When The Canary Sings

Four-Fifty-One.

First Person Point of View: Becca Blue: 

* 

"Four-fifty-one." I say, "interesting number."

"Why?" Finnick says, as of now, I'm supposed to be sleeping, but I'm not. Finnick is supposed to be on watch, not watching for bombers. Just watching Peeta. My head is leaning on the sire of his arm, and my hands picking at my nails.

"It's the temperature paper burns at." I say. "Just a random connection."

"Go to bed." He says a little sternly, he's obviously stressed.

"Do you really think Peeta will do something? I don't."

"I dunno, kiddo–"
"You don't know him though. Not like me." I whisper, "you don't even know how bad it was. Wait, no you do. Sorry." I say, "I mean like, trapped. Well, I guess you know that too. I can't think. I'm try—"

"Sleep. Now."

"Fuck."

"Language." He smirks, looking down. He nudges me with his shoulder, "now go to sleep before you get us both sent home." If you knew, you'd be running home.

"Night." I mutter, curling my knees to my chest, and leaning my weight into his side.

In the morning they have me shoot some glass off a building, I tell them that's browning. Haven't they learned anything from the Hunger Games? The people want to see blood. For blood is what fuels the hunger for freedom.

Katniss, Finnick, Gale and I all play a game with Peeta called Real or Not Real. It helps him with his memory. I let him in on things only he would remember. Like when he found me and Will wrestling in the mud in the middle of the night. Or one night when I was playing a show, and he was dancing with some town girl, but his eyes were on Katniss the whole time.

"True story," I say, "I remember it like it was yesterday."

"Oh," Peeta hums, and then goes back to asking Finnick questions about the games. Look at me! Helping people out!

Later, they want us to dress up in this heavy ass armor because apparently the Star Squad isn't doing it's best. They're basically gonna fake a battle.

Remember what I said about Coin feeding the people lies in search for chips to cash in?

Yeah.

As I swing my guns around my fingers, I watch Peeta stare at some guy named Pollux. He's an avox.

'You're an avox, aren't you?' He asks, Pollux nods. "Yeha, I can tell you the way you swallow. There were two Avoxes with me in prison. Darius and Lavinia, but the guards mostly called them the redheads. They'd been our servants in the Training Center, so they arrested them, too. She got lucky, they used too much voltage and she died instantly. It took days to finish him off. Chopping off parts. Beating him. Asking him questions, but he couldn't speak, so he made these horrible sounds. Like an animal. They didn't want information from him, though. They wanted me to see it." He finishes.

"Holy shit, man." I say, whipping my head over to him. "Don't gotta tell 'em everything."

"Real or not real." Silence. "Real or not real?!"

"Real." I nod, "I would know, I was there." I say, cocking my head, shrugging my shoulders and smiling. Then walking off. Man, my head is really really really super ultra mega messed up.

The propo that they have us shoot is sort of fun...for being in a warzone. We walk down a hazy street, I walk with two guns ahead of me, constantly pulling the trigger, and when I need to reload, Gale takes over.