When The Canary Sings

Ready...Aim...Fire!

First Person Point of View: Becca Blue: 

* 

I throw myself into training, just like Katniss and Johanna did. My main goal is clear: get to the Capitol and blow Snow's brains out. Will's worried, of course. I can see it in his eyes, and I know he's not thrilled about the idea of sending me back to the Capitol, especially after everything I went through there. But I can't stop now. There's a fire burning in me, one that won't let me quit.

For the first time in a long time, I'm actually trying at something. I even started taking my medicine again, but that didn't last long. All it did was make me tired and miserable, and I want to be happy, damn it. If the meds aren't doing that, then I'm done with them. I've also started showing up on time for things, stopped wandering aimlessly, and even stopped picking fights with Plutarch and Coin, though I still hate them both with a burning passion. I don't hesitate to talk about Coin to anyone who'll listen, and Johanna's usually the one who does. Because Johanna hates everyone, some more than others.

Of course, training is daunting. It's basically like training for the games, except more hard core. I lag behind a lot, especially when we're on the long runs. But I do try, I push myself hard, and at the end of the day I collapse into Will's arms.

Even Will has started to join the effort. He spends days with Beetee, and sometimes long hours debating with Coin. He comes back to the compartment frustrated because Coin likes to just blow things up without a care in the world. Bombs, bombs, and more bombs. She justifies it by saying it's the same thing they did to District Twelve. Will says we can't solve anything if all we're doing is blowing each other up. There's Peeta's logic.

During training, they also have these super realistic simulators of going into war. It sends us in with a squad, and we have to carry out missions. Like the games, the whole thing is totally rigged. And really realistic. Soldiers, smoke bombs, loud noises, real fire. It's basically like being in the games again. Every single time, I feel my stomach twist up in knots before I go in, but I always remind myself none of it's real. Nothing can kill me, unless I kill myself. Plus, they let me train with the other victors instead of the kids my age.

When Peeta finally started training, I hung out with him and Johanna a lot. Mostly because I could crack jokes about the torture and not get weird looks. I call us the Capitol Club. Because we were in the Capitol. Some people don't get the joke.

The Cressida lady has been filming everything, and I mean everything. Also, everyone has gotten new, and fancy weapons from Beetee. That makes me think something big is coming up.

Katniss has her special bow and arrow, Gale has his, and Finnick has that wicked trident. Johanna's getting an ax, and now it's my turn to see what Beetee's got for me.

I make my way down the long hallway towards special defense. It takes some convincing, but I finally get the guard at the door to let me in. Inside, I find Beetee at a table, tinkering with some metal gadgets. "Beetee! Long time no see," I say with a bright smile, announcing myself as I walk into the room. His head lifts, and he gives me a small smile. He's still bound to that wheelchair, but knowing him, it probably has a million special functions.

"Ah, Becca, glad to see you're getting better," he says, motioning for me to come over. He wheels himself across the room to another table, and I follow with a bounce in my step, overly excited about what weapon he's come up with for me. Poison, maybe? Or a slingshot?

"Here we are," Beetee says, holding up...a black belt? Or is it a harness? Whatever, it looks useless. I can feel my smile drop and my shoulders slump. It's just a black strap that goes across my chest, and then wraps around my hips like a belt. Beetee chuckles, "don't get too disappointed yet."