Just might be paranoid
I'm avoiding the lines
Cause they just might split
Can someone stop the noise?
I don't know what it is
But I just don't fit
I'm paranoid
Arabelle Sawyer, 29.
President of Panem.
"The presidential mansion is officially no more. The west wing fell to the ground in hot fiery ashes at approximately 5:43 early this morning, leaving nothing but the concrete molding that surrounded the house. Still no word from our lovely president, but once again, no one is surprised. The suspect is still at large. There will be a very lump sum reward if anyone can provide any details that might help us to get to the bottom of this heinous act."
Tears stream down my already mascara streaked face as I click the off button on the large remote. I knew people talked poorly of me in private and on the streets but I really did expect better of the news crew in Panem. I make a mental note to have that man fired for saying those horrible things about me. Watching my house burn to the ground isn't especially how I would normally choose to spend a Saturday morning, yet here I am, watching my whole time tumble in front of my eyes.
Our driver took me and Berkley to our second home far outside of the Capitol. It is nestled in a very secluded area and is surrounded by mountains and large trees. I find solace in the chirping of the birds and soft hum of the different insects out here. I feel safe away from the hustle and bustle of everything. However, just because I am not in the presidential mansion, doesn't mean my duties as president have just magically flown out of the window, as much as I wish that they would sometimes.
"Belle, you have got to stop watching that. All that you are doing is hurting yourself." Berkley hands me a cup of tea and sits down next to me on the floral print couch. Light is streaming in through the big glass windows.
"The fifty-fourth hunger games are going to start soon, Berk. As much as I really hate them and wish that I didn't have to do them, I took an oath and I refuse to let the previous President down. I gave him my word." I say, softly blowing on my tea.
"I know, babe. The people are just starting to rebel because they know that you are a softy and they think that this behavior will help to get rid of the games once and for all. You need to stand your ground, especially right now," he says pulling me into his lap and wrapping his arms around my midriff.
"I know, that. I'm not some weak woman that people can just walk all over. I just don't know how to handle it when hundreds of people slander my name and come to my house and try to kill me." I say getting as close to him as I possibly can.
"Well, this is your time to shine, baby. Get together with the Head Gamemaker and plan the best hunger games that Panem has ever seen." He kisses my forehead. "I believe in you," he whispers.
"I knew that I married you for a reason." I joke quickly pecking him on the lips.
I pull my phone out of my black leather tote bag and find Darrah's name.
"We have things to talk about, my driver will pick you up at seven o'clock.
Arabelle."
My fingers fly across the bright keys on my phone as I hurry and send the text. I throw my phone to the side and close my eyes, enjoying the peace and quiet while it lasts.
Think about the love inside the strength of heart
Think about the heroes saving life in the dark
Climbing higher through the fire, time was running out
Never knowing you weren't going to be coming down alive
Darrah Crandall, 33
Head Gamemaker
President Sawyer is a nit wit. Don't get me wrong, she is definitely a sweetheart, but if it were up to her we would all have to tell everyone that we loved each other at least five times a day or we would be put in a cell full of cuddly stuffed animals for an hour and that just doesn't sit well with me. She is a great person and she has a good heart, but those are things that shouldn't be the first priority when running a country.
The last hunger games was such a success that I have no idea if what a person like Arabelle Sawyer has up her sleeve, will even come remotely close to being a good games. Technically I am supposed to be in charge of this but I have no problem letting her take over and for me to just orchestrate the whole thing. If she wants a shot to show Panem what she's got then this is definitely it.
There is a knock on my door at seven o'clock on the dot. I check myself out in the mirror one last time as I walk by it. My long black hair is sitting in perfect ringlet curls and the rouge on my cheeks makes my dark complexion stand out against my white dress. I look good, and not a single part of me is ashamed to admit that. I strut outside to the black SUV with tinted windows and hop in. The driver speeds off leaving a trail of black smoke, billowing behind us. The car leaves the city and enters the part of the Capitol where the roads are winding and the trees act as a canopy above our heads. It's amazing how leaving the concrete jungle for even hours can relax you to your core. When we finally reach our destination, the car drops me off at a big white house with a wrap-around porch. The shutters on the windows are painted blue and there are two black rocking chairs on the front porch. This has Arabelle Sawyer written all over it.
I knock on the door and she quickly opens it up and pulls me in. Her hair is in a messy bun on the top of her head and she has mascara streaks running down her face. Her beige sweater is hanging slightly off one of her shoulders and she is wearing leggings. She is definitely not the Arabelle Sawyer than I am used to seeing.
"I am so glad that you are here. I have had enough. This is getting out of hand." She throws her hands into the air. "We have a lot to discuss, I want to make this the best hunger games yet. I want people to fear me." She gets a lost look in her eyes and then smiles sweetly.
"Well, I'm here to help. I pull papers out of my briefcase and sit across from her in a royal blue armchair. "What do you have planned so far," I ask, getting ready to write.
"I want it to be…" she starts going on and on about how all she wants is to scare people back into order. She gets a strange look in her eyes as she talks about this. I can't tell if it is determination or fear.
"Ugh, this is just so hard. I just want people to think of me as any other president," she says putting her head in her hands.
"Belle, you cried with a commercial with a duck came on, because it made you happy You are a softie and it's nothing to be ashamed of. I love that about you." Berkley chimes in. She blows him a kiss. They are all over each other all the time and to be quite honest, it makes me sick. Love is only in the movies, not in real life. At least, not for me.
"Well, I guess that will wrap it up for tonight. I have a lot to think about. We will meet again tomorrow." she says wiping her eyes on her sweater, leaving black marks all over the sleeves.
"I'm gonna go take a shower, have a safe ride home," she smiles, softly. She rises from the couch and stops to look out the window. The sun is setting and the sky is a beautiful mix of orange, red, and purple. I look down at my clipboard, getting ready to shove it in my bad when I hear the loud sound of shattering glass and a piercing scream from the President. Berkley comes running into the room.
"What the hell happened," he shouts, angrily.
"I was looking out the window, admiring the sunset when the glass just shattered. I don't know what happened. She is lying on the floor with her arms over her head and for the third time today, she is crying.
"What the hell is security doing?" Berkley huffs and pulls out his phone.
While Arabelle is a mess on the floor, I walk over the asses the damage. The bullet didn't make it all the way through the glass. It's lodged into it very tightly, though.
"When will this all end?" Arabelle cries.
"This has to be the best games yet until then you need to stay out of the public eye," I tell her, helping her off of the floor.
Hey, y'all. Here is the second part of my prolog! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I liked writing it. I'm very excited to get this going. Thank you for all of the submissions so far, they have been really great.
You can submit anyone you like, but you have a better chance of making it in the story if you send me someone from a district that hasn't been submitted to yet. There is a list on my profile! :)
Keep the submissions coming, and also, submit to my mine and my best friends Collab. It's going to be so much fun. The story is on his profile if you are interested. While you are there, you should read and review Ghost of Our Past, because it is truly amazing.
Thoughts?
XOXO
Jenna.