. I was confused. So confused, that I blurted out, "But my uncle said nothing was going to happen yet."
Daphne and the two other rebels exchanged glances and I blushed angrily. No! I'm not an air headed Capitol Girl anymore! I understand that the Capitol lies to us... but I didn't think my own family would...
They went on to explain that it happened minutes after the Tributes made their escape.
"But why?"
"It was probably a warning to the other Districts, like how they always use the "charred remains" of District 13 as fear fodder. They thought the Districts needed a fresh reminder. And District 12 isn't a huge loss compared to the others."
"So have the Districts given up?" I asked.
"No, and they can't. If they do, who knows what other atrocities the Capitol will come up with to torture them."
"So they'll keep going," I said.
"...until we win," Daphne said, grinning.
Or die, I thought, but I didn't say so aloud.
"Why did you save the Tributes?" Aella asked later.
"To get Katniss Everdeen."
We frowned.
"She's the one who started all this," Daphne said.
"I thought Plutarch Heavensbee was the leader," I said.
"No, not like that. She sparked the revolution in last year's Hunger Games."
"How?"
"When she and Peeta chose to die together rather than fight."
For the third time that afternoon I found myself in a state of confusion and realized that for all the late night talks I'd had with Aella, we really had no idea about anything.
"But wasn't that just a romanticized suicide pact?" Aella asked, taking over the "stupid" question role from me.
"Maybe, but that's not all the Districts saw. Whether she meant to or not, Katniss proved that the Capitol is not all-powerful. Her attempted suicide was already an act of rebellion. She refused to comply with the rules of the game."
And finally, my eyes opened and I understood. So that's why Katniss was put back in the Games.
"The Capitol is doing everything they can think of to destroy the Districts' morale, but that's only fueling them more," the rebel woman said.
"Do you still want to join us?" the rebel man asked, after looking between us.
"I don't think I can just sit here doing nothing," I answered. "Whether I really want all this to happen or not, things are going to change."
"I agree," Aella said, nodding. "I have a brother who's a peacekeeper in District 7, but he's also sympathetic to the Districts. My parents too. I'm sure once I talk to them they'll want to help."
After that they showed us a prerecorded message of Plutarch welcoming us into the cause and giving us a brief but thorough past to present history lesson about the previous rebellion. Namely, that District 13 was very much alive and thriving and that they had been lying in wait all these years, gathering followers throughout Panem, even in the Capitol, preparing for now. So it really was true. War had been brewing since before any of us and we were but tiny branches grafted on at the last moment. Once I'd absorbed this new information, I asked what they wanted us to do now, but they just told us to wait. It's not like I'd been expecting them to give me a gun with an order to go charging into the President's mansion, but I thought all this sitting around on our hands thing was over.
Getting up to go, the woman put a sympathetic hand on my shoulder and told us to be patient. Soon enough things wouldn't be quiet anymore.
For the next couple of days, Aella and I waited for commands or something, but nothing came except a few bits of intelligence. Finnick and Katniss Everdeen, among other Victors, were safe in District 13's underground and Katniss was being prepped into becoming the face of the rebellion, but Peeta Mellark and a few others had been captured and their fates remained unknown. I felt sorry for them and everyone who had and, no doubt, would suffer even more as this played out and wondered when I would suffer likewise. It almost made me glad that there was nothing that the rebels wanted from me, almost.
But luckily I didn't have to wait long for something to do after all. My uncle called me and said that although it wasn't under the best of circumstances, he had said himself that we should live life as normally as possible, and so he invited me to start working at the station. I thanked him and told him I'd start immediately and marveled at how stupid I was that I hadn't thought about it before.
I immediately called Daphne and asked her to ask the higher ups if they were in need of someone who had access to cameras all around Panem. She called back not ten minutes after we hung up, saying a position had just opened up.
When I arrived, my uncle smiled brightly and gave me a peck on the cheek. I asked him how things were in the Districts and he told me that it was nothing that the Peacekeepers couldn't handle. He gave no hint about District 12's fate and I smiled as brightly as I could back before he gave me my tasks.
During my break, I finally found time to slip off into the observation room and was as excited as I could be. Finally, field work! But when I entered, to my surprise, I found it full of people. Usually there weren't more than a handful of employees in there at a time, and I found myself caught in a staring contest with them. They look half frightened, half ready to fight me, but when they saw it was just me, they calmed down and gently asked me to leave since they had a lot of work to do and couldn't spare a monitor.
Back at my desk, I wondered how I could get past them. I'd seen a glimpse of someone's monitor: riots at some District.
While I was thinking, my uncle came by and sat down in front of me.
"Sorry, I should have told you you're not allowed to go in there anymore."
"What's going on?" I asked him.
"Did you see anything?"
"It was like the Hunger Games."
"Yes," he said, with an ironic laugh.
"I was trying to keep it from you, but the fighting's already started. We're going to tell everyone, of course, but we just wanted to make sure the Capitol was ready first."
I nodded.
"I want to see."
"No, Helena, this is not the Hunger Games."
"I want to see, please. I won't tell anyone. Uncle Jason," I whined. "I'm a journalist."
"That's exactly why I can't let you see anything, my dear."
I pouted and pleaded a little more but he remained resolute, which reminded me why he was in charge of the station and why the President trusted him so much, so with no other choice I told him I understood and that I would stay away from any trouble. For the next few days afterwards, I started arriving early in the morning and leaving late. I watched everyone and everything that went on in the station trying to find a time when the observation room would be empty, but it never was, so I tried a different tactic. I started standing around outside as if I belonged there and was only just about to go in or had come out for a breather. Soon, Dionysus, one of my uncle's producers who was always quite fond of me, assumed that my uncle had given me clearance and we chatted right through the door.
Seeing me with him, no one questioned that I belonged there and he showed me everything. I saw peacekeepers lying motionless in the dirt with District men and women. And then I saw District 12, broken and black, it looked like the entire land had turned into coal. And the people. Dionysus started editing them out, all the skeletons and burnt flesh, what was left of faces frozen in terror and pain, but I saw them and I knew that I would never be able to forget. And that was the first mission I gave myself. I would get the original footage, all the undoctored images of the horror we'd visited on humans and I would circulate it throughout the Capitol no matter what. And then my uncle tapped me on the shoulder.
He was upset and nearly yelled at me, but after apologizing to him, he decided that since I had already seen everything and I seemed to be holding up well, I could join the media team as a creative consultant to rework footage to be shown in the Capitol. And I've been doing a very good job ever since. I managed to download the original footage and pass it on to the rebels while advising my team on how best to present videos so as to boost Capitol morale and demonize the Districts, while minimizing any sympathy that may be felt toward our enemies. I also check on the rebels in the Districts and pass on their status to Daphne who passes it on to whoever.
The day after my uncle sent our tampered footage to the President for approval, they aired it, saying the district had presented the clearest and most present danger to the Capitol and so with no other choice, the government had defended us. As if a bunch of coal miners had the tools or capabilities to do anything like that. But everyone ate it up and were thrown into fear, jubilation and hate. Everywhere I go, people are badmouthing the Districts, to say the least. My mother curses them every day and I listen, nodding along. Sometimes I imagine the day my parents find out about my involvement with the Rebels. Whether we win or lose, I will probably lose them. When I'm disowned, maybe I can live with Aella.
In other news, the Capitol continues to use my face to make videos and the things that my image says make me cringe, because they're exactly what I thought of the Districts not that long ago. After I tell Daphne this, that very night my account disappears and at least that's one thing off my mind, which is a very good thing health-wise. White hairs have been popping up all over my head and I've been having stomach ulcers so I'm back to dying my hair (though it's the same as my natural color) and popping pills, which reminds me of how weak I am and is also oddly comforting too, since it shows that although I'm still disconnected from my emotions, they're still here, somewhere.
As for Aella, as she predicted, all of her family joined the rebels too. She's been in constant contact with her brother and we don't see each other too often. Though the last time we met was the other day when I snuck her a video of her brother. He looked like he was holding up pretty well and she and her parents were really grateful.
After logging out, I say goodbye to my team and that I'll see them tomorrow. They barely look up. Nowadays they like keeping busy. I think it helps them feel like they have some sort of control over the war. It's late, but we had a full day today and I had no time to do the rounds earlier. I just hope my uncle's left. Unfortunately, he greets me as soon as I step out.
"Ah, Helena, you're still here? Well, perfect timing!" he says. "It's starting!"
My smile looks more like a grimace, but he doesn't notice as he puts his arm around my shoulders and guides me to the large TV at the reception area where Peeta Mellark sits beside Caesar Flickerman for, who knows? His last interview? My uncle told me about it just this morning. He said he was under strict orders not to tell anyone about it. If he had I would have been able to tell the group about him and maybe saved Katniss from any psychological and emotional torture that she might be going through.
He looks well. Like, full-body-polish well, which is fantastic, but thoroughly baffling. For one video, all of my equipment was confiscated and I was almost turned into an avox. Peeta Mellark is far more dangerous. He's the husband of the face of the revolution. What are they planning?
The things he says must be heartbreaking, but within the stillness in the office I see no sympathy for him, but I see now that he's the most noble person I have ever known with his dedication to his wife.
"...You have to imagine that in the past two days, sixteen people have died—some of them defending you... as bad as it makes you feel, you're going to have to do some killing, because in the arena, you only get one wish. And it's very costly."
"It costs your life," Caesar whispers.
"Oh, no. It costs a lot more than your life. To murder innocent people? It costs everything you are."
"Innocent," someone says, spitting out the word. There are murmurs of ascent, but despite their feelings toward him, they're too curious about what he's saying to drown him out.
Everything he is, I think. So who is he now? Who are all these rebels? What is the Capitol? Who is the President? Who am I? Who are we who've allowed hundreds of children to die? Aren't we far worse murderers than Peeta? No wonder everyone has to take sleeping pills, no wonder we always have nightmares and try so hard to look beautiful with pounds of makeup and surgery. No one wants to face their true selves.
As I contemplate, Peeta gets more and more agitated on screen, talking about the rebels. Does he really believe that Katniss is not associated with them?
"So... you're calling for a cease-fire?" Caesar says.
"Yes. I'm calling for a cease-fire."
I'm stunned and if I wasn't leaning on my uncle, I would have sunk to my knees.
"What?" I say.
Luckily, no one hears me, as the office has erupted into discussion.
"Is this a trick?"
"Well at least Peeta's got some smarts. Hopefully they'll listen to him."
"Before we blow them all up."
They won't really listen to them, will they? They can't.
I pull away from my uncle and escape outside to where Perseus is waiting for me.
The next day I hear from Aella that everyone is furious at him.
"He must have been coerced," I say.
"Then he's a coward. Who knows what kind of impact this will have on the Districts!"
"He's been in the hands of the Capitol for the last month. Who knows what they did to him?"
"Why are you defending him?" Aella says, her frustration at me evident.
"I don't know. I just don't want to make judgments anymore without knowing everything first."
I play back the interview again. As I was watching it, I remember that I felt that something was a little off. I go over what I remember him saying in my head until I figure it out. The way he spoke about the Quell, it sounded like it had just happened. Didn't he say something like, the last two days? For a moment it makes me doubt him too. If they had only just captured him, they must not have had time to really do anything to him. So why did he sell out? But as I'm about to concur with Aella, I think of something else.
"I think he did that interview right after the Quarter Quell Fiasco. So of course he must be confused and upset. He was separated from his wife and unborn child. He just wants them safe. That must be all he's thinking about. He's trying to protect them. She's safe with us, but if we lose, the Capitol will still want her head. Maybe he's trying to appease them."
Aella doesn't seem convinced and after thinking over my reasoning again, I'm not all that convinced either. Maybe I'm just projecting myself onto him, but even I, who was completely against the Districts, changed.
When we hang up, I slide down on wall in my room and sit on the floor.
"Peeta Mellark. What are you going through?" I say to myself.
And then gasping, I sit up.
That video was made a month ago! So where is he now?