I'm not so sure about this chapter. This is where things get, well, interesting. It's where I branch even farther off of Twilight and stop following the plot of The Hunger Games. Originally it was titled "The Epiphany" but... there weren't as many revelations as I expected.
The Unexpected
Before the other Tributes, wild eyed with envy, can mar our success with their stares of pure hatred, Effie takes us to the elevator. It seems to be made of crystal. The floor is a white shaggy carpet, the kind you might expect in a utopian space-city. She daintily presses the button. Haymitch is last in, seeming more utterly sober than I've ever seen them. The doors nearly close on him. It's then that the elevator shoots upwards as we watch the people below transform into specks. I glance at the number. 112, although the buttons 1-100 are marked as off limits for all Tributes. Okay, one floor for each District. Easy.
"Well then, here's your luck. One floor for each District, and since you're from 12, you get the pent house," she pipes happily, showing us in as the door opens. More of the same carpets, concrete in the uber-modern living room, some sort of gas that burns with blue flames on the hearth, chairs made of a geometric shape— what looks like a ribbon bent back and looped over to form a chair shape— around the glass table. Spherical glass bulbs hang from the ceiling in clusters, like our own personal stars. Modern sculptures— metallic rocks, purple disk-like structures, and miniature fountains— deck the area. A window covers an entire wall. We can see the whole of the Eastern Capitol.
Edward finally speaks to me. I've been so utterly astounded in the past few minutes that my mind has been beyond comprehension of coherent words.
"Isabelle?" he asks, breathless if it's possible for a vampire. I nod.
"It was Cinna's idea. Isabelle, the girl on fire." He smiles. We're beyond the cameras, I suppose. I continued with the act on the train, though I don't really know why. Maybe I was too devastated to be myself. But now that we have another week together— hardly forever, but worth it nonetheless— I know I trust Haymitch and, marginally, Effie to know that we're more than friends.
"Isabelle," Edward finally says. I take a deep breath, gazing into his eyes, before Effie clears her throat. We've stopped a few steps from the table, and Haymitch glances back at us. When he catches the way Edward and I are still looking at each other, he claps and clasps his hands together and throws his head back laughing. Edward glares at him.
"It's perfect," the previously drunken man says. "Now that's something to work with, sweetheart!" He actually embraces me, then Edward. The table is set, overflowing with food and drinks, and Haymitch snatches a bottle of Italian wine off the table. He throws his head back again as he takes a gulp, straight from the bottle, and then declares, "Magnifico!" to the heavens. "Excuse me, I don't usually use Italian, but that's the type of wine." He shows us. "Magnifico, 2786. A good year, not that I'm that old. . . but anyways. . . magnifico!" He actually embraces me, then awkwardly hugs Edward, holding the wine to the side as he does so. "Now. . ."
Haymitch gestures to the empty seats, which everyone else— Cinna, Portia, Edward, Effie, and me— shuffle to and sit in. Despite their unorthodox shape, I take a moment to note their utter comfort.
"Now this, is something I can sell," he says, sitting down. "Just take a look at the two of them, Effie! Surely even a Capitol idiot like yourself— no offense, Cinna, Portia— can see this! Look at them! We've given them something to root for!"
"And what's that?" Effie sniffs, asking the question on everyone's minds. Haymitch rolls his eyes.
"Young love."
Shock. Confusion. Fury. Hope. They cycle through me all at once, but I think that I can understand Haymitch's point. The Capitol will easily romanticize Edward and I in the hopes that, somehow, one of us will live. Which we won't. But the sponsors it would gain for us would keep us alive for a few days at worst. Cinna jumps into the conversation.
"How did you two meet?" he asks.
"School," I reply honestly.
"No, no, no, no, no, you two met when. . . when you fell out of an apple tree. You glanced up and there was Edward. Ok, Isi?" says Haymitch.
My name stuck. I'm Isi and Isabelle but not Bella, although I suspect that Haymitch came up with that on his own. My cheeks flame from his nickname and I know he's not going to stop using it anytime soon. I nod and look away.
"I said, 'Excuse me, are you alright, ma'am?" says Edward.
"No, no, not quite right. Isi?" asks Haymitch, looking for suggestions. I shrug.
"Hello, Bella. . ." Edward begins.
"Isabelle, is the name we're going with," corrects Cinna. "It fits the stage image."
"Ah, we'll work on their first lines later," says Haymitch. "They both love each other, but they don't know it yet. Edward is going to confess his love to her and the whole of Panem during the interviews in a few nights. Bella is going to be sitting in one of the chairs in the distance. They'll cut to your face, back to Edward, and then the show will end. With the star crossed lovers from District 12. Isn't it perfect?"
He and Cinna continue this line of conversation for what seems like hours until the first course— as the only thing sitting out was wine— finally arrives. It's an appetizer. There are ten meats and ten cheeses to choose from, along with a basket with an assortment of breads. As usual, Edward doesn't have a single bite. Effie looks incredibly annoyed with him. Portia glances at him with understanding and begins taking some of the food off his plate while Effie isn't looking. Portia knows his secret. I can tell by the way she sits on the very edge of her seat so she's farther away from him. He shakes his head at her and blinks, drawing attention to his eyes, which she has trouble meeting. Finally, when Cinna and Haymitch have exhausted the subject of the star-crossed relationship, Effie, who looks like she's about to explode from an entire appetizer without small-talk, changes the subject.
"So, Portia, how long have you and Cinna been together?" she asks. Portia's eyes widen.
"Oh, Cinna and I, we're not. . ." she glances down at her hand, which has been, without her notice, linked with Cinna's for the past few minutes.
His glance falls to it as well, and they simultaneously look up. They linger, just eying each other, until they both look at Effie. Even Haymitch smiles. Edward grins. He's been listening to this for the past several hours. It must be a relief to be out of that tension.
"A. . . uh. . ." she turns the uh into the a in about, ". . . Bout five seconds," she finally responds.
Everyone releases a slight chuckle at that, followed by a lot of smiles. Portia's sapphire makeup is fading amidst the scarlet bursting into her cheeks. Edward looked at me that way, when we first met, in the blush of new love. It was right when we had broken the thick layer of ice between us, when I began sitting with him at lunch and when he took me to the meadow. Thinking back on my life with the Cullens, I wonder if I'll ever write it down for someone in the distant future to read. I suppose all great stories of life are like that, like novels. For Cinna and Portia, I know that this is the start of one.
The evening drags on until they bring the entrees— mushroom soup. Everything here is so rich. One of the servants offers me a glass of red wine. I almost decline, but I suppose I'll never have a chance to try it again. It's rather dry as I take the sip, and a bit sour on the aftertaste. I take another one, and this time a horrid thought occurs to me. I've woken up when I've bitten my cheek in a nightmare before. I know what it tastes like. And this glass of wine reminds me of cold blood.
I barely manage to swallow after that. Some of it leaks onto my chin, and I quickly wipe it away before I can panic. I'm not sure what bothers me so much about the thought, but it's like a food reminding you of something it shouldn't before you can stop yourself. I order a glass of champagne instead, hoping I might forget about my thought altogether. I do not.
About halfway through the glass, I begin to feel foggy. I reach for it again, but Edward's hand stops me. I glance at him. He shakes his head and I sigh. I look around and discover that the world is spinning.
I'm not the least bit interested in the talk, which has gone from dull to far beyond dull. Something about costumes and the costumes for our interviews. I don't bother attempting to focus on it, I just stare at the wall and focus on the sensation of Edward's hand in mine. I only have a week left to enjoy it. Someone finally brings out the last course. A dessert. A feminine hand sets the cake aflame with a special match. The blue flames stack higher and higher but never quite reach the ceiling. Then again, I'm doubtful, not wanting any more alcohol. "What makes it burn?" I question, slightly slurring my words. "Is it alcohol? I really don't wa— oh, it's you!"
I know I've seen the redhead before. The dark crimson hair, the features and porcelain white skin that should belong to a vampire, and, most of all, the deep emerald eyes that seem to bore straight into my soul. It's only then that I realize my mistake. I'm not supposed to say anything to these people. She's an Avox, a traitor to the Capitol who's tongue has been cut out and who are sentenced to servitude until they're no longer useful. The expression of utter terror and panic that covers her face only adds to the recognition.
"Isi!" Effie chides. Evidently it's my official nickname now. "It's an Avox and not even human, not really. They have genetic reprogramming to make them more submissive and completely and utterly obedient to me. I'm sure they could get over it with therapy, but. . . You're not supposed to speak to those things unless it's to give an order!"
I shy away from Effie. I'm backed into a corner. Because I have seen this girl before. And it was under illegal circumstances. I can't tell them how I know her. The adults are watching me like vultures. Suddenly, Edward snaps his fingers.
"Jessica Newton." A mixture of Mike and Jessica. Nice, Edward. "They're practically identical," he says. I pounce at the opportunity, though I say as little as possible. I'm a terrible liar, and I know it.
"Oh, that's who I was thinking about! It must be those eyes." I hope I don't sound too out of character. I've been told that's what gives my lies away. I would never say most of them if I were telling the truth.
Everyone breathes a sigh of relief, including the redheaded girl. She eyes me sadly, though with a faint smile at me. A thank-you-for-not getting-me-in-trouble kind of look.
When dinner is over, I speed off to my room. The bed is plush, there are thousands of buttons on the shower, the window may as well be a television, and everything is beyond perfect. I try a particular pattern of soaps, lotions, and scents in the shower before taking a quick dip in the hot-tub-like bathtub. I need to clear my thoughts. I know where I saw the redhead. I just don't know what Edward and I can do about it or where we can talk about it.
As I lean my head against what I have nicknamed the de-tangler, a device that runs a current of water through your hair to brush and wash it at the same time, it hits me. I heard he and Cinna talking about the roof, where it's "very windy." No one would overhear us. I dress in something comfortable and slip outside. I ask Edward if he'll join me on the roof. He says yes.
Once up there, I can see what he's talking about. The wind is severe, and I'm almost afraid of falling off. The place is essentially a rooftop garden. Plum trees, apple trees, raspberry bushes, and, naturally, flowers. A garden swing creaks from the wind, and chimes hanging on the trees trill their little song. I step towards the edge and gaze down at the city below.
"Aren't they worried that a Tribute might jump off?" I ask.
"Mm... not everyone jumps off of things when their boyfriend breaks up with them, Bella."
"This is the Hunger Games. Teenagers are trying to kill each other. It's more than just a little high school drama. What if a Tribute jumped off?"
"You can't." To my surprise, he snatches a rock and tosses it off the side. The electric current, visible in the air, slows it down and tosses it back up, directly into his hand. He smiles. "It throws you back."
"Could I try?" I ask.
Edward laughs. "It hurts." I don't think the pain was the funny part... I push my hand towards it and jerk back. My fingers are numb. I shake it off. Plant boxes, a each a couple of feet apart, rest around the edges of the roof. I sit down and curl up against one of them. Edward sits by the one across from me.
I know he wants to talk about the redhead girl. He spotted she and another boy racing through the woods. We talked to them for a few seconds and pointed them North, towards the remains of District 13. They had told us thank you and dashed away. An hour later we saw them again. They screamed "run" at us. We obeyed and found ourselves under a tree. We watched in silence as it happened. A hovercraft materialized, the boy was speared from above, and the girl, shouting something, was lifted away.
"They caught her," I whisper.
"Yes," he states.
"Do you think we could have saved them? Brought them underneath something?"
"Well, we didn't save them. But yes. Probably."
"Avoxes... they're never spoken directly to, and they can't talk themselves. They must feel like they're trapped in a box or something," I say.
"I hear them," he replies. "And yes, they do. And her name is Lavina, if you were wondering.
"Was she from the Capitol?"
"Yes. She ran away."
How does he—
"She thinks about it often. But she doesn't regret it."
"They were going towards District 13?" I ask, still hushed.
"Yes."
"What were they looking for?"
"They were looking for rebellion. Whispers had... crossed over to the Capitol in the form of rumors. A Tribute probably knew, they told their version of Effie, and their version of Effie would tell most of the Capitol. Lavina heard about it from a faded old letter, partially, written from a Capitol resident to the mayor of District 13. But the date was from after the District was obliterated. She had hope. False hope. But she didn't want to marry, apparently, so she took with her her one true love. The two of them made it to District 12. They had almost gotten to where they were going when the hovercraft appeared. She is still plotting escape to 13, even if there isn't anything there."
So close, reaching but never reached. I wonder if I would have done the same, if Charlie had arranged a marriage for me while I was still in love with Edward. My instincts say yes, in a heartbeat, but I don't know how, if I were born into this Utopian city of endless wealth, I could ever leave on little more than a whim.
"The boy... does she think about him often?" I ask.
"Danaus," he says. I nod. I don't know why I want to be able to put a name to his face. I feel like his blood is on my hands, and thinking of him as a person only adds to my guilt. It's like I've swallowed a rock.
I lean in a little closer to Edward.
"Do you think we're going to survive?" I ask tentatively. He looks directly into my eyes. He then slowly shakes his head. I nod, closing my eyes.
"Portia will cover for me. But tomorrow they will check my vitals. Unless they already know, which is more than likely."
"Who would tell on you?"
"Effie. Maybe a member of my prep team. A doctor checked my nonexistent pulse before and her first thought was 'vampire.' She probably told someone. I'll no doubt disappear tonight. If I'm 'lucky' I'll be back in a few days with... mmm... 'severe health concerns.'
"Edward..."
"They think vampirism is just another virus to be cured."
"It's not like that."
"They don't know that."
"Then run," I tell him. "Just take off running through the forcefields and clear the city as fast as possible. You can survive in the mountains. There's plenty of wildlife."
"I volunteered my life so I wouldn't have to leave you."
Irate, I can hardly help but scream at him.
"I don't want your life! I want you to live! I don't care if I have to die, but I am not going to let you sacrifice yourself for me! I'm not worth that." I'm furious suddenly, and I've given up on keeping my voice hushed. I stand as quickly as possible, and Edward, irises dark as obsidian, glares at me.
"You are so worth my life, Bella! You have a soul and I've lost mine, and you are so worth it! You're worth this and so much more!" he shouts.
"I am not! I'm human. I'm nothing. I'm just the clumsy girl who couldn't... couldn't fumble with a flyswatter enough to swat a fly without killing myself in the process!"
"Isabella Swan you are..." he shakes his head and looks at the ground. When he looks at me again, his eyes are radiating ebony. "Everything to me. And I will die to keep you alive as long as possible during the Games!"
"Why? Why do you love me?! And, most importantly, why would you die for me!" I demand. I am not worth it.
"Because you've given me no choice!" he roars. "I love you, Bella, because you gave me a life. You gave me a choice. The choice between being a monster and being who I want to be. But you've taken that away and are forcing me into this!"
"I'm not forcing you into anything!" I shriek. "No, listen to me!
"I will fight for you 'till the end of my existence. It's time you accepted that."
"Well, maybe..." through gritted teeth, I falter."Maybe I'm not as fragile as you think I am."
"You are fragile, Bella. I could still kill you, right here and right now. It could even be an accident."
"Let me prove myself. In training this week. I'll... pass every obstacle."
"I'll be gone by then."
"Fine. I'll just... jump off this roof!"
"Then apparently you are one of the people who would jump off a building when their boyfriend breaks up with them."
"I'm pretty sure we've already established that!" I shout above the gathering wind. A sudden gust knocks me over, though in the opposite direction of the ledge, and Edward catches me by my arm. We both look into the wind, and see that a storm is gathering. The tempest swirls around me, catching my hair and pushing it into my eyes. I turn to Edward. "And... are you saying that you're breaking up with me?!"
"Of course not! Bella, you're human, you're fragile, and I couldn't leave you if I wanted to! What are you trying to do here!"
I sigh. "I'm not strong, but I'm not pathetic." I spit the last word at him.
"I know you're not pathetic."
"Yes, but you don't believe it. I'll prove it to you!"
Thunder roars. There's no rain yet, but judging by the endless gales assaulting me there will be some soon. The chimes are rocketing so furiously that it begins to sound demonic.
"There's nothing to prove!" he shouts.
"Oh, there is!" I am going to jump off this building. Stupid? Yes. But he needs to know.
"Bella, what will it prove."
"That I have something that can protect me."
"And what's that?"
We stare at each other for a long time. "Bravery," I finally say.
"I know you're brave, Bella. But you don't have to do this! It will do nothing!"
I draw a deep breath and turn my back to the ledge. My hair pushes against my shoulders from the wind in this direction. I sweep my tresses behind me. "You and I," I sigh, "Both know that we can't win these Games," I breathe, panting. Air that rushes fifty miles an hour is difficult to catch. I exhale in a deep sigh that accents my next words. I step back towards the ledge. "I know that I can't win these Games. So this is what I'm doing. I'm going to prove to you that, even though I know I can't win." I take a few steps backwards. "So this is me proving to you." I put my foot back again, and my heel slips. "This is me proving to you that I'm not afraid to try."
I lean backwards and slip through the air. After less than a second, I panic. I tumble back through the wind, completely out of control. Then comes the pain. Friction. Heat. Slight burning. I press my lips firmly together. I can't scream. I try to straighten myself out, and I end up in a dolphin dive towards the ground. My speed doesn't slow, it increases, the concrete rushing towards me. I brace myself, though I stay in position, for making an impact in the pavement. The forcefield hasn't caught me. I'm going to die, I'm going to die... Then I scream. The tempest swallows it. I make no sound. The forcefield begins to pull and push me back up, like a net, and, a few feet from the top, it flips me over to my feet and, perfectly, onto the ground. I land in Edward's arms, an embrace, looking down at the land below that I came very near to.
We stand there for a few seconds, and he mutters to me,
"Don't do that again."
It was almost... fun. I didn't die by any means. If I were still obsessed with adrenaline, trying to see visions of Edward, I would do it again. I swallow. No. I will never do this again. I pull back from him, he ensuring that I don't fall again, and I examine my arms. Surprisingly, I don't have a single bruise. Nothing hurts.
"Do you believe me now?" I ask, completely breathless.
"I'm not leaving, if that's what you're asking. But yes. You are brave."
"I did that to prove to you that I'm not afraid to die. I'm ready. Just leave. Live."
"To a vampire, life without one's mate is... empty."
I think of Esme, now little more than a hollow shell. "I know." I glance back at the ground. "Why did I do that again?" I ask. Edward laughs.
"I honestly have no idea. And you probably gave Alice a panic attack." Oops. I just realized that now. He strokes my cheek almost apologetically. "I think it's time for you to go to bed. You need sleep."
"But—"
"It's fine..." his eyes widen. "Bella! Bella, run!"
Confused, I turn around to face seven Peacekeepers. One of them grabs me, locking his fingers around my neck. I yelp and try to twist out of his grasp. This fails and I stomp on his foot. Finally, one of them presses a gun to my forehead.
"She will come with us, Vampire," says the one standing in front. "You will comply or she will die."
The man holding me takes several steps back. He's soon out of striking distance if he values my life. Which he does. Edward makes a move toward us. The man tightens his grip on me.
"Comply," demands the leader. "Comply or we will eliminate her."
"She's valuable to you," he purrs. Do vampires really have hypnotic powers? I'm not sure how anyone could resist his voice.
"She is replaceable. As are the men surrounding her. Don't try to run, we have this floor secured."
I hear frantic footfalls, echoing up and down the staircase and into the night. I manage to twist enough to see Lavina standing in the doorway to the stairs. Her mouth is open. She is as panicked as I. The Peacekeeper closest to her grabs her. She gasps and then shrieks, almost an animal sound. She, too, tries to break out of his grip, she with more success than I. She darts to Edward, then turns to him. Her eyes wide, she seems to be begging.
"I won't let harm come to you for seeing something classified like this. You cannot speak, and for once this is to your advantage. You pose no threat to the Capitol. Eliminating you would be impractical. Correct, Jaime?" he asks the head Peacekeeper and promises the girl.
"Indeed," he says. "The Avox poses no threat. Unless of course, she attempts to assist in Isabelle's escape."
"Lavina. Don't try to help me. Just go downstairs and forget you saw this. And Jaimie... I will let you go in peace if you promise not to hurt Isi." Isi. I think that's my name for while I'm in the Capitol, now. "If possible... I am prepared to go in her place."
"Edward, no!.. where am I going, anyways?" I ask stupidly.
"I don't know. Our intelligence would suggest that Edward has the ability to read minds. I was not told about your fate to keep the secret. I assume you will survive. You are a Tribute, after all. If it makes you feel any better, our orders were to collect every Tribute except for Edward Cullen. He is to remain in our special handcuffs for the next two days. He will remain in one room in one place in the house under careful supervision. He will be allowed to speak to others, but he will also play by our rules and will not attempt to bend them," Jaimie says.
"Will B— Isi be alive and well when I see her again?" Edward asks.
"I cannot guarantee it. If something does happen, you will be the twelfth to know." The Peacekeeper smiles. "Sedate her," he orders one of his men.
My breathing quickens, I feel the sharp, cold pain of a syringe in my neck, and the world goes black.
I know, cliffhanger, I'm evil. I don't intend to disappoint. The next chapter is very short, but very important. I'll see you Sunday (I hope).
Hope you're still enjoying this story!
~Sun