Blaine Abernathy: A Canary Caged
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games
Warning: This chapter deals with animal cruelty.
Chapter 37: Black Cat
Blaine's POV
After a few weeks, I was finally able to have my break. It was disappointing since the holidays came and went. As I was at the Capitol and Haymitch was back in District 12. Fortunately, Peeta spent it with him. Although, nothing much happened.
Along with the news that Katniss and Peeta hired Hazelle Hawthorne to be Haymitch's housekeeper. Since Gale's public flogging, people stopped hiring her to wash their clothes. I tried getting a housekeeper for Haymitch before, yet he made it a living hell for the person and gave up.
I occasionally asked my cousin, a member of the Covey, to tend to my place. No matter how much I try to separate myself from the Covey, I always come back to them. They were my family from my mother's side, either by blood or connection. I went to school with them, despite separating myself. I lied to myself, saying I didn't have any friends, but Michael, yet the Covey was there. But since being Reaped, I do what I can to distance myself so they wouldn't be targeted. I can't have their blood on my hands.
No doubt, money has become really tight since Commander Thread took over. The Covey has performed regularly at the Hob, weddings, and events. Now that the Hob is gone, their regular income is limited. I left some money to them in an account, yet they don't like going to the bank. I worry for them, especially with Aunty Barb reaching ninety. She is basically the matriarch of the Covey.
The thought saddens me thinking about her since I talked to her briefly last summer. As she sat by watching the next generation perform. A willow woman who lost her blood family over the years and her wife. One thing about District Twelve, you have the freedom to love someone without being judged by the community.
Knowing any day could be her last, I should visit Aunty Barb. No doubt she had a good holiday with the Covey by her side.
My holiday was spent at parties when not doing a concert, a Christmas Special for Caesar Flickerman show, and Christmas Songs at a banquet. I was thankful to have Effie, Portia, and Cinna attend with me. And most of all, Cinna went the extra mile; despite being stubborn to spend Christmas with his family, he stayed the night with me and the morning after. As he got me a gift. A necklace. An onyx pendant with gold detail. I did not expect it, as I had bought him some earrings; it was simple, nothing exaggerated, in which Cinna smiled, putting them on.
I am genuinely thankful to have Cinna. Although our relationship was a secret, I felt like myself or at least happy. However, I had to be careful. For I know I am risking Cinna's safety for selfish reasons.
Anyway, I was on the train with Cinna, his prep team, and Effie. The team and Effie were enjoying themselves in the luxury of the train. Meanwhile, I spent time with Cinna. After the concert, I'll be back in District 12 until the summon to Capitol again. So, I am savoring what time I have left.
Cinna hardly spoke to me as I sat in the designer cart, watching him add the finishing touches to another dress. This dress was one of Katniss's wedding dresses that President Snow approved; it just needed the final touches. Strangely, the Capitol approved the arranged marriage when the citizens hardly knew its true purpose. If I knew President Snow, he would plan some assassination on the Star-Crossed Lovers, eliminating one and leaving the valuable victor to the Profit Circle.
Anyway, I was fascinated by how Cinna created these dresses with such elegance. He wasn't ordering anybody to do anything nor taking the base to a professional. The bottom of the dress was sewn by a sewing machine, then the detailed hand sewn. His dresses were completely couture gowns. How he moves his hand elegantly, quickly, and steadily in a soft motion. It was like he was playing an instrument with the needle. Almost like a violin: all the beading, lace, tulle, everything properly in place and order. By the finished product of these wedding dresses, I'm starting to get jealous.
"I'm sensing a bit of green eye," Cinna announced.
"What can I say, most girls dream about wearing their fairy tale wedding dress?" I replied back with a shrug.
"How so?" He asked.
"Well, in District 12, weddings aren't as elaborate as the Capitols. The bride would rent a well-worn white dress."
Cinna's eyes widened when hearing that, "Is that so. I thought you all would sew your dress."
I shook my head, "Cotton, wool, and linen are used for basic needs. Not wedding dresses."
Cinna nodded as he focused on the dress, "And what are the wedding customs in Twelve?"
I took a deep breath in thought, "Well, the bride rents a dress while the groom wears his best clothes. The couple would register as spouses at the Justice Building and will be assigned a home. There is a small gathering for the ceremony with family and friends enjoying a meal. The reception will have a traditional song to welcome the couple into their new home. Afterward, the newlyweds will make their first fire and toast bread together."
"Interesting," he said. "I wonder how Haymitch's wedding went."
I snorted, remembering Lucy telling me, "Let's just say their wedding was not traditional or flamboyant. Yet Granny Maude and the Covey ensured my mother had a wedding."
Cinna paused what he was doing, looking at me, "Covey?"
"They…" I hesitated, not wanting to expose them for their safety. But this was Cinna. "They are distant cousins of mine. From my mom's side of the family. They perform music in Twelve."
"Is that where you get your musical talent?" he asked.
I nodded, "My first album had some of their songs."
Cinna nodded.
I then changed the subject as I picked up a veil, "Anyway, I'm not planning on marriage just yet."
"Why's that?"
"I'm still young, and there's a whole world out there to explore before committing to one person," I answered that it was partially true.
Though there was more. If I do get married, it'll have to be under President Snow's standards, because he wants my husband to be a Capitol City for publicity. Another set was fear. I feared many things that came with marriage, love, commitment, and a family. Haymitch and Lucy were young, having a teen pregnancy, barely legal. An accident that he knew I would be sent into the arena. We both knew fate would come, yet we conquered. But what if I had a child who, if by request, is a citizen of the Capitol? Would they be considered a tribute or not? The Capitol never sends their children into the games.
Cinna stopped stitching a bead and sat down next to me. Our relationship was slow, to which the Capitol may say we are dating. Only our dating was a secret to both worlds for a reason. We don't know if anybody would approve of us being together in a certain way. Hell, he's a stylist for the Games, and I'm a victor! This might be considered taboo for coworkers to hold affection. And yet here we are.
"You are probably right about that. It's ashamed that Katniss and Peeta are getting married in a year or so." Cinna agrees. "I do wonder if they share the same feelings."
"No, they don't, which is unfair. Peeta loves Katniss, except Katniss considers him a friend. If this goes on, Katniss will have to learn how to love. To learn how to love is considered a last resort in Twelve." I sighed.
"Are you saying not many people from Twelve marry out of love?"
I snorted, "Many in District 12 marry for love. Yet there are those who marry for survival and comfort. That is the only control my people have."
"Interesting," he murmured sadly.
"Not really."
.o0o.
The train arrived at District 12.
"Come, come, we have a wedding to prepare," Effie cheered.
"Actually, Effie, I'm gonna walk back," I announced.
Effie was surprised, "Don't be ridiculous. It's chilly."
I shook my head, "I need to spread my legs for a bit and grab some items for Haymitch."
Effie was about to protest, then sighed, giving up. I chuckled softly as I secured my coat, hat, and scarf. Although, I did help the prep team and Cinna prepare. Once that was done, I got off the train and noted the extra security. Being from this District, I know the Peacekeepers won't see me as a threat, yet seeing all these guns made things uneasy.
As I exited the station, I paused, seeing the drastic changes that Commander Thread had established. It has brought memories of District Eleven, practically a prison. Thanks to all the peacekeepers roaming around, especially on roofs with massive artillery. A frown kissed my lips. Last year, everything was comfortable; not all were strict.
Suddenly a person stood next to me. And to my surprise, it was Cinna. He was not dressed in refined Capitol clothes. No, his outfit was simple.
"Cinna, why aren't you with the others?" I asked.
"I want to see your hometown," he answered casually.
I shook my head, trying to figure out how to convince myself to take a car. District Twelve is no longer the same. Different from the last time he saw it during the Harvest.
"Cinna, the town is barren at this time of year,"
"So," he replied.
"There's nothing entertaining here," I tried to reason.
He merely shrugged.
I bit my lip; people from the Capitol are supposed to be oblivious to the condition of the District. They are aware of some conditions for the outer Districts. Still, Twelve has undergone a drastic change since Commander Thread took over. However, Cinna being stubborn as a mule, I had no choice on checking the families I cared for. Might have to do that tomorrow. Thus, taking a deep breath, I led the way to Victor's Village. It would roughly be an hour's walk.
Cinna merely smiled as we walked through town. The miners and a few people running small errands were making their way down the road. The grounds were covered in snow mixed with coal dust as frost filled the air.
It saddens me since the children would be out playing in the snow. And yet, not a child was out in this area. Parents undoubtedly keep the children inside, away from Commander Thread and his men.
"It's so quiet," Cinna noted.
"Indeed," I sighed.
We continued walking to the Square, where there were several stores. I went to the grocery store, seeing what products they might have that I could use during my short stay, along with items for Haymitch. Cinna stood by as his eyes wandered around, noticing the lack of customers. He even picked up some cans and boxes, noticing how plain and simple they looked as it read the product name. Nothing else.
Once done, I paid for my items. The cashier nodded as he brought up the change. Yet I gave him a silent gesture to keep it. The older man mouthed a thank you handing me the bag. I nodded, grabbing Cinna by the arm and leading him out.
"That was quick," he noted.
"They were in short supply," I said.
Cinna nodded as he took hold of the bag. "You don't have to."
"I insist," he assured.
I sighed, leading the way to Victor's Village. Until someone called out my name.
"Blaine!"
I stopped turning around to see an older gentleman with several teens making his way over. A man in his mid-seventies with graying hair that blended into his beard. His eyes were a dark shade of brown, almost masked by his bushy eyebrows.
"Clerk Carmine," I greeted, surprised.
The clerk gave me a smile as I recognized him. He is Clerk Carmine Clade, one of the older members of the Covey and the fiddler. The teens stepped back, letting the older man come forward, and hugged me. I was baffled, not expecting a hug, yet I appreciated it. I cherish these moments as much as I try to distance myself for their safety.
"What are you doing here?" I asked as he pulled away.
"I just came from the mines," Clerk announced. "Checking on my son and others."
I nodded.
Clerk then glanced at Cinna, "Who's this? I haven't seen him before."
"I'm Cinna," he said, offering a hand.
Clerk took it, giving a shake, "Why does that name sound familiar."
Before Cinna could answer, one of the teens, Billie Bronze, came over, resting on Clerk's shoulder, "We need to go, Gramps."
Clerk sighed, letting go of Cinna's hand, and looked at me. "It's good to see you, Blaine."
"It's good to see you too, Clerk Carmine," I replied. Then went into my purse, pulled out all the cash I had, and gave it to Billie. Billie appreciated it. "I'll be sure to send more later."
"Thanks," Billie Bronze said.
Clerk frowned at the exchange, then looked at me, "Please come visit. Barb Azure would appreciate it."
I sighed, "I will try."
Clerk nodded, "I'm keeping your word, Yellow Maysilee."
"Come on, Gramps," Billie insisted as he led Clerk away, heading back to the Seams.
I stood there, watching them depart to the Seams. After a moment, I sighed, for I genuinely miss the Covey.
"Yellow Maysilee?" Cinna asked, grasping my attention.
I corrected myself, walking again, "Just a nickname."
Cinna nodded as he followed, "Is he your grandfather?"
"No, he is like an uncle," I answered. "Distant relative, actually."
Cinna nodded, "I don't recall him during your victory tour."
In my victory tour, it was only Haymitch. My father made the decision to keep the Covey at a distance. Haymitch knew the dangers of adding more people to his life since he lost his girlfriend and family. It was because of me that he married Lucy. The Covey did their best to welcome Haymitch and helped him become part of a family. But when my mother died, Haymitch separated us from them for their own protection.
"Distant relatives," I said, ending the conversation there.
.o0o.
When we got to Victor's Village, Cinna, and I went our separate ways after he handed me the bag. I stood there watching him making his way to the Everdeen House. I watched him go inside, surprised at how things had gone today. Anyway, I walked back to my house, pulled out the keys, and discovered the door was unlocked. That is right, I had Peeta house-sit my place with the cats.
It was nice that Peeta could help out on a favor than Haymitch or Katniss, who would rather skin the cats than take care of them. Once entering through the door, I could hear a rhythmic pattern of metal clanging. I scoffed, knowing where Peeta was.
So, walking upstairs to the spare bedroom where the makeshift gym was, to find Peeta on the weight doing the bench press. He lifted probably two hundred pounds over his head, covered in sweat while veins were visible on his biceps. Shiloh sat on the stool behind him. I try hard not to laugh, thinking of her as a spotter.
I made my presence known on the thirty counts with a prominent cough. Peeta's grip slanted, quickly he caught himself and put the weights back in the slot. Once he sat up, blue eyes widened, followed by a sheepish look.
"You know, it's dangerous to lift weights by yourself," I warned.
"Blaine, you're back," Peeta panted as he grabbed a rag.
"Guess you found my gym," I accused, taking a seat on a chair.
"Yeah, hope you don't mind," he said nervously.
"Nope, I don't mind. Though I hope you don't tell anybody about this. Nobody is supposed to have a private gym except the peacekeepers. Had to bribe Old Cray lots of money to get these weights and gear."
"Deal," he sighed in relief, wiping his face off with a rag. "So, how was your tour?"
"It was decent, a bit of a struggle controlling the audiences, but nothing I couldn't handle."
Peeta nodded, though something was eating him, and it was the weights. I raised a brow crossing my arms to spill the beans. He took a deep breath, "I was doing some cleaning for ya when I discovered your journal."
"Which one?" I asked.
"Um…your lyrics," he answered.
I sighed in relief. The last thing I need for him is to look into my Hunger Games journals. There are things I wrote that were not appropriate. As I had many thoughts or opinions on how the tributes acted and tips to give to future tributes. But since he read my lyric journal, songs from the Covey that my mom used to sing, and my attempts in songwriting. The music is unlike the songs I sing for the Capitol but more from Twelve.
"So, what song did you like?" I asked.
"Um, the song you dedicated to Katniss," he answered.
"Daughters Lament," I breathed.
"And another song you wrote, Tomorrow will be kinder."
I sighed, for that was a song my mom and Granny Maude would sing to me. The Covey used to sing it.. Then again, when I am in the Hob, they would sing the song to me if one spots me. Silently asking me to join them, yet I do not.
As much as I want to join them.
"How come you don't sing these songs?" Peeta asked.
"Well, not many people like country songs," I answered. "I tried for my first album, but it didn't work out."
I thought I could sing welcoming and comforting songs after all the chaos I went through. After my games, I needed something from home. At least when I felt happy, and that is when my mother was alive with the Covey. Therefore, I tried to bring those songs to life…but not many go through. Rejected. Simon actually approved; however, the company rejected a lot of songs.
Suddenly Shiloh leaped onto my lap. She mewed, snuggling onto my chest. I chuckled, petting her spine, "Hey there, did you miss me?"
Shiloh mewed again, begging for more attention,
"Thanks for watching my cats," I said.
Peeta nodded, rubbing his neck, "No problem…. Midnight has been gone for a long time?"
"That's normal with him. He's a Casanova, after all," I assured, and we both chuckled in agreement. Midnight could never deny a female cat in heat. I hope there won't be another litter of kittens because Shiloh is more than enough.
The doorbell rang, catching our attention. Odd, the doorbell hardly rings in Victor's Village, for nobody in Twelve dares comes here. So, setting Shiloh down, I walked downstairs to the main hallways to answer the door. When I did, there was nobody there except for a small box. This was strange since I never get packages.
Until I saw something that triggered dark memories. The corner of the box was red as the liquid seeped onto the snow. The sound of the tribute's screams and cries echoed in my ears as my heart tightened.
Don't open it.
Don't open it.
Don't open the box.
Something dark and evil was in there. If I dare open it, I shall relive all my suffering again. Blood. I can see blood and faintly smell it. Peeta could be heard from behind me, yet I ignored him. As if being possessed, I knelt down and carefully grasped the lid. My heart beat rapidly, hard against my ribs, while my lungs tightened.
Don't open it.
Slowly I opened the lid to reveal what was inside.
And what I saw destroyed me.
"Fuck!" I screamed, covering my mouth, and turned around.
What I saw shattered my world in what lies in the box. Peeta looked at me, worried that he walked around to see what it was, and paled. Inside the box was a dead cat. But this cat isn't any stray. Instead, it was Midnight…. mutilated. All his legs were cut off, his head decapitated, and his eyes gouged out while lying on a bed of roses. How could I tell this cat was my cat? Simple, the ribbon with the bell proved it.
Midnight, my Midnight was dead.
President Snow killed him to establish a lesson. Peeta grabbed an envelope inside and directed me to the entryway. I open the letter to read in red ink.
"Somebody had to die."
"We should report this," Peeta said, rubbing my arms. "We'll file a report and catch-"
"It's no use, Peeta," I whispered, trying to control my emotions. "A dead cat is nothing to a peacekeeper."
"Blaine," he said, surprised. "…. are you okay?"
"No." I choked, crushing the ivory card.
Midnight, my cat is dead. I can only assume the punishment was for Gale's flogging, which Katniss interrupted. President Snow assures that consequences never go unpunished. He knew he couldn't hurt Katniss or Peeta, so Abernathy took responsibility for the Star-Crossed Lovers. Why did I have to suffer the torment while Katniss gets a clean slate? Why am I being punished and not her for her action? Why does Midnight have to die?
I collapsed on the floor and cried.
"I'm going to get Haymitch," Peeta panicked, running out in the cold to get my father.
I didn't care as I curled into a ball and sobbed. Shiloh walked up to me, worried, not understanding what was happening. However, I pushed her inside, keeping her away from the box. Not wanting her to see the mutilation.
Now Shiloh was an orphan with no mother or father. Not thinking, I held her in my arms and silently cried, petting her gray fur gingerly. Shiloh mewed, rubbing her little head against my cheek, sometimes licking her sandpaper tongue against tears.
It wasn't long before Haymitch and Peeta returned.
"Fuck!" Haymitch yelled upon seeing the box. "Peeta, take it around the back."
"…. okay." Peeta hesitated, carefully picking up the box and taking it around back.
Haymitch kicked the snow around, covering the blood, before helping me onto my feet and guiding me inside. He looked terrible, with his clothes dirty, smelling like alcohol, and his hair untamed. But it was no use for judgment or ridicule Haymitch on lack of hygiene. Instead, I set Shiloh down and jumped into my father's arms, crying. Haymitch stumbled, surprised by the outburst but didn't complain as he wrapped his arms around me.
Not saying a word, he led me to the living room and sat us on the couch. I curled against Haymitch like a little girl again, crying like when Mom died. All Haymitch did was hold me, rubbing my back and such. No words are exchanged, for that is how it usually is between us. We typically hold up a mask so our enemies won't find out how vulnerable we are till the last moment.
Peeta soon came back, staring down at us. "Anything I could do?"
"Get the spirits and something sweet," Haymitch ordered.
"Okay," Peeta said, returning with a bottle of white liquor, a tray of cookies, and tea.
Haymitch spiked the tea and handed me the glass, "Drink. It'll calm your nerves."
I nodded, sniffed a little, and accepted the tea taking a large gulp. The taste helped me calm down while munching on a sugar cookie with icing. "So much for a good day?"
"Guess so, sweetheart," Haymitch muttered.
"Why?" I asked, mainly to myself.
"Because life's a bitch," Haymitch said.
After calming my nerves, getting a bit buzzed on the alcohol. Peeta and Haymitch helped me bury Midnight near the oak tree in the backyard. It took a moment because of the snow and hard soil of winter. But we managed to dig a good three feet before burying Midnight. Afterward, I stood there for a while with Shiloh in my arms.
Midnight was my first pet. I found him after Finnick saved me from addiction. Or better yet, Midnight found me. He was a brilliant cat; if animals speak, he'll be the first. I try to remember our good memories: Him curling around my feet, the suggestive or disproving expression. My favorite would be him hissing at Effie or glaring at Haymitch, which led to a staring competition that Haymitch would always lose. Midnight was my best friend for the past four years, and life had to take him away from me over a stupid excuse.
"Damn cat," I whispered, rubbing the tears away.
.o0o.
Later that day, nothing was said, and no news was given since District 12 was on lockdown. It did not help when Effie got a call announcing that there was a change of plans. My one-week break changed for a sudden concert. Haymitch and Peeta protested, informing Effie that I was grieving since I just lost my cat.
Effie was baffled by this yet insisted that I needed to come back to the Capitol. No doubt this was President Snow doing to ensure he had control. At the same time, I suffered despite me being more compliant than anyone else.
I only complied, freshening up and making myself presentable. Once done, I gave Peeta and Haymitch a hug, saying goodbye. Haymitch only nodded, understanding the situation. However, Peeta insisted I take things easy. So late in the night, after the photo shoot, the team headed out. I took hold of Shiloh, needing the support and not wanting to leave her alone.
As I reached the vehicle, Cinna stood with Katniss at the entryway of the Everdeen house. They were deep in conversation when the Prep Team stepped through, saying goodbye. Their eyes followed them to the vehicle where I stood. Their attention fell on me, yet my emotions were numb when I got in the car with the prep team. I do not want to talk with anyone.
Thus, in the car, Flavius, Octavia, and Venia were in the back seat, gushing over how wonderful the photoshoot was. I sat in the passenger seat, focusing on Shiloh, who was rubbing herself against me.
All was a daze from arriving at the train station. Getting on the train. And lying on the bed. Loss in the motions. Unable to process everything that has transpired. What started as a decent day has turned into a nightmare.
Midnight was dead.
Mutilated.
Gone.
Shiloh purred at the continuous petting when there was a knock on the door. I tensed, not wanting to see Effie or anybody at the moment. But that didn't stop Cinna from entering. Knowing him, he probably got the news from Haymitch. Because nothing was said between us except for him sitting next to me, resting a hand on my shoulder.
I tried not to cry, but the tears came anyway.
"I'm sorry, Blaine." He whispered, leaning down and kissed the side of my head. "I'm sorry this happened to you."
"He was my best friend," I breathed, wiping the tears away. "Midnight has always been there for me….and yet I couldn't-"
"Blaine, you had no control over this." He interrupted. "Even if you did, Midnight would've been dead in the end. He was an old cat."
It was true. Midnight was a wild cat at first; feral cats live for about seven or ten years, unlike house pets that live for fourteen or more. But still, Midnight shouldn't have suffered or died in that way. No animal should be mutilated, decapitated, and just violated in such a way while lying on a bed of roses. That is how I knew it was President Snow doing…. the roses. He might have requested a peacekeeper or Commander Thread to kill Midnight. In the end, it hurts to lose a friend, and the worst part is I had to fake it. Act like nothing happened with a fake mask for the cameras.
Sometimes the Capitol takes further the things I want.
First my mother, next my freedom, then Mike, my innocence, afterward myself, and now Midnight. Why can't I have those people I want still alive? The Capitol had the medicine to save my mother...and they let her die. Everything else was a game to them, and Midnight was just a side dish. Who else could President Snow take next? I don't want to lose somebody important to me. If I do, then I might be shattered and go completely numb. Returning to the girl who seeks pleasure through pain, drugs, and alcohol? I don't want to be that girl again.
"Cinna," I choked. "Please don't leave me."
"As you wish," Cinna murmured.
And with that said, Cinna held me in his arms as time passed.
Blaine's names mean yellow. So her nickname has been Yellow despite being a brunette. There is no name meaning to Maysilee than "girl in the Hunger Games." so Maysilee in my world is a type of wildflower that is yellow. Blaine's middle name is dedicated to Maysilee Donner by Haymitch and Lucy, since they were friends and allies with her.
Tomorrow Will Be Kinder - The Secret Sister
Daughter's Lament –Caroline Chocolate Drops
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