Sugarcubes // Finnick Odair - Hunger Games Fanfic

IV.

"Kendria Parstons," It's the first time somebody except Peeta, after my talk with President Snow, has addressed me by name. My head snaps up so fast that I hit it on the ceiling of the metal cage. "You have been summoned by the honorable President of Panem."

Snow? Why would he call me? I thought what he needed me for was done.

My cage is opened hurriedly, and for the first time, I'm allowed to step out of it unforced. I'm allowed to stand – though I can only do so with assistance from the peacekeeper in question – and walk to Snow's chamber. I have never been allowed to walk anywhere. I have been dragged – usually by my hair – whenever they have needed to take me anywhere.

We walk through what seems like miles and miles of blank, empty white halls. What surprises me the most in all of this, is that we haven't encountered any stairs. Surely the 'dungeon' of sorts, isn't on the same floor as Snow? If all of this is on one floor, and Snow's mansion is a multiple storied house, I can only imagine how big it must be. I've seen it. From the outside, it has never looked so big. I can't think of an explanation. Maybe everything seems bigger when you have been shrunk down to a shell of a person.

When we make it to Snow's study, the first thing I notice is that it isn't white. If I had the energy, I would probably jump for joy. There is wood panelling and a wooden desk. The floors are carpeted and feel warm and fuzzy on my bare feet. There are four peacekeepers in the room, and President Snow sits behind his desk, waiting for me. He gestures for me to sit in a large and comfortable chair in front of him wordlessly. My confusion increases by the minute.

We wait, in silence, for god knows how long. Snow continues to fiddle around with a hologram behind his desk, the peacekeepers continue to stand at attention by the open door, and I continue to sit where I am, barely breathing. The only mildly interesting thing that happens is when I decide to itch my nose. When I move my hand up, four guns cock and two peacekeepers rush to my side. I smile, staring at them incredulously, and itch.

When they return to their positions, I raise my hand again – this time to itch an imaginary spot on my head. The same reaction.

The third time I do so, Snow lets out a sound of displeasure. He sounds like a teacher who is mildly irritated by my behavior. "Kendria," he says, in a tone of warning. I stop.

When he finally abandons his work, and looks up at me, I can see his toothy grin. It makes me sick to my stomach.

"I called you here, Kendria, to ask if you have reconsidered." He says, and seeing my opportunity, I grab it.

"Maybe," I tell him, glancing out at the plate of delicious looking biscuits in front of him. If they have been kept there for me, it is a nasty trick. He smiles. He seems to be in a good mood today. He pushes a plate of biscuits towards me, and I take them on my lap and start eating gratefully. I think it is the first time after I believed the peacekeepers killed my dad that I have ever been grateful to the Capitol. After I've finished the plate, he looks at me expectantly.

"I need water. A bottle," I correct him as he starts to pour out a glass for me. He reaches forward and hands me the full bottle. I chug it down. I've never been so glad to see clean water in my life.

After I push the empty bottle towards him, he starts to speak again. "Kendria,"

I see the screen on his desk – it's a video of the war, and inspiration strikes. "A lot of people want to kill you, president Snow."

It's a fact. Even I want to kill him. I'm sure that there are more people in Panem who want to kill him than actually help him. The only problem is the technology rests in the hands of the few that are loyal to our twisted president.