A/N: I can't believe it's been almost six months since I started this story! Wow, it doesn't feel like December at all. Anyway, I hope y'all like this update. The actual arena part of the 25th games will be next chapter. Sorry it seems rushed, but we've already gone through two whole games so I don't want it to be too repetitive. It's more about just seeing the outcome because it will lead to some other major events. I know that doesn't make sense yet, but it will soon… Reviews are always welcome :)
There are some things that can't be understood until you experience it. A parent's love for their child falls under that category. I never had a doubt in my mind that I would love my child or that unconditional love exists. I've learned there are many types of love, and the feelings that go along with each can't always be put into words. They have to be felt because descriptions do no justice.
I already knew the distinction between my love for my family and my husband. Having a baby opened up another window inside me that I didn't even realize was there. I would do anything for my son. I don't know how to put it any other way. Devotion, pride, adoration. Which word fits? When I see him, I see purity and innocence. I see what the world should be, and I want nothing more than to take him away from all of this and shield him forever. I'm so grateful that he's still too young to know the truth.
I can't believe it's been nearly four years since Destan came into my life. He's growing up too fast for my liking, so I make sure to spend as much time with him as possible. It's a good thing that neither Alec or I have to work to support ourselves. Keeping up with Destan is a full time job, anyway. It's all worth it, though. He deserves to have a good childhood.
So far, Destan has had as normal a life as we could possibly give him. His favorite color is red and he can count to ten. He loves going out on the boat with Alec. The only places he knows are Victor's Village and the beach. He likes to play in the sand and jump and climb. No matter what he's doing, he always, always finds a way to make a mess. Sometimes it drives me crazy. I wasn't very happy when I found permanent marker drawn all across the wood floors, but then I realized I couldn't stay mad at my son for long. I'm still going to love him no matter what he does.
Being a mom isn't easy, but it's gratifying. There's something about it that feels like the most natural thing in the world. It's nice take care of the ones you care about the most.
"Destan, what do you want for supper?" I ask, poking my head out of the kitchen into the living room where he is playing. I get a little panicky when I see he's balanced on the back of the sofa, wobbling as if he might fall any second. "Destan Kyle, what did I tell you about that? No climbing up there!" I say, scooping him off the back and bringing him gently down to the floor.
"But it's part of the game. I'm being a fishingman," he says, holding up a rope. Lately, his new obsession has been the fisherman that always line the docks of Four. "Look, there's the fishes," he explains, pointing to toys scattered on the floor.
I kneel down to his level. "Okay, but maybe you can fish from the floor instead. I don't want you getting hurt," I tell him.
"I can't fish in the water, Mama. Now we're both in the water," he says with a frown. I look around the room and try to picture it from his point of view. The wood floors make up a vast sea filled with fish and the sofa is a sturdy boat.
"Well then we'd better get back on the ship," I say. I take his hand and we both head back to the sofa a pull our legs up off the ground. "What next, Captain Destan?" I ask.
The makes him smile widely, and I'm taken aback again by how perfect he is. He's a mess, but he's mine, and I wouldn't want him any other way.
I drape the rope down to the floor and play along with his imaginary scenarios. After we're attacked by a sea monster, I dramatically fall over off the sofa. "Oh no! I'm going overboard!"
Destan giggles a bit at that. "Me too!" he says, his expression stunned as if he's in shock, but once he's on the ground, he's rolling over laughing.
"That's enough of that, Captain. Time for supper," I remind him.
"Where's Daddy?" he asks. He gets up and walks around the room, looking behind curtains as if Alec might be hiding there.
"He went pick up something from Uncle Kallan. He'll be back soon."
As if on cue, the doorknob turns and we hear the squeak of the door opening as Alec comes in. Destan runs to him immediately and holds onto his legs.
"Hey there little guy. Look what I got for you," he says as he pulls out a faded red hat from behind his back. I love watching the two of them together. I think Destan looks like his father. Of course, his face still has baby roundness, so it's a different shape than Alec's, but I can see similarities in their expressions. He got green eyes from Alec's side, too, although his are a different shade of green than his father's. They are a little lighter; nearly the same shade as the water where the ocean meets the shore. Alec says it's the same green he used to see in his mother and half-brother's eyes.
I watch as my child pulls the hat over his face. It's much too big for him and it falls down to his nose, but it's obvious he loves it. He starts telling Alec about our game in a series of reenactments.
"It sounds like you two did a lot in the past hour," Alec says.
I nod. "Yep, I got attacked by a sea monster and fell overboard today. I'm pretty exhausted." I look around at the mess that's still on the floor and realize I don't feel like cleaning it up. A clean house is a lost cause with a three and a half year old around.
Destan continues with his game because he apparently has boundless energy that us adults don't have. I curl up on the sofa next to my husband and study his expression. He's staring across the room and I know that look on his face. I can tell he's thinking about something and he doesn't want me to be able to tell what it is.
I brush my fingers lightly over his arm. "What's going on?" I ask.
"It's probably nothing. Kallan heard there's going to be something on TV tonight," he says, still staring across the room.
"About what?" I glance back at Destan quickly to make sure he's not listening. "Did something happen to one of the victors? Another 'accident'?"
"No, I don't think so. Kallan thinks it's something about the Games."
"Oh," I say. I'm not sure what to make of that. "I don't understand. They never made an announcement before."
"Look, don't worry about it. The Games aren't for another two months, anyway. They're probably just changing gamemakers or something," he says to calm me.
We speculate quietly though dinner and the rest of the evening until the TV switches itself on. Destan pushes the hat up out of his eyes and points at the screen. "Ha, look! That man is green!"
I can't focus on Nathaniel Flickerman because I don't want Destan hearing this. He doesn't know anything about the Hunger Games and I don't want him to start asking questions yet. "Come on, Captain. Time for bed," I say.
His gaze shifts from the screen and he looks up at me, his little brow furrowed in confusion. "No it's not. It's early" he says.
"Nope, it just got late. Remember that story of the spirit of the sea? You know, the one who takes little boys who don't go to sleep on time? Time for bed," I say.
"But I'm not tired," he pouts.
"Come on," I say, lifting him up and carrying him to his room. I pull the red hat off and smooth his ruffled brown hair. After I've tucked him in and put pillows around the bed so he doesn't fall off, I kiss his forehead and turn out the light. As soon as I've closed the door, I speed back downstairs before I can miss anything else. "What did I miss?" I ask, out of breathe.
"Not too much. Snow's coming on now," he answers.
Sure enough, the young president is on the screen. "Can you believe it? It's been twenty-five years since the Dark Days ended and this new era began. Twenty-five years of peace and order kept stable by the annual Hunger Games. This year, we celebrate the past and protect the future," he begins. Alec and I share an expression of distaste, but we don't say anything.
Snow continues on. "As time passes, new generations are born. The adults of today were very young when all of this began. We've grown up with the Hunger Games, but not all of us were there to see what led to them. What about fifty years from now? One hundred? How will we preserve the meaning behind the Hunger Games so that the future citizens of Panem remember why they are necessary?"
"Where is he going with this? Alec asks, and I shrug.
"We need to be reminded. Twenty-five years ago, crimes were committed by the rebels. Crimes so harsh, it's painful to remember. But we must, and the districts must continue to pay penance for these crimes. To keep the memory fresh in the minds of generations to come, each twenty-five years will be marked by a Quarter Quell. For each Quell, there will be a special twist added to the Hunger Games. That brings us to where we are today. Please bring the box."
Wonderful. A twist to make the Hunger Games more horrifying than they already are. I don't remember anyone mentioning this. I try to think back to that hazy childhood memory of the first Games announcement that has stuck with me all these years. I'm almost positive no one said anything about a Quarter Quell. Yet, when a small boy carries the box over to the president, it's filled with rows upon rows of cards. Decades, no centuries of Hunger Games. Never-ending.
I squeeze Alec's hand and try to control my breathing. Snow is taking forever to take the card out of the envelope, dragging it out to the point of being painful. Whatever is printed on the card is going to affect me and my family in some way.
He finally gets a hold of the card. "Now, on the twenty-fifth anniversary, to remind the rebels that their children died because of their choice to initiate violence, each district will hold an election and vote on the tributes who will represent them in this year's Hunger Games." He pauses to let it sink in. "Also, because of the nature of this year's theme, no volunteers will be accepted." He smiles after the words are out and his lips look puffier than I remember. It's sickening that he takes joy from this.
Having districts vote on the kids that will be sent to their death is revolting all on it's own. Yet, I feel a little relief. It may be a selfish, but my natural reaction is to be glad that it won't hurt me or my loved ones in any way. For once, I'm glad Four is a career district. There are already kids who want to be sent to the Games, so no feelings will be hurt. They get what they want, and the reaping will probably end up the same as it would have without the twist.
As for the poor districts…this news will hit them hard.
"Everyone should know to vote for the careers," I say. My tone isn't happy, but I'm not distraught either.
"Yeah. I think the school has a few eighteen year olds now that were going to volunteer anyway. They have no idea what they're getting themselves into but that's not our problem," he responds.
"It kind of is. We have to mentor them," I say softly. It occurs to me again how long it's been since we've had a victor. Our tributes made it to the final four the last three years in a row, but something always stood in the way of one of them being crowed victor.
Maybe this year will be different. The career school has been open for almost ten years. Most kids start around age eight, so the ones who have been training from the beginning are at the perfect age now.
The election is held a few days before the reaping. I do some research and find out that I will be mentoring a girl named Saphira. She's tall and athletic and skilled with a whip. So when I go along with all the other adults in District Four to cast my vote, there's no question in my mind whose name I will be writing.
It's an unwelcome surprise when I learn I have to reconsider everything seconds before voting.
Alec and I are right behind the mayor in line when he turns to talk to us. "Got your votes ready, victors?" he asks. He's always seemed nice enough, and I think he's become more mellow as he's aged.
"Sure do. We're voting for Eloy and Saphira," Alec answers him.
"Saphira?" the mayor asks, his expression one of disapproval. "Why, didn't you hear the news?"
"What news?" I ask.
"The girl just found out she's pregnant. We can't send her to the arena like that," he explains.
I'm a little aggravated that I'm just learning this now because I thought I actually had things planned out for once. "Who are we supposed to vote for, then?" I ask, not doing a great job of hiding my dissatisfaction.
"From what I hear everyone's going with Raini Vala," he says. I've learned not to trust gossip and I don't remember anyone named Raini being in the oldest age group, but I don't know what else to do. It's too late to research anymore. Soon I'm called into the tiny voting room that is stocked heavily with peacekeepers. After I write the boy's name, I stand there with the pen clutched in my hand, still unsure on which girl name to write.
"Hurry up," a peacekeeper growls and gives me a firm shove. Alec would probably overreact if he saw that, but I choose to ignore it. Writing down a pregnant girl's name would be unforgivable, and I can especially sympathize with her since I'm a mother myself. That leaves me no choice but to write Raini Vala. I place the ink to the paper and write the name slowly and neatly. She's a career, so she should be expecting this, right?
Apparently not.
When Isidora pulls the slip out of the reaping ball and reads Raini's name, I see a girl in the sixteen-year-old section jump in surprise. She looks around in panicked confusion before her face sets into a cold, unreadable expression. I watch her carefully as she walks up to the stage. She has auburn hair and she's thin but well built. With each passing minute, I can see more and more anger seeping into her expression. I'm pretty sure she's glaring at someone in the crowd.
Her male counterpart is Eloy Wasson, just as expected. He looks almost relaxed as he stares out into the crowd. I've seen him training and I think he stands a decent chance. One thing that caught my attention about him is that he isn't a show-off like some careers. Strong, yes. Lethal, yes. But he's dignified at the same time. I'm glad we have someone mature representing us.
As usual, we have some time before we have to leave. Alec takes Destan out on the boat while I pack some suitcases. I write a few notes for my parents since they will be here babysitting for the next month. It's always so hard for me to leave Destan to go on these trips. When he was a baby, he couldn't question it, but now he's at the age where he wants an explanation for everything. Most of his questions involve the word "why", and I don't always have an answer. He's going to want to know why we're leaving again and I'll have to lie.
In some cases, lying is better. He'll know the truth when he's older, and by then he'll realize ignorance is bliss. I know he'll be safe while we're gone because he always is. It's just so hard knowing I'm too far away to protect him if something were to happen.
"Be good for Granny and Pawpaw. We'll be back before you know it and we'll be thinking about you the whole time because we love you," I tell Destan when they get back.
"Why do you go then? I don't want you to," he frowns. It hurts my heart.
"We have to, baby. I promise we'll come back," I say.
"If I be good will you stay? Please?" he says in the most innocent voice ever. I feel awful.
"It's nothing you did, little man. It's just something we have to do," Alec says.
My parents arrive and I have to hand him over. I can hear him crying as we walk away, and every instinct I have tells me to go back there are comfort him. I stop after a few feet and start to turn around. "I'm just going to be a minute," I say.
"Mags, that's not going to help. He'll be okay. You have to let go, at least for a little while," Alec says, holding my arm to stop me from going back. I sigh miserably in defeat.
I at least try to look positive when we go to meet the tributes. I'm almost certain it's Alec's turn to mentor, but there's no way Kallan is missing out on the Quarter Quell. Both of them go to greet Eloy. Surely they'll work out the mentoring plan on their own. There's no question that I'll be the one mentoring the girl. As the others exit the room to take a tour of the train, I approach my tribute.
"Hey, Raini. I'm Mags and I'll be mentoring you," I start my standard greeting. Before I can go any further, the auburn haired girl stops me with a question.
"Did you vote for me?" she asks bluntly. There's no hint of shyness in her voice.
I think back to her shocked expression when her name was called and I feel instantly guilty. "I was told that was the plan," I reluctantly admit.
She must take my answer as an indication to not trust me because her blank look is replaced with a glare. "I'm not supposed to be here, you know. It should have been Saphira."
"Saphira's expecting a child. It wouldn't be right to send a pregnant girl here," I say gently.
"Yeah, sure. She's not even pregnant. She made that crap up," she snorts and walks away from me.
I follow her. "How would you know that?" I ask. I'm thinking Raini is probably just in denial, but her claim catches my attention.
She spins around so fast it startles me. "Because poor Saphira is always the victim! She wanted the spotlight during training, but oh, once she found out she was getting picked it was excuse after excuse. She's too in love to leave her boyfriend one day and the next she has an ankle injury. Always something! Guess she saw the only way to get out of it was something extreme, so she claimed to be pregnant. Just watch, a few months from now she's going to tragically lose the kid that never existed!" Her voice escalates until she's nearly screaming.
I start trying to calm her, but she's not done. "And then they picked me! Let's all ignore the fact that there are girls older than me who have trained longer. Oh wait, we can pick someone to die? Why not Raini? It's not like-"
"Whoa, hold on a minute. Calm down. I'm sure people only picked you because they felt like you could survive. You're a career. Shouldn't that be a compliment to you that people think you're stronger than the older girls?" I say reassuringly.
"I don't know. Why don't you tell me, since you voted for me and all," she snaps. Obviously, it's not a literal question.
"Look, I'm sorry you're in this situation. I know it sucks, but you have to realize this isn't my fault. I'm trying to help you, and it will be much easier to get you out of that arena if you cooperate with me, " I tell her.
"You must not be too much help since no one's won since you," she mumbles.
Ouch. That stings. I'm tempted to go into defensive mode, but I have to remind myself that I'm almost twice this girl's age. I hold back my comment about her playing victim and decide to be mature. "You don't have to accept my help. I'm going to try anyway," I say flatly.
The others come back from their tour, saving me from any further argument.
Isidora bounces into view, "I thought I heard screaming? There's no reason for anyone to be unhappy. This is a glorious experience and such an honor to take part in the first ever Quarter Quell. Come on, let's eat!" she announces. She must be in her late forties by now, but she has remarkably avoided aging the past thirteen years. The only difference I can tell is her makeup is thicker and I suspect she's had a few alterations.
Alec and Kallan find her annoying, but I mainly think she's funny. Unintentionally funny, but still funny. I know she means well, so I don't mind talking to her about things as long as they aren't too personal.
"This should be a fun year," I say sarcastically.
"What, the girl? Oh, that's just how some teenage girls are! My niece is the same way," she brushes off my concern.
For a minute I'm glad I won't have to deal with a teenage daughter. The terrible twos with my son were bad enough. Regardless of that, looking after teenage girls isn't a new thing for me. Some aren't so bad, while others are almost impossible to deal with. Raini falls under the latter category.
Every morning, I have to drag her out of her bed as she clings onto the frame and refuses to budge. At every meal, she sits at the table in silence with her arms crossed. It isn't until we all get up that she will grab food and run back to her room. I get complaints from Lilith and the prep team on her noncompliance. Before training, I spend thirty minutes going over a strategy I have for her. As soon as I'm done talking, she says, "I'll do what I want," and walks out. Two out of the three days, I find out she's ditched training after lunch.
She is impossible. It takes all of my strength to put up with her. The only person she somewhat responds to is Kallan. I consider handing her over to him and calling it a day, but I haven't given up on a tribute yet, and I don't plan to. If someone were in charge of Destan's survival, I would want them to do their best no matter how hard he was to deal with. Raini might not appreciate me reaching out, but at least her parents will. I don't even fully understand what her problem is. If she never wanted to go to the Games, why did she sign up for the career school? One thing's for sure: I'm not getting any answers out of her.
The only time I see something beneath the rebellious exterior is when training scores are announced. I don't know what to expect because she wouldn't tell us what she did for the gamemakers. When a nine flashes across the screen, her whole expression lightens and she looks like a kid who just woke up on the morning of her birthday. We all congratulate her, and we even get a half-hearted "thanks" in return.
Not the biggest accomplishment, but progress is progress. Soon it will be time to see this year's arena, and there's really no telling what it may be. Odds are it will be worse than usual to make the Quarter Quell unforgettable. That's not something I'm looking forward to, but the sooner this is over with, the sooner I can get back to my life.
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Imhungergames: I'm not sure if you are to this chapter yet but thank you so much for reviewing! :)