Chapter Two
He had almost forgotten that it was his birthday today.
He had told his friends that he was turning eighteen. They believed him. The citizens of the capitol were so stupid. He definitely preferred District 4. He used to like District 13, but that was before it was demolished.
How old was he today? 273? 274? He would need to check his journal. This one was starting to yellow, too. He made a mental note to buy a new one.
His room in the Capitol was extravagant. A large bed, an expensive computer, posters on the wall. It made him angry when he remembered the one he had in District 12. Ah. District 12. Now there was something to be remembered. That was the longest he had ever lived in one place. But the coal mine he had been working on exploded, and everybody was killed. Except him, of course. He had raised some eyebrows when had walked from the flames completely unharmed.
He even remembered the days before the Capitol. He hadn't lived through much of it, considering they had taken over when he was just 25, but he had lived through some. He remembered the people. They just wanted to save the human race, he knew. He even remembered his mother. Almost.
That was long past.
His family would be waking up soon, he thought. He remembered that there was a reaping today. There had been 73 hunger games, and he always attended the reapings. In his 274 years, he had gone to 8 hunger games. Of course, he had won all of them. Nobody seemed to notice that it was the same victor. It wold be so easy to connect the dots, considering that every one of them had died a week after winning. He hated faking his death, but it had to be done.
He fingered the vile of golden blood around his neck. It was only half-full. He had used the othere half as ink for a small tattoo on his wrist. It said: ∞. That pretty much summed up his entire existence.
He would die someday, of course. There wasn't a doubt in his mind about that. If you don't believe you will someday die, what's the point of living?
He couldn't stay for much longer. He packed up his possessions. He had many, but he only brought the ones that would last 20 years, at least. They all wore out, after a while. The stuff. The people. Panem. Life.
He slipped out the door. It was too early for anybody to notice he had gone.
Primrose Everdeen woke up looking for her mother. She heard her breathing next to her, and relaxed. Then she scanned the room for her sister, and she almost had a heart attack.
She was gone.
Relax, she told herself. She's probably just out hunting.
That was not the case. Prim and her mother searched the house top to bottom. Katniss was nowhere to be found. The had to go to the reaping without her.
Prim was so upset, she barely heard the words being spoken. Barely heard her name being called.
Gale Hawthorne was also looking for Katniss. He didn't see her anywhere. But he had assumed she was there, and assumed she would volunteer when Prim's name was called.
"Primrose Everdeen," repeated Effie. Prim timidly started to walk to the stage.
"Wait! I volunteer!"
Gale turned at the sound of the voice, but even as he did, he knew it was not the voice of Katniss. This was not the voice of a sister in hysterics without any other choice. This was not the voice of somebody who had no idea what was ahead of her. This was the voice of a brave girl saving an innocent she barely even knew.
He recognized it before he saw who it was.
It was Madge.