Hey guys. Sorry I haven't updated recently. I hope this chapter is enough for you to forgive me. It's a bit longer than usual, so...enjoy ;)
Ps. Reviews make my day. Don't be afraid to tell me what you like or don't like. It is indeed useful to know! :3 love you
Chapter 7 -Why am I not Katniss anymore?
The training center is clearly not as full as it should be: at least half of the victors are still missing. Maybe they're not even planning on showing up, though I suppose they will all have to, at some point.
It's because of some kind of rule, I think.
Except the fact that, when I find out there's not even a speech planned for this morning, I am not so sure rules matter anymore. I guess that when the cameras aren't watching, we're just going to skip some of the unnecessary formalities, since we all know how it works and we all know how it ends.
Maybe we are just pretty much free to come and go as we please...
This new freedom should leave me feeling satisfied or relieved, but it doesn't, beacuse it implies the fact that this training thing is like an old routine for us...and I don't like it.
I don't like it because I can't deny it's the truth.
I do know how it works.
I do know how it ends.
The few victors already in the room are all busy with some activity but, just like some sort of magnet, she's the first one I notice.
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she is naked, again.
The sight causes me to stop dead and I let go of Peeta's hand immediately: touching him now would feel too much like a betrayal.
Johanna is oiled up and ready to wrestle. Focused. She doesn't even see me when I walk in. She's already in fighting mode. Tensed muscles, clenched jaw. Unaware of her sorroundings.
This woman will be the death of me, it's like she's doing it on purpose...
"I guess it's an habit, then".
I hear Peeta's voice in my ear, I know he's talking but I swear I can't concentrate on the words right away. It takes me some time to understand the meaning behind them and then come up with something coherent to say.
When I do find the words, they're pretty pathetic.
"Yeah. Unbelievable".
I'm glad he seems to take my reaction as disapprovement. Like he believes I am so upset or embarassed that I can't speak.
I just let him talk as I try to control my breath.
"Don't let her intimidate you" he says, and I really have to keep myself from laughing at him now.
Is this the idea he has of me?
A little, innocent girl who's killed people because she was forced to, but who is still naive enough to be bothered by the sight of a naked body?
Is he in love with me beacuse he sees me like that? Like some sort of innocent, untouchable creature to be protected from being provoked? He's not in love with me, but with the idea he has of me.
Some girls would find this romantic, I find it offending.
Besides, it's not like he is more experienced, or something. This is ridiculous. He's the oblivious one. I just want to shake him and scream: "How can you not see it? Isn't it obvious?".
But I let him think he has it all figured out, because otherwise I would't know how to justify myself...and the staring.
"So...where do you want to start?".
His sudden question causes me to finally advert my eyes from a very naked Johanna. What I find is a pretty tense but focused Peeta, ready to charm the victors with his right words and his humble personality. He's completely unaware that my skin still tingles beacuse of what I just witnessed.
So for the first time, I really take a look around. I do a quick scan of the room, careful to avoid Johanna because I need to be calm for this. I'll find a way to approach her later. And hopefully she'll be more...dressed. Because otherwise...I don't know how much self control I have left.
The training center hasn't changed that much. There are more stations than last year, but since old habits die hard the ones with weapons are still the most crowded with victors, all eagers to try them.
"Only this time they know how to use them", I think, as I see Enobaria cutting the air with her sword with such elegance you would think it's a feather and not a heavy peace of metal.
Brutus is close to her, throwing spears so fast I barely can see his hands.
I shiver.
Not my first choices when it comes to allies. Her teeth scares me to death and he has a look in his eyes like he would kill his own mother in order to survive. Urgh.
I'm definetely not a fan.
Aside from the victors' fighting skills, which are obviously going to be more dangerous this time around, I can sense another difference from last year's training. These people have known each other for years. The room is less silent and somehow more relaxed than it should be, given the fact they're all going to fight each other to death in a few days. I can even hear some laughter here and there. It makes me uncomfortable...
I realize Peeta is still waiting for an answer, so I think about it.
It's clear to me from the start that today will be agony. I know I won't be able to concentrate on anything but Johanna, so I need to find a way to be alone.
"Let's split up", I blurt out.
That was smooth, Katniss.
Peeta looks puzzled. "What? No! Why? We should be...Haymictch said...".
Fantastic, now I've hurt his feelings.
"I know what Haymitch said, Peeta, but you know it as much as I do... I'm not good with people. You are. I would be just a burden. Just...go, work your magic. I'll be there when you are back".
Apparently I am convincing enough, because he doesn't look so hurt anymore. He's almost flattered, just not entirely okay with the idea. He'll need an extra push.
"Come on, I'll see you at lunch so we can exchange our progress. I mean, you can tell me how much you charmed them all with your smile and I can tell you just how much of a sociopath I truly am".
I smile, and that's it, I know from the look in his eyes that he is going to agree.
"See you at lunch?" he asks.
"Yeah...". I assure him, trying not to sound too relieved.
When he kisses me on the cheek I feel warm and guilty, but then he is gone and the feeling goes away with him.
I watch him as he strikes up a conversation like it's the most natural thing in the world. I watch his face, soft and genuinely interested in what Seeder is talking about. There is a rare goodness in him, the one you find once in a life time. I can sense it even from afar. It's like there's always this light, this bright aurea of honesty around his persona...he is really too good to be true. To good to be here. He just has to be saved, I think, because his death would be a great loss. For me, and for the world.
I just wish I didn't have to fool him this way...
I last an hour. That's how much I resist.
I help a man with thick glasses and a weird looking woman that are struggling to start up a fire. I briefly wonder how they managed to survive in the arena without mastering such basic skills...
I catch their names: Beete and Wiress. She can't even finish her sentences, but she also doesn't have to, because he completes them for her. They know exactly what the other is thinking. It takes me less than five minutes to understand how they survived in the arena: they are the brains.
I like them, but I can't say I'm not distracted. I'd be more interested in the conversation if I didn't know that a completely naked Johanna was wrestling somewhere in this very same room.
Sixty minutes, that's how much I can take, and everyone of them feels like an eternity.
I must have a thing for weird people, because when I leave Beete and Wiress I find Mags, an old sweet, woman who can't even talk anymore. Grey hair and eyes like soft clouds, I just want to hug her. Her fragility makes me sad.
She doesn't stand a chance...she should be home, playing with her grandchildren or something. I am so mad I forget about Johanna, even if it's just for a second.
I like her though, because I know she's here for the same reason I was an year ago. We both volunteered. I took Prim's place, she sacrificed herself for a young woman I saw at the reaping of District Four. Her heart must be as soft as her eyes.
I find out that she is old, but not without skills: her snares are fantastic. They remind me of the ones Gale used to set in the woods.
Maybe I should stop judging someone's possibilities of survival so quickly...
No one in here is a victor by chance.
What I also enjoy about Mags' company, is that I don't have to do small talk. I just watch her, smile, and pick up a trick or too.
I'd be too nervous to achieve anything more, anyway.
Three thousand six hundred seconds of agony, during which I'm barely conscious about what I'm doing or saying, because I'm too preoccupied with the task of following her every movement to be focused on mine.
Johanna doesn't look in my direction, not once. And that just makes me look more, throwing my cautiousness out of the window. I almost faint in the middle of minute 45 (of course I am counting them) because I think I hear her laugh. But it turns out to be just Chaff, laughing at something funny Peeta must have said. So I frown. Mags shoots me a worried look. I shrug.
Come on, Jo, look at me...
I'm so glad Peeta and I agreed to split. It would have been so obvious...even to someone as naive as him.
After the first minute of the second hour, I give up.
I'm being ridiculous. And childish. I wanted to wait for her to do something, test her resistence, tease her? I don't know. Maybe we are playing a game. If we are, it's so bvious she's winning.
But it's also obvious I need to talk to her. I have to be the grown up and make the first move.
I just want to say hi, I know we won't be able to say much in the middle of our training session, I'm not delusional...yet.
It won't seem weird. We did agree with Haymitch that we would try to get to know the victors in order to choose possible allies, after all.
And even if talking to Johanna Mason may be perceived as weird...at this point I am too frustrated to even care.
It's just...I miss her.
I never missed someone as I miss her now. Like an essential piece I need in order to function. And it hasn't even been a full day...
It scares me, honestly, because it means I am not independent anymore. It's like that thing in the magnetic field, the one Beete told me about. I was half listening to him-half looking at her, but I managed to understand how it works.
Johanna is my chink now. A glorious, beautiful chink in my armour...but one, nonetheless.
She makes me feel weak, unfocused, clumsy, unprepared...and so, oh so alive.
It just doesn't feel natural to me, to my body, being in the same room as her and not even acknowledging her presence. This has to stop, now.
It feels wrong. And a useless effort, too, since I may not be physycally with her, but there is not a thought in my head that doesn't revolve around her. I bet Mags thinks I am crazy or something.
Maybe I am crazy.
The thought of her haunts me. Memories of last night fill my head, like sweet ghosts, and I see her silohuette under my eyelids every time I close my eyes.
So I surrender to the magnetic force I've been struggling with since I've entered the training center this morning. I say goodbye to Mags, and let myself begin to gravitate around Johanna.
I let myself get closer.
I'm buzzing, like a bee returning to its nest, as I slowly but nervously walk toward her, as casually as I can, until I can smell that pine scent that seems to follow her wherever she goes, trapped in her skin like mosquitos in amber.
I know she smells like District Seven, and people who live there must smell the the same, them being lumberjacks and all...
But, in my mind, it will always be reversed: it's District Seven that smells like her.
Even mixed with sweat, I'd recognize her perfume everywhere. It lingers on my tongue. It's burned in my nostrils, like those familiar smells you can't forget because they are inevitably connected with the most important, life changing memories you have. It's so strong and real it makes my head spin.
Now fully clothed, she gave up the wrestilng a while ago, and she is focusing on what she's best at: her axe. Watching her with her weapon, I am momentarely in awe her.
I knew she was good, I mean I watched her games and I was old enough to remember them. Plus, it's not like she is the easily forgettable type.
But, without a screen separating us, she's not just "good".
She's flawless.
Her axe is like an addictional limb to her body, or like a natural extension of her arm: you couldn't possibly tell where her hand ends and where the weapon begins.
I wonder if that's how I look when I use my bow. I strongly doubt I am that magnificient. It's like she was actually made for that axe...
I am staring, and I can tell I'm not being subtle. Not that I have been, today, but still...I'm not even trying anymore.
She's too focused on making every movement as smooth as possible to notice I joined her.
I compose myself while looking around. Nobody seems to be paying attention to me.
A part of me doesn't understand why they haven't stopped like me to enjoy the show. Maybe they are afraid of her.
Well, I suppose it's for the best...
It's time to pluck up the courage to speak to her, and having an audience would make it even more complicated.
"Hey".
When I break the silence, I am determined to sound confident. Not desperate. In control.
Needless to say, it's a complete failure. My voice comes out as shy and feeble.
It's not how I wanted to start, but -to my defense- I am so full of expectations and doubts and I just suddenly need to be reassured.
I just need her to look me in the eyes. Words won't be necessary, we've already prooved we are pretty good at communicating without them.
At first, I think she hasn't heard, and I almost speak again. But then, in a violent, swift movement, she throws her axe right in the head of a target to our left. I shiver, remembering how deadly she can be.
When she finally looks at me...I freeze.
Her eyes, yesterdey so green and real they seemed like leaves caught between mud and rain, are now hard and empty.
I wait for them to return like they were, I wait for her to recognize me.
I wait in vain.
Her eyes don't change. Her body, still tense from the tiring activity, screams annoyance at the interruption.
We are good at communicating without words, indeed, so good that when she speaks, it isn't even necessary. I know I won't like what she has to say.
"What do you want, Everdeen?".
It's like she threw an axe to my heart. Actually, I'd take the axe in exchange any time, and with pleausure. Because this...this sudden, unexplainable coldness hurts me more than any physical pain.
Her harsh tone leaves me speachless.
Who is she? What did they do to her?
"Johanna, I just wanted to...".
I am a bubbling mess. She doesn't even let me finish. I doubt I'd have been able to, anyway.
"Now it's not the moment, Everdeen".
The second time she uses my surname to address me stings even more than the first time.
To her, I was Katniss. And because of her, I wanted to be Katniss.
So, why am I not Katniss anymore?
I am too confused by everything that's happening to speak. To ask some sort of explanation. To even cry.
I just watch her as she retrieves her axe from the head of the dummy and walks away.
And I swear with every step she takes my heart breaks a little more.
The rest of training is a blur. I spend lunch at Peeta's side, not hearing a word he says, not even saying a word myself. I barely hear him as he asks me if I'm alright. It must be the third time in half an hour. I just nod.
Johanna is talking with Finnick, and it's like nothing happened. How can she be so calm? Is this a nightmare, or a joke? I want to slap her in the face for the way she treated me. I want to slap Finnick for the way he's smiling at her. Are they a couple? No, they can't be.
I don't want to look at her, but I can't stop looking.
Maybe she was just surprised. Maybe she's too scared to speak now that we are surrounded by peolple. Yeah, it must be it. There's no other explanation.
When I see Enobaria leaving and no one stopping her, I decide I should leave too.
I just need a minute to myself. I'll wait for her in her room, where I know she must return, so that we can be alone. I need time to forget how bitter her voice sounded when she called me "Everdeen".
"Katniss are you okay?" Peeta is shaking my shoulder. He's worried sick. "You are super pale...what's happening to you?".
I take the opportunity.
"I...I'm not feeling very well...do you think...they'd let me go? I just need to rest, I feel weak".
I feel his strong, callous hand on my forehead. Somehow, the gesture consoles me, because it doesn't feel remotely romantic. It's just something a friend would do.
"Go Katniss, they're not even trying to keep us here. Do you want me to go with you?". Okay, maybe this is more romantic that I thought. Why does he have to make everything more difficult. Why does he have to be so caring?
"No. Stay here. Make friends. I'll see you this evening. I just...I need to be alone".
I realize he's just being sweet and I am hurting him again with no real reason to, but right now I can't think. I can't breathe. I just need to go.
I plead him with my eyes and he understands. Free from the grip of his hand, I carry myself to the seventh floor.
I have just enough time to open the door, then a wave of nausea hits me hard. I run to the bathroom and I puke. I am burning up. When there is nothing left in my stomach, I slowly step out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, crushing on her bed. I have no energy left.
The smell is there, just as I thought. For a second, I allow myself to get lost in it and forget. I fall asleep, too exhausted to think about the consequences.
I feel a hand soflty tracing the curve of my jaw. At least I think I do.
It slowly starts from under my ear lobe and it goes down to my chin. It stops there, but just to start again.
The hand goes back and forth, always leaving a burning trace behind.
At first, I think I must be dreaming. But then I feel myself waking up, slowly and unwillingly. The touch is still there. It must be real. I shiver, a small moan slips from my mouth, giving away the fact that I'm almost awake, and that makes the hand stops its soothing movements. My skin misses the contact almost immediately and that causes my eyes to open abruptly.
Her face is the first thing I see.
Maybe it's just my imagination that makes me see the things I actually want to see, but I swear there is a brief moment when Johanna is...Johanna.
The same girl that kissed me yesterday. I can tell by the way she looks at me, of course.
Was it her hand? It must be hers. I smile at the thought, but my happiness doesn't last.
Because after a moment of heaven, it's hell in all its ferocity: I see the transition happening and it kills me.
There is a fraction when she closes her eyes, and then, when she reopens them, she is gone. The change is so sudden and radical that it makes me think I lost her forever. Maybe I just lost my mind.
I am terrified by the transformatiom. I literally see the Johanna I know disappear. I see it in her eyes. It almost scares me, how easy it is for me to read them. For the first time, I wish I hadn't met her. And I hate myself for it. This is torture, this is too much to bear.
"What are you doing here, Everdeen?".
She is still in her training clothes, her voice heavy with accusation. She gets up from the bed, almost as if she's too scared to touch me. It's heartbreaking, she is so tense, so defensive...the way you are with...an enemy. Since when have I become her enemy?
Then, I register it's the third time she has called me Everdeen.
This time, it feels like being hit in the face with cold water. It leaves me sad...but also angry. And rage blinds me fast.
"Will you stop calling me that?!", I scream. And then, surprising myself, I slap her. As hard as I can, leaving a scorching, red mark on her right cheek. I regret it immediately.
She must be surprised too, because she takes a step back, holding her already bruising cheek in her hand.
The realization of what I've just done hits me, almost bringing me to my knees.
"I'm...I'm so sorry, Johanna...just...please, just tell me what's going on...I need you to tell me what's going on".
I feel the tears on my face and I taste them in my mouth. My head is pounding and I just want to hug her, I just want her to hold me like I already know she can and tell me it's okay.
But it's evident she has other plans.
Her whole face is paralized in hatred and contempt when she tells me what she wants me to do.
"Yesteray, it was a mistake. You have to forget about it, you undestrand me? Just forget it".
I hear the words, loud and clear, but that doesn't stop them from not making any sense. Is she serious? Why would I want to forget? This is insane.
"Johanna", I insist on caling her by her first name, to make her understand I won't give up so easily on her, "why on earth would I want to forget the most beautiful thing that's ever happened to me?".
I can see that my honesty slightly affects her. It's not much, not a full reaction, it's just the way she wraps her arms protectively around her chest. It makes me hopeful. It's a defense mechanism I know well.
If being utterly sincere is what it takes to bring her back to me, well, that's what I'll do.
"Johanna" I say, being stubborn. "Speak to me. What happened? Did someone say something to you? Please, you are scaring me, Jo...".
Her eyes fills with something that resembles longing, or anger. I'm note quite sure which one of the two.
"Please, don't call me that" she begs. And I am more and more confused by the mixed emotions she is displaying.
"You don't want me to call you Jo? How should I call you? Mason? Huh?". My voice is harder than I have intended it to be, and I know it's a mistake. She seems to be more affected by sincerity than by anger.
"You shouldn't call me at all. Didn't you hear what I just said to you? I don't want this anymore. I don't want...you". Now she's screaming too and I understand why everyone is so terrified of her. She is glourious even in her anger, though.
"You really mean it, you don't...want me?". My voice breaking as I repeat her words. They sound so foreign in my ears. Distorted. Untrue.
"Yes".
The lack of hesistation scares me. For the first time, I actually begin to consider the possibility that she is being serious about this. I refuse to believe it.
"I don't believe you".
I am running out of things to say, I can almost feel her slipping away from me...
"That's not my problem".
"It seems to me like it is. You stripped in an elevator. You made me follow you. You kissed me. You held me through the night, you washed my face. Johanna, I still have your shirt on. I can still taste you in my mouth. Last night...it was the first time in months I slept through the night. There was no Rue dying in my arms. No blood. There wasn't even an arena. No nightmares. So don't you dare saying it doesn't mean anything to you. It has to mean something. It has to...".
For a moment, when she hears Rue's name, I see her face softening, but then it's gone and pity is replaced by sarcasm. She's almost animalistic as she speaks, her eyes as dark and offending as the words she begins to say.
"It didn't mean anything to me. You were just a distraction, Everdeen, I was lonely and you were available. It's not like I forced you to follow me. You decided to. I am sorry if I ever made you think that I cared. I don't. In two days, I'll have to kill you. So it is best if you forget what happened and focus on surviving. Because, when the time comes, it'll be the only thing I'll be thinking of".
I can't believe what she's implying.
"So you are telling me that if you have to, you'll just...what? You'll kill me? That's it?".
She is silent, and it gets on my nerves.
"I asked you a question, Mason. Look me in the eyes and answer me", I spit.
"Will. You. Kill. Me?". I scream every syllable of it, like it's poison and i have to get it out of my system. Every word makes me wanna puke. Screaming is the only way I have to get them out of my mouth.
Our eyes lock and time freezes as she takes a breath and close her eyes.
When she looks at me again, they are nothing but black pulls of hate and I'm already drowning.
"I'll kill you, if I have to".
I just want to rip my ears off my head.
So it was all an act. A lie. She'll kill me. And I am so stupid. But I am proud too, and I don't want to give her the satisfaction of breaking down in front of her.
I take a step forward, and I kiss her. It's just a peck on the lips, but it still manages to send a shock to my system. She's too surprised to react.
Then I turn around, running to the door as fast as I can, her hot breath still burning on my lips.
"I would have loved you, if you had let me". I whisper, and then I slam the door behind me.
Only now, out of sight, I let the tears flow.