A/N: OMG GUYSSSSS HAVE YOU SEEN THE EFFIE, CAESAR AND HAYMITCH PICTURES?! They're gorgeous and she's just far too pretty asdfghjkl… fangirling very hard right now :D Anyway, I will try and control my fingers to type the correct words for you so here is chapter 16.
"Dad,"
His body lies on the concrete of the road, bloody, dishevelled and lifeless.
"Dad please, you need to wake up." I press my fingers to his neck for what must be the fifteenth time in the last minute, leaving two smudges of blood behind. Either mine or his, I'm not sure.
I look over to where the car is overturned, flames angrily lapping at the sky. The strange thing is I don't even know how it happened, one minute we were driving along the road to my Aunt Oppia's house and the next my head was against a smashed pane of glass.
My eyes are clouded up with tears and I can't see anything but blurry shapes. My head begins to pound and I bring my hand up to the large gash running across the length of my forehead. I manage to make out my mother who is limply sat up against a lamp post, unconscious but alive, which is more than I can say for my father. He's dead but I won't let myself admit it because as long as I don't, then there is still hope.
"Please, you can't leave us. Dad, please!" I'm hysterical now and tears are running down my cheeks and on to the ruined silk dress, stained with blood and some sort of black dust that seems to be raining down from all directions.
The ambulances are coming, I can hear them but they're too late. Too late to save my father.
He is looking skyward, his once lively deep blue eyes now dull and lifeless. I take hold of his hand in the two of mine but he doesn't squeeze it reassuringly as he used to when there was something wrong.
There is a pull at my arm and I look round to see a paramedic asking me to come with him.
"No, I can't-I can't leave him."
"Miss, please you need to come with us, you're hurt and you need attending to."
"No, please don't make me leave him. I don't want to leave him!" I scream hysterically and thrash around when two other paramedics try and take me away from the body of my father. More uniformed attendants crowd round his body, obscuring my vision. I try to get to him again but I feel a sharp jab in my arm and look down to see a rather large syringe filled with some sort of blue swirling liquid.
Almost instantly my body feels as if it is being weighed down with lead and floating at the same time. I topple backwards but I am caught before I can hit the ground.
One of the paramedics gets up to leave and suddenly it's not my father lying lifeless on the ground. It's Haymitch, looking just as he did on the day he won the Quell, his innards visible from a cut across his stomach.
Despite the odd feeling taking over, I manage a strangled cry.
"Scream all you want, it won't bring him back."
I recognise the voice and when I turn around, I see that it is no longer a paramedic holding me firmly by the forearms, it's the President.
"You know you can't love him, don't you?" he asks me as though I am some incompetent child but I don't reply.
"You are breaking all of the rules; it is against the law – an act of treason. I don't want to hurt you but you are leaving me with no other option." His grip around my arms tightens with every word until the pain is almost unbearable. My arms are covered with more blood than before and when he withdraws his hands I see that it was his fingers digging into my skin that has resulted in the intolerable pain.
There is a brief moment before I hit the ground full on when I hear what one of the paramedics has to say.
"Time of death, 14:21pm."
That's it – hope is gone.
I sit bolt upright in bed, clutching blindly at my arms. I breathe deeply and switch on the small bedside lamp, the room flooding with warm yellow light.
I examine my arms and see fingernail marks left all over the surface, some appear to have cut through the top layer of skin.
I have been having nightmares ever since Haymitch left a few days ago and briefly touching the stone cold covers on the other side of the bed only reminds me of his absence.
I am counting down the days to which I will finally be able to get out of the Capitol for a while. I am set to leave for Twelve in five days' time to help with Katniss' bridal shoot. It would've been sooner if she hadn't caught some sort of inconvenient illness but I suppose one cannot help these things.
I arrive early in the morning and then leave the same night on the first train back to the Capitol which is a shame as I wish I could stay and busy myself with things. Busying myself is my own peculiar way of coping with stress, which sometimes backfires and makes me even more stressed than I was in the first place.
I look at the clock and see that it is a little before dawn so take a quick trip to the bathroom and sit outside on my small balcony with a cup of chamomile tea.
In the surrounding sky-rise buildings, most of the curtains are still drawn indicating that most of the city is still sleeping. This thought is somewhat calming, a city that seemingly doesn't sleep is sleeping.
After I have watched the sky change from deep Egyptian blue to a sultry shade of lilac and then to a crystal like ultramarine, I decide to dress.
Cinna has asked me to meet him in his studio to have a look at the numerous wedding dresses he has made for Katniss. I would be lying if I said I wasn't about as excited as a child in the world's largest candy store.
I choose a dress with sleeves in hope that it will conceal the marks on my arms.
"Cinna, these are beautiful" I breathe completely transfixed on the six beautiful gowns in front of me.
"Thank you Effie," he says in his habitual gracious manner and I can't help but smile. I think it is beyond this man's capability to ever be in a bad mood.
"Can I touch them?" He motions for me to do so and I run my hands over lace, velvet and satin but I am utterly transfixed by one dress in particular.
It is made of heavy white silk that darts in ever so slightly at the waist and has sleeves that brush the ground at the tips. The fabric feels a little thicker than all of the others and it feels like it has more than one layer but under closer inspection all I find is more silk and more pearls.
"This one is my favourite," I state matter of factly and move to sit down in one of the chairs dotted around the avant-garde studio. "I'm not sure if Katniss will be able to choose."
"She won't have to," he goes back to sewing the hem up on a delicate lace gown.
"Pardon?"
"After the shoot photos have been approved and released, the President has ordered for a vote to take place for citizens of the Capitol."
I nod and watch as his fingers work with the greatest precision as he finishes sewing the fabric and ties the thread in a small, tight loop.
"Has the President seen the dresses yet?" I ask and he shakes his head no.
"He will only see the photos."
There is a pause before I ask in a childlike manner, "Will there be any fire involved?"
"I would be spoiling it if I told you but yes, I may have some tricks up my sleeve or rather Katniss' sleeve." He grins and I instantly know that he has designed the pearl and silk dress with something spectacular in mind.
"Well I can't wait to see what you have done" I say now even more eager to see what he has planned.
"It's a risk but it's worth it. Happiness is a risk. If you're not a little scared, then you're not doing it right."
"What do you mean? An 'I could end up burning Katniss to death' risk or a plain stupid risk?" It isn't meant to be funny but Cinna chuckles anyway.
"You'll have to wait and see." I frown at this suddenly feeling anxious for my good friend and colleague. Whatever it is, he must be behind it but even so, is it a risk that could get him or possibly even Katniss killed?
"You are breaking all of the rules; it is against the law – an act of treason." The words from my dream flash back to me, is what he is planning going to be deemed treasonous, a subliminal reminder of the rebellion?
First, Katniss and Peeta with the nightlock, then Haymitch and I with our secret love affair and now Cinna and Portia with some defiant wedding gown, we are all as bad as each other.
"It's spreading quickly." Says Haymitch from beside me and I take note of the red and white flashing letters on the television screen.
'Many more Districts under lockdown, expect shortages.'
The statement is simple but says enough. The revolts aren't just going to stay in Four, Seven, Eight and Eleven for very much longer. Soon the whole country will be involved in a full scale rebellion.
Haymitch seems to know a lot more than the rest of us but I don't ask, he wouldn't tell me. He insists on my protection and inculpability and quite frankly, I am growing tired of arguing with him.
He is right though; there has been no seafood, fruit or vegetables for weeks now which is a complete cataclysm especially if you have a party planned. I know of several that have been cancelled for the sole reason being that there is simply not enough food. It is a completely selfish truth because I'm sure that if all of the food in the Capitol was collected and spread throughout the Districts they could make it last a year at least.
I sit down on the sofa on the opposite side of the room and sigh. "Why is everything so messed up?"
"This country has been fucked up for a long time now, Princess." He sits down next to me and I pull one of his hands in mine and begin to trace the contours and scars with my forefinger.
"I suppose what's happening is the right thing though, isn't it?" I ask, frowning.
"Yeah" He replies plainly and I go back to drawing lines on his hands.
We sit in silence for a few minutes before I look at my watch and jump up immediately, pulling Haymitch up with me. "We're off schedule," I announce but Haymitch just laughs from beside me though I don't see how it is a laughing matter. Not being punctual is the height of bad manners.
"Well, if we're already off then it doesn't matter if we knock off a few extra minutes…" he purrs in my ear suggestively, snaking his arms round my waist and I almost give in to temptation but realise that I have a job to do, an important job.
Nonetheless I decide to put my lips just a matter of centimetres from his. "Then we will be off by even longer. You know I like to be on time."
With that I begin to head towards the front door but stop in my tracks when his hand hits my backside. I try and raise my eyebrows sternly but just end up smiling instead.
He opens the door and goes to leave but I push past him. "Ladies first," I say still smiling and he shakes his head.
"Whatever you say, sweetheart."
A/N: Well there you go! I'm sorry I sort of skipped quite a lot of time in this chapter and it's not my best by far but I hope that you guys liked it anyway. I would've updated sooner but I had my injections at school today and am finding it quite hard to type seen as I had one in each arm :( Anyway, please continue to review and continue giving me the absolutely awesome feedback and I will be back soon with chapter 17!
~H x