is giving me a headache. My email notifications have stopped working as well as view counts! Anyone else having this problem or is it just me? :(

Katniss

There's a clock on our wall; it's digital with green letters. It's really no more interesting than any of the other furnishings in the room, until I find out it talks. At six o'clock sharp, it informs Storm and I that it is dinnertime. She gets up. I do not. Of course, she mocks me for this.

"Miss your sister too much to eat?" Storm asks faux-sweetly, right before she steps out the door.

I grit my teeth but don't look up from smushing my face into my paper-thin pillow. "Shut the fuck up, Storm."

"I think I've touched a nerve," she says proudly. Way too proudly. "I just wouldn't expect you to be the type to miss a meal- you know, given your background in poverty."

I tell her to shut up again, even though she's right, and this time she leaves for real. I still don't look up- I hear the door slide shut behind her, and that is enough.

I still can't fall asleep. I lie awake and ruminate- one of the worst things I could do right now, arguably. There's an alternate world where I can do something about this, I'm sure. Where saving Prim is fully in my power. In this world, in my life that's real, it's truly hopeless. She's in the Capitol, as far from my reach as she possibly could be, and I'm expected to just roll over and take it. Because it's for the greater good.

Maybe my persistent gut instinct is wrong, and she'll be treated well. Maybe even released. Somehow, I doubt it. No matter what Haymitch thinks- or wants me to think- the Capitol would never ignore the valuable hostages they've managed to secure.

It's not a matter of if. It's a matter of when. The time will come that the Capitol uses the captured families against us, and everything I know about District Thirteen and the rebels tells me they won't bend to any demands. Prim and the rest of them will become collateral damage.

An hour later, the clock goes off again. Instead of the polite, robotic voice that instructed us to eat dinner, it's a harsh beep followed by a sterner version of the same robotic voice. "Announcement underway. Please report to the auditorium."

I decide to ignore it, but just a moment later, it beeps again and the message repeats. I give it another second, and my door slides open of its own accord. They really aren't messing around with this.

As much as I hate being outwitted by machinery, I decide to obey. I can't stay camped out in my room forever, and I have to admit I'm curious about what this "announcement" might be. Who knows- maybe I'll learn something.

Thanks to Effie's tour, I'm able to find the auditorium pretty easily. It helps that it's huge. Jam-packed, also. That part, I don't really like- I've never liked crowds- but the better to blend in with, I guess. Now that I'm dressed all in gray, I could maybe pass for a regular District Thirteen citizen, but my wild hair and scratched cheeks make sure I still stand out, not to mention, my face has been all over TV for the past few weeks.

I don't know what would happen if someone recognized me…but I don't want to find out, either. In a way, if no one knows who I am, it's like I don't have to be her either. I don't have to process the horrible separation of me and everything I know and knowledge of my family, left behind.

I slip into the crowd on the fifth or sixth floor- I don't know which, and it really doesn't matter. I can't see very well, but that doesn't matter either. There are screens on the wall projecting what's going on. So far, not much. The screens all show an empty podium. I guess our President is late to the party.

Not for long, though. A ripple moves through the crowd and I see Alma Coin's face for the first time. She's an older lady, but she has no smile lines, and her gray hair nearly blends into the gray of her uniform aside from the few strands of lighter silver that frame her face. Above all, she is serene. I feel no pull to trust her any more than I trust our dear President Snow.

The real surprise is who takes her right hand. Gale, my Gale. His face is like a stone, but nothing could stop me from recognizing him. I guess his position as the Mockingjay has earned him this place of honor.

"District Thirteen, hear me," Coin announces, her voice booming throughout the room. "We have achieved great things today. We have begun…the rebellion!"

She's the picture of calm as the crowd explodes around her. My heart rate rises with the applause, more from proximity than anything else. I want to be excited about the uprisings and goal of upending of the Capitol; I really do. But to me, the rebellion will always be secondary to the consequences stemming from it, so until Prim is safe and sound, my loyalties will lie with the life I know.

"We rescued seven children from the Capitol's clutches, along with a number of their mentors and our conspirators." Coin acknowledges Gale for the first time with a slight nod. "Most importantly, we brought national attention to our cause, and we ignited the fire that will someday consume the Capitol."

Every time she says "we", I'm pretty sure she means "I". There's something about this woman…sharp, calculating…that makes me certain she wants all the glory for herself.

"Of course, there is still much work to be done."

Foolishly, a glimmer of hope sparks within me, and I assume she will next detail a rescue mission for the detained families. Hint: she does not.

"We have allies in every district who have sowed the seeds of revolution…but enough of sowing; now we must raise our weapons!" Coin declares. More cheering- I clap along to avoid looking like the odd one out, my heart pounding in my throat. She quiets the crowd with a stern look. "But as usual, our greatest weapon is words. Our Mockingjay, Gale Hawthorne, and former Gamemaker Plutarch Heavensbee-"

For a moment, Gale and Coin disappear from the screen and Plutarch nods at a camera with a secretive smile.

"-along with several other team members will be responsible for creating propaganda that will unite the districts," Coin concludes. "The Capitol has ruled with fear for far too long- we must spread the truth, convince everyone to fight! Are you with me?"

The resounding applause is deafening. Apparently, they're with her.

Being jostled by the crowd around me reminds me that I'm part of they now too. Or else. How things have changed. This morning I had to be as complacent as possible to avoid being wanted for treason in the Capitol. Now I must be as rebellious as possible to fit in in District Thirteen. I can now safely say nothing as ever gone as I planned it.

The announcement goes one for quite a while, but it becomes more of a news report than a rousing speech. Districts One, Two, and Seven apparently have the strongest rebel presence. At first, that surprises me. The two main Career Districts? Really? Then I remember it was Turquoise who started all this. Unless she was lying about being from District One (which is a possibility, I guess) that proves every district has something to fight for.

I'm relieved when it's over and I can escape back to my room. No one else seems to want to linger either- the crowded viewing decks become crowded hallways, and I panic at being in the midst of it. I've spent too much time watching my back to be comfortable surrounded by people. Old habits die hard.

I slow my pace and cling to the edges of the crowd. I'm in no hurry, really, and it's a small price to pay for the added security of not having anyone on my tail. The crowd thins quickly, anyway. I find myself alone- alone and safe- in a hallway, heading towards the closest thing I have to a home right now.

I'm not alone for long. I hear footsteps behind me, and I turn around quickly, unable to hide the fear in my eyes. I recognize the face, but that doesn't ease my mind at all. Gale. Again.

I scowl and say nothing, insisting he speak first. What do I have to say to him that I haven't already said? No, he's the one who sought me out this time, not the other way around.

"You were sure in a hurry to leave," he comments.

"I still am," I reply shortly. "What do you want?"

"To talk to you." Gale seems to take no notice of my nasty tone. "Really…to apologize to you."

Gale? Apologizing? This should be good.

"I'm listening," I say grudgingly.

He heaves a deep breath. Saying sorry has never been easy for him- never has been for me, either. "The way we left things…wasn't good. I should have told you everything. And I definitely shouldn't have broken up with you."

I think my jaw drops. That's what he is apologizing for? Dumping me when we were in the Capitol? He's a little bit right; that was something he should not have done, but I'll be honest: I've hardly thought of Gale since then. I definitely have not missed him romantically.

I pause, wondering if there might be an "and" in that sentence. There is not. When I don't respond, Gale forges on. "I was so caught up in the rebellion, in being the Mockingjay, I wasn't thinking of you."

That much was clear. Haymitch, by a shocking margin, had been our useful mentor. Gale, with all his stubbornness and secrecy, had been more or less another obstacle.

"I should have been there for you. I'm sorry."

I blink at him a couple times. "This isn't…you asking for me back, is it?"

Somewhat as I expected, Gale looks affronted. "Honestly, I'm surprised I even had to ask."

Rage boils up in me, the only thing I've felt since the crushing emptiness I gained from our earlier conversation. "You can't mean that. You can't mean that. How- what- what kind of person treats someone like you've treated me- abandon me, criticize me, lie to me- and then asks to be taken back like nothing's changed? You're out of your mind, Gale Hawthorne!"

It would seem Gale was completely unbothered, if not for the narrowing of his already-stormy eyes. He's a master at hiding his emotions- something he picked up from his own time in the arena, I presume. "So you feel nothing for me."

"It doesn't matter what I feel for you," I retort. The truth is, I have no idea what I might feel for Gale at this moment in time. "I have bigger things to worry about."

It's my favorite: dunking on Gale Hawthorne. I definitely made him more of an asshole than he actually in the books but that's the point of fanfic right?