Accessing the Inaccessible
Planets collided in the time it took to meet Seneca's eyes. He waited for my answer with heated anticipation, his eyes seeking for an answer in mine. I bit my lower lip, feeling the normal waxy texture growing raw in accordance with the cold night air. The moment grew awkward; the pause pregnant with anxiety.
"Seneca."
"Wait," he rose to his feet, straightening out his crumpled pants.
I wanted to get away from him. So many emotions, so many plans, hopes, dreams, thrown over the balcony and curb-stomped by my hesitance. Seneca turned away from me, resting his hands on the guard railing. My hand jetted toward him, then stopped in mid-air.
"I am so sorry," was the only thing that I would utter.
He chose not to acknowledge anything, surely moved to anger or unhappiness by my doing. I felt awful. The whole mansion seemed to turn dark, clearly disapproving. I could not take it. Opening the balcony doors, I crossed into the dining room. The once gratuitous dinner table turned foreboding. I went into the guest bedroom and sat on the bed, folding my hands in my lap.
Plan time. I need to infiltrate President Snow's mansion. I do believe that my mission can be accomplished alone. Seneca surely will not accompany me now. Do I even want him to? Alfie cannot come back.
I would be lying if I said that at that moment I was not annoyed by Seneca's actions. I mean, to propose marriage at such a ludicrous time? The concept was absurd, so absurd that it angered me. I made up my mind. I would go solo and receive all the condemnations alone. A knock on the door fought for my attention.
"Effie?"
"Please just leave," I whispered inaudibly.
"Effie."
The door opened. He stood there, his normal stance obstructed by negativity. He dared not approach me without a sign. When our eyes met, I had to look away.
"What did I do wrong?" he asked in a voice so quiet that I was not sure that he had said anything at all.
Of all the things I wanted to say, only one won out.
"Wrong?"
"Wrong?" he repeated, clearly confused.
I spoke to the floor, "Everything is wrong. However, you are not the cause. Not the only cause, at least."
The words sounded offensive, even to me. He recoiled at bit, but regained his act.
"I do not follow," he tried.
"How can you expect me to marry you at a time like this? Everything is just wrong. Take a look around, would you? We are alone! Do you understand? We cannot be married at a time like this, when everything is falling apart," my temper leveled on rage.
He absorbed my abuse like a sponge. With his canon personality, he spoke calmly, which infuriated me further.
"What do you not understand? The time for pleasantries, sweetness, innocence has ended. This is a war, Seneca. Leave your smooth talking at the door, and give me something real. I am going to the President's mansion to find out the truth. Yes, I may be killed or hijacked, but that is a small risk compared to this life that I am living," I snapped.
"But why?" he hastened, "What is wrong with the life we could have here? The life I can provide for you. Effie, we can be happy together. We can get out now, just walk away cold. You and I could have it all."
I stood up, my ambivalence over. I slid past him in the doorway, brushing his hand unintentionally with mine as I crossed. He motioned to stop me, begging for a few more words. I gave him only a statement.
"Having it all just makes it easier to lose everything."
He received the words like a strike. A strike to the heart. I had no time for crushed toes when the anvil hung over our heads. I conquered the steps and left the mansion without another word to its owner. In the distance, the President's mansion stood proud, glowing with life. My vendetta had taken course without ammunition, allies, or organization. For all I cared, I could break open the gates and simply run in, grab the essay, and destroy everyone inside. I had the wherewithal to take down anything in my way.
The chilly night air bit me. I swatted fronts away like mosquitoes in a swamp. Of course, there were no visible perpetrators. My journey to the mansion was not an easy one. For the umpteenth time, I cursed my absurd fashion sense. In the Capitol, nothing seemed practical.
When I finally reached the large border set around the structure, I realized that access was impossible. It would be easier to march straight up to the door and attempt to sell some obnoxious type of cookie. Infiltration was made unreal by the barbed spikes on top of the border, the armed patrol officers securing the lawn, and the number of invisible threats nearby.
"Come on," I urged angrily, "There has to be some way inside."
The border was full proof; not a flaw to be seen. Besides, the metal of the border stung my hand when touched, providing a numbing sensation. I wondered if that metal contained something chemical or if it was just the cool air on the cold material. The gaps in the border looked harmless, but closer examination showed them alive with electricity.
The surrounding buildings looked ominous. Jumping over the fence was out of the question. I was running out of options. There was no way through the border due to the electricity; no way over due to the barbed spikes, and digging under would take a millennium. Finally, I made the executive decision to reveal myself and ask to speak to the President. It was a long shot, a stab in the dark, and a needle in a haystack. However, it was the only way to gain access to the mansion.
"Hey!" I called to the patrolling guards.
One of the uniformed soldiers came over and checked me out.
"Get lost, kid," he snuffed, showing me some menacing weapon.
"I believe your men are looking for me," I spoke curtly, "Effie Trinket."
"What?" he asked stupidly.
"Are you thick? I am Effie Trinket. I demand to talk to President Snow," I ordered.
"Check this out," he barked to another soldier, pointing to me.
"What is it?" the second-in-command asked.
"This girl demands to talk to the President. Says she is that Trinket kid," he laughed.
If he were on my side of the fence, I would knee him in an unpleasant area.
"Well, is she?" the second asked, not finding his superior's sense of humor funny.
"How should I know?" the superior asked, scratching his face.
"Do you have any identification?" the second asked me.
"No. I demand that you allow me access to Snow this instant," I grew infuriated, "You come after me and my family, and you two idiots are denying me access now?"
The soldiers looked at one another and shrugged their shoulders. After minutes of freezing, they finally talked it over and decided to let me in. Who were these buffoons? Each one grasped my arm in a vice grip, referring to me as the girl. The escorted me inside the mansion. I took a long look at the Capitol, breathing in the courage I needed to perform an intimidating confrontation. Then, we were inside the mansion, walking toward the main chamber for a late night meeting with the President of Panem.