Katniss

I sit across from my mother and next to Prim, who has refused to be parted from my side for the past three hours. I have spent the entire time in my compartment, assuring myself that Prim is real, that she is here and safe.

When I first saw them as I broke through the doors, pushing rudely past the Peacekeepers and just generally ignoring all sorts of general courtesy—Effie would be appalled—Haymitch, who'd been behind me, had had to pat me in the back several times as I struggled to breathe. One guard even threatened to have me sedated when I all but toppled Prim's wheelchair over in my excitement.

Haymitch had then made known the extent of his colorful vocabulary as he proceeded to kick out the guards that had been following me.

Thankfully, my sister has escaped with minimal injuries. Prim was thrown backwards in one particularly widespread explosion, and had hit a still-standing pillar with full force. Her back was bruised, and her head was bandaged. According to my mother, she'd received a mild concussion upon impact, but had not suffered loss of conscience, and was still very much alert now. Despite this, however, Coin has ordered her to be confined to a wheelchair until further notice—which in itself is ridiculously concerning, since I'm sure that Thirteen would never spare such an expense to an injury such as this one, which is no longer life-threatening.

My mother, on the other hand, had ushered Prim away with Gale's family—yes, the Hawthornes have also made it out alive and well, and are probably greeting Gale even now—and had stayed back to tend to the major injuries caused by the other explosions. The hovercrafts kept zoning in the area, though supposedly only a handful of them were actually dropping bombs anymore. Apparently someone in the Capitol had thought it unnecessary to waste any more power on a defeated people.

They kept wasting the energy, though. And my mom paid part of the price for it.

Because Twelve had no designated hospital, everywhere and anywhere was a healing room for my mom and for Prim. While Prim had—predictably—been dragged away by Rory and Vick, my mom had set up shop in an abandoned cottage not far into the woods, where some of the stronger, surviving miners had been carrying the wounded victims. Of course, the pilots would have to be ridiculously stupid to not realize what was going on in there. Because of this, one of them flew into that area and dropped not one, not two, but four bombs along the perimeter. The idea was not to give them a quick, easy death, but rather long, drawn-out burning.

How's that, Girl on Fire?

With bombs blasting force at the makeshift hospital from all four sides, the people trapped inside had had to retreat to the central room of the ground floor, which was the small supply closet underneath the stairs. There had been 14 wounded, 5 able-bodied miners, 2 family members, and my mother. The eight people who could actually walk properly had dragged the victims into the closet, and the family members had then joined them, though supposedly they were protesting quite vehemently. As they had been safely tucked away inside, the miners had all wordlessly agreed to shield the only woman left—my mother. Three of them had died in the explosions; one had been rendered unconscious. My mother and the remaining miner had been blasted from their spot by the stairs, the miner landing in the no longer existent kitchen, and my mother being blown onto the steps. She also had back injuries, like Prim, though hers were much worse.

Her entire left side is bruised, her right side with only a mild yellow-green tint to it. According to the doctors here and on the hovercraft that transported them to 13, she had two cracked ribs, which would explain her difficulty breathing on the ride here. Upon arrival, however, she was ushered straight to the hospital side, and is now sporting some sort of thick white bandage around her upper torso. This makes it difficult for me to hug her properly, but we can both still feel the emotion.

Presently, Prim is telling me about the few wounds and victims our mom allowed her to tend to. By the proud smile on my mom's face, I can tell Prim did a good job. She was probably assigned to the smaller injuries that happened in the beginning, rather than the more devastating results that my mom had to deal with. I force a smile on my face as my little sister describes some of the more gruesome injuries she was ordered to deal with. How is it that she is stomaching this better than I am? I wonder silently, raising a cup of water to my lips.

"…and the infection was spreading already, but he was reacting really negatively to the medicine I was trying to give him," she continues to ramble on, oblivious to my discomfort. I give her an encouraging nod, subtly pushing away my dish. My mom catches this and smirks, and I can't help but realize that this is the first time in a while that I've seen genuine emotion on her face.

Then again, I must admit that this is also the first time in a while that I have seen her. How long has it been? A week? Two? Probably. Nothing compared to the Games, of course, but every day I spend away from my family is excruciating to say the least.

"How have you been?" Prim asks enthusiastically. "Is it nice here?"

I shrug, unsure as to how to respond. No, it isn't exactly nice here. Everyone looks at Gale and I, as well as the other new arrivals, as if we've already committed a heinous crime, when we've actually been dragged here without our consent. Gale isn't talking to me at the moment, though that has more to do with us rather than the place. My good pair of boots has been recycled, and I've received these hideous replacements that might even be worse than the boots I had back in 12. Also, the food is even worse than the boots.

On the other hand, however, I don't want to discourage her. Though she appears mature and everything, I still don't want to worry her. I know she's afraid; hell, she's borderline terrified. Her sister's gone missing for a week only to pop up in a place that wasn't supposed to still exist, and her home has been bombed by Capitol hovercraft and reduced to ashes. She's already been through a lot, and the last thing I want to do is further worry her.

Then again, I should always stick to what I know best.

"No."

Prim looks crestfallen, and I almost apologize and retract my words until I realize I have nothing better to tell her if I do.

My mom, on the other hand, groans and shuts her eyes. I still refuse to make any sort of amendment, though; sugar-coating reality will not get us anywhere.

There's a heavy silence blanketing the table for the next couple of minutes, as I stare at my food, seeing if there's any chance that my appetite will return through sheer willpower. No such luck, though. If anything, it only serves to repulse me even more. It sickens me how I've become so used to being pampered by the Capitol food. Feeling my stomach lurch at the thought, I force myself to pick up the fork and shovel some food straight down my throat, not bothering to chew out of fear.

Finally, my mom's the one to break the awkwardness. "So I've been offered a position here," she comments nonchalantly, though the slight shake in her voice immediately betrays her nerves.

Prim pipes up expectantly, curious as to this new development. I have to admit I'm extremely curious myself. I've only been offered the extremely vague position of Head Rebel, which isn't particularly entrancing to me. How is it that, less than 24 hours from their arrival, my mom's already been requested for a job? "What do they need?"

She clears her throat anxiously, forcing herself to meet my gaze. "They've offered to keep me as a trainee healer for a few days so that I can work in the hospital wing."

"So soon? You think you'll be good enough after a few days?"

Her gaze hardens. "Don't insult me, Katniss, you know I'm not an amateur."

"I know, I just—"

"I just need some time to adjust to their equipment before I'm ready," she explained, sounding tired. "And I've already said yes."

The wheels in my head slowly begin to turn. "Why are they recruiting medics?" I wonder aloud. "Thirteen is not exactly an accident-prone place, and bacteria seem to die of claustrophobia."

"What's claus—" begins Prim, her brow furrowing. I cut her off with a wave of my hand, not in the mood to explain.

"There are no injuries here," I raise my voice, my heart starting to beat just a bit faster. "And even the few that there might be, I was under the impression that they had enough healers already, not to mention healers that have been trained exclusively for this. So why are they recruiting more? Unless…" For a moment, I swear my breath has been cut off. I stare blankly at my mom, who starts to fidget under my unforgiving glare. It's not difficult to piece this together. If they need more medics, it can only be because… Because what?

Because they'll be sent to the front. Because the action's getting started.

My eyes immediately snap back towards my mother, who is so tense that the strain in her neck is painfully evident. "Tell me you'll be in the Thirteen healing wards," I growl in a low undertone. Prim winces at the threat in my voice, but I'm too focused on my mom's reaction to help soothe her. "Tell me you won't be going to the front."

"I—Katniss, I'm not even a healer yet, there's still—"

"No!" I shout, standing up. "Don't feed me that bullshit, you would've been told already if you were going to the front! And you are not. Going. To the front!"

Prim is watching us, her neck turning back and forth as she tries to keep up with the argument. Undoubtedly she is concerned, both for the angry way I'm looking at our mother and for the insinuations I'm making of her new little job. "Katniss, is—"

"Prim, I love you, but don't say anything right now because I just—I can't," I snap, standing up and storming out. I'll probably have to come back and apologize in a bit, but not until after I've made a little visit to a certain woman's office.

Stomping out of the cafeteria, I nearly crash into Rory Hawthorne, who had been, until now, charging into the cafeteria. "Hey, Kat—" he begins enthusiastically, though I brush him aside coldly, making a mental note to address him properly later. I look around us and see all the Hawthornes, minus Vick for some reason, and concern flares up inside me before I see Hazelle's relatively peaceful expression.

"They're inside," I inform them, already starting to move away. Gale doesn't meet my eyes, but at this point I don't care. Surely we can put aside that argument for now; there are more important things happening. I grab his arm and pull him with me, ignoring everyone's protests. "You. Come with me. Now."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I AM ALIVE!

No, actually scratch that. I am vaguely conscious after a semester of the IB Diploma. It's terribly, terribly stressful—and add that to personal shit and it's a surprise I'm still breathing. But anyways, I won't say I'll update soon because I don't know if I will, but I'll definitely try to not update as late as I did this time! Please review! (:

WHO WATCHED CATCHING FIRE? Wasn't it amazing? I'm still raving about it to anyone who will listen! [Plus did you see those Everthorne kisses? Damn damn damn!]

OVER ONE HUNDRED REVIEWS WOW WOW WOW THANK YOU!

Love Always,

Andee