IX

…

Like getting there, I didn't really remember getting back. The return, it was - it was all fragmented and blurred as if there were pieces of the puzzle missing or spots covering my vision. It was like when I had the bottle of whiskey running through my veins: jumbled, blurred, and upside-down. It was all so right and all so wrong.

It just was.

Prim's name was reaped, I volunteered, there was a loud pounding sound in my chest, goodbyes were said and promises made, I boarded the train, Haymitch's finger was nearly taken off with a butter knife, and then we were pulling into the Capitol station.

It just was.

Returning was like the same as leaving.

It just was.

Effie called for us to leave, I nodded, there were loud cheers coming from all around, goodbyes were said and promises were made, I boarded the train, Haymitch nearly took his finger off in the train door, and then we were crossing into 12.

It just was.

It was just like I knew.

I knew. I knew before Effie came bouncing into the cart with such enthusiasm I nearly forgot this was the first time she, like Haymitch, had brought a tribute home. I just knew we were there. Maybe it was that burning smell of coal or the reflection of the forest pines in the windows. Maybe it was that gut feeling of home or the fact that Haymitch was wearing shoes for once. Maybe it was the slightly clouded skies or the lack of security on the outskirts. I don't know what it was that made it all tick, click together to create the big picture, but it just did. I just knew.

I stood from my seat in the dinning cart the moment we passed over the border of the district. I just saw a glance, a glimmer and I knew. I knew. I knew the woods surrounding the district like the back of my hand. Where the district began and where it cut off was engraved in my mind like needed information.

I felt myself swallow a breath in that very moment, but no less than a moment later was I breathing out to breathe a breath of coal dust in.

Then I approached the window with such caution that it was as if I was sneaking up on prey. My one arm was out in front of me while the over hovered by my side and my feet tip-toed in their boots. And then coming to terms that this was it, this was 12 I let down my guard. My hands grasped at the windowsill and I watched as the trees flew by in a blur. Soon they faded away and we were pulling into the station.

The train came to a graceful halt even though I stumbled forward.

District 12.

Home.

I could barely smile with the immense amount of satisfaction of being back built inside me. Fulfilling my promise to Prim to try my best to return for the first time seemed like a good idea. It all came crashing, the memories and emotions before quickly snapping out of my stationary phase, my body kicking into motion. I raced through the train. I went from cart to cart, down to the next and the one that follows that and the one after that and the next one, letting my legs carry me to the carter where we boarded.

And so consumed with getting out of the damn train, stepping foot on the coal dusted ground, hugging Prim again, breathing in the smell of the fresh pine, and seeing Gale's brash smile again I don't realize Haymitch standing in front of me till I already mash against him.

I stumble back, but he thankfully catches me by the arm and stands me up steady.

"You ready for this, sweetheart," he ask searching my eyes.

I nod my head, unable to form a word.

"Nothing's the same," he tells me, staring me in the eye as if it made any difference, "Remember that."

I nod.

Then doing the same he placed his hand on my back between my shoulder blades and slowly lead me through the carts till we reached Effie.

She greeted us with a blissful expression and with as much enthusiasm as she had just moments before. A single tear falls down her cheek when she spots me, but I knew it was okay, it a tear of happiness and pride - pride not only in herself for achieving the greatest struggle a district escort has of bring a child home, but also proud that I was coming home alive. She smiled, showing her whiten bleached teeth, as her hands straighten the collared shirt over the surprisingly comfortable, tight pants she had picked out for me this morning to wear.

"I'm proud of you, Katniss," she smiled, another tear sneaking out from the corner of her eye. "So proud."

"Ah," I say caught off guard, sputtering to think of what to say, "Th - thank you."

She smiles again and Haymitch gives me a nod and then -

Then the Peacekeepers open the doors and I step out into the light, the coal dust, and the pine smell that could only be District 12.

…

They were all there.

Everyone.

I had never realized there were so many people that lived in District 12. Even during the Reaping and the Victor Tour not everyone came out. We weren't forced to like the Capitol made clear every year we just be in attendance. We were the pity district, we had the pity Peacekeepers. And so the Peacekeepers weren't the best and they weren't the most authoritarian. They were laid back for the most part, trusting and comfortable around us. They allowed most of the elders and the younger children to watch from their homes.

But there were so many people. It was as if they had imported people from other districts to compensate. And if not that, they had to had cloned or mass produce the population for it to grow the large. Everyone, everyone was there in the square.

So many faces…

Darius

Mayor Undersee

Thom

Ripper

Greasy Sae

Leevy

Rooba

Mrs. Undersee

Madge

Goat Man

Delly

Then - and then there were the Mellarks, one by one, they stood near the back corner of the crowd. Mr. Mellark stood out the most, to me of all of them. He was, would have been what Peeta would have looked like when, if he would have ever entered his late forties, early fifties. Not only did his appearance make my stomach twist, but the small smile he gave me. The oldest Mellark son, Graham, stood beside his father along with his newly wedded wife, Melody Foster. The middle son, Rye, stood beside Melody with an unreadable expression that made my stomach twist even more. And there was no one because Rye, there was no Mrs. Mellark.

After Rye, there were just more faces, faces of other District 12 citizens I didn't recognize or just over looked.

At some point my eyes landed on Gale.

He gave me a wretched smile.

…

"Here," Effie instructs me in quote a dramatic tone, coming to a halt in front of the ivy covered iron and brick entrance of Victor's Village, "is your new home."

I give her a small smile of acknowledgment.

She claps her hands, bouncing up and down with enthusiasm again all while Haymitch just shakes his head, rolling his eyes from behind her.

"Well, come on," she says walking through the entrance into the small community of outlandish houses, "I'll show you your house."

And so I followed her through the gateway, Haymitch right beside me.

Victor's Village was nice to say the least.

After walking through the gate, you followed along a white, glossy stone path that went straight through the community, crafted around the three layered fountain that stood at the first set of houses and like the pathway was made of the same white, glossy stone. The pathway branched off of at each home leading straight up to the mansion's front steps. And like the pathway and fountain each home was made of the white, glossy stone that I believe Effie now said was called marble.

However the white, glossy color of the stone was not the only pigment that consumed Victor's Village. There was the forest, green ivy that crawled along the gate and at parts around the footpath to the base of the fountain and even clung to some of the structures of the mansions. And where there wasn't marble there was an off shade of grass, the shade that made it look like it hadn't been watered in a week's time. The grass covered the non-stoned ground and grew between the cracks in the path. There were bushes and all different sorts of plants outside the mansion, sprouting flowers and blossoms of yellow and red and orange.

Yet like how each marble pathway stone was cut in a different shape, each marble home - mansion had its own design. There was one with wooden windows and another with "cobalt," in Effie's words, railings and window grids. One mansion had a red door while another look to have its door made of what looked to be pure silver. There was a house with an odd sort of rooftop that looked to swoop up and down like the bark of a tree while another one of the homes had a "rustic, tungsten slated roof," in Effie's terms, but to me it just looked to be layers of thin rock. And there were other, many others. There were even more aspects to the homes I had mentioned that I just didn't have enough time to describe or didn't think there was such expressions to describe.

Effie led us to the home beside the one with the wooden windows.

It was nice and there was nothing bad that could be said about the home. It was two stories made of complete marble. It seemed purer than the other homes, as if someone had been sure to whiten the already white stones. However, the thing that set this home different from the others was not just the black wooden door, but the "black titanium." By Effie, black titanium was some priceless metal that in the Capitol was shaped into beautiful jewelry, like the arrow wraparound for my bicep Cinna had given me. And to have black titanium throughout my home: the railing, the doorknob, the window frames, the furniture, the silverware, and just about everything else was something to kill for.

The inside of the home was just as beautiful as the outside with dark, wooden flooring and simple decorations that made me think of Cinna and his clothing designs. There, on the first floor was: a small foyer, a kitchen, dining room, sitting area, and office I would never use nor anyone I knew would or could use. On the second floor there was: three bedroom, two baths, and a balcony that overlooked the forest out back.

It was all more than enough, it was too much. The house in general had to be ten times the size of our home in the Seam. It had to be worth a price unknown yet of greatest compare to our home in the Seam that was worth nothing more than a handful of coins, maybe less.

It was all so much and there was just me. Just one person. Just me.

And that when it struck me - Prim.

Where was she?

Down the stairs as if he knew I was in need of answers, Gale stood beside Haymitch in the foyer.

He looked at me with a sad expression that reminded me of the smile he had given me earlier in the square. It was the same expression his face portrayed when he was just about to kill his prey. Sorrow, compassion, regret. Haymitch looked at me in the same way, maybe a little less sad as he was never one to express much emotion, but his eyes still held unwanted dismay. Then it happened.

Gale opened his mouth and words began to spew out. So many words. So many words with meanings. So many words with so much depth. And it wasn't till midway through his spiel that it all seemed that all those words seemed to piece themselves together in my mind and click, burying me deep in their meaning.

My mind began to fight the information as my chest seemed to tear into two. My entire body seemed to fight itself and at the same time fight Gale's words.

I was unaccepting.

I was redundant.

And at some point I crumbled, completely fell apart. Then I remember is the blackness but…

There was no doubt in my mind that for some foreign reason, I allowed his name to slip from my lips in a desperate plead for help.

Cato.