Author's Note
I do not own the Hunger Games.
Andreas Amandiel, 18
"We must remember that we are meant to be the civilised ones!" Andreas declared, waving a hand at their glorious skyscrapers behind him. "What society can progress while watching children fight to their deaths?"
His gatherings attracted more and more attendees now. Interest had only continued to grow when he entered the political arena as an intern. The Games had been a horror, but done wonders for his reputation.
"You grew angered at the death of our own children, and yet we watch twenty three of them die every year? Think on it! How can we continue and call ourselves civilised?"
Applause ran through the square. Andreas stepped down from the stage to where Carnelion was waiting for him.
"I think that was the best one yet," he said with a grin.
"People are listening."
That was what they needed. For people to listen. Andreas took no pleasure from what had happened to him, but it had been good for opening the public's eyes.
A long, sleek car pulled up alongside the stage. A short, brunette woman stepped out, accompanied by a Peacekeeper. Andreas recognised her, she worked at the presidential building.
"Andreas Amandiel?" she asked.
"That's me. Can I help?"
She beckoned him towards the car. "You are wanted in a meeting. Please, come with me."
"Can Carnelion come?"
"I'm afraid it's only you we want, Mr Amandiel."
Carnelion squeezed his arm. "I'll pack up here and meet you at yours. It's alright."
"Thanks."
The woman ushered him into the car before climbing in herself, followed by the Peacekeeper. Andreas waited until the door closed and turned to her. "So what's this really about?"
Zephyr Almon, 13
Everywhere he went he saw dead people and yet he never saw Celeste.
Zephyr had taken to carrying one of her dolls with him, switching them out every day but keeping them clutched against his chest. They were a way of hiding when it got too bad.
Luminita came round most often, and she understood him a little, but no one else did. Not even Phoenix, who was the other survivor closest to his age. Emeria wanted to talk him into removing his blindfold, believing that he needed to face the world. Ares believed he needed to toughen up a little and face his fears. Even his parents said he needed to start living again.
Zephyr still couldn't look them in the face. He hated watching the works crawl on their empty eye sockets.
Every day the storm came a little closer. Celeste had known it, and now Zephyr knew it too. They could persuade it away, if only they would start being kinder to others.
But this country was built on the blood of children.
The waves of nature would come and rip it all away.
Zephyr opened his door and looked up at the man waiting there. "Is it time to go?"