ghosts that we knew: A mockingjay fanfiction

Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 8

Madge

It is past time for curfew. The streets of the town square are oddly desolate, and I am still unused to Commander Thread's stringent ruling. Countless nights of quietly creeping outside to the square and handing out provisions to those searching for them from the Seam are distant memories to me now.

Nights of watching coverage of the Hunger Games with Gale Hawthorne perched by my side have disappeared as well. Since his whipping and the beginning of the Quarter Quell, my nights of silently praying for the "Star-Crossed Lovers" and clutching my mug of tea until my knuckles turned white have been spent alone. My contribution was enough to keep Gale alive physically, but I know for a fact that emotionally there is no amount of morphling that can numb the heart of the spectators who are personally linked to the Games.

Tonight, however, I am standing. The mug in my hands has fallen to the ground and lies at my feet in shards. Katniss shoots a wire-covered arrow into the stormy night sky. She and Finnick Odair are propelled several yards from the Lightening Tree, where Beetee lies unconscious. Johanna and Peeta are nowhere in sight as the ceiling of the arena begins collapsing around the fallen victors.

The final image that flickers across my television screen before being replaced with static is Katniss Everdeen being lifted by the clutches of a hovercraft.

I stumble backward, gripping the hem of my nightgown, until the backs of my bare legs collide with my sofa. My mind tells me to sit, process what has happened, and try to create a logical response for the series of events that ends in Katniss and Peeta's safety. My heart tells me to disregard curfew and run to the Hawthorne's as fast as I can.

But I am paralyzed, unable to act upon either notion, to even flinch. I simply stare into the chasm of static before me. I may be the Mayor's daughter, but contrary to everyone's belief, I do not side with the Capitol. Countless years of watching children my age-my father's houseguests, my classmates, my friends-be killed while one slip of paper containing my name remained snuggly tucked at the bottom of that glass bowl has made it nearly impossible for me to grin and bear it. I can tell by the way my father rarely enforces Capitol rules and the way in which he has perfected emotionally detaching himself from his opening speech at the reapings that even he cannot buy into the Capitol. We are both trapped in a position where we cannot express that. I drift to sleep with bitter thoughts against the Capitol and the Hunger Games racing through my mind.

I am dreaming of being wrapped in the deadly fog of the clock-shaped arena when I am awakened by the sound of cannon fire.

Rushing to my window, I gasp in horror as I realize that the sound was not coming from my nightmare, but from whatever has set the neighborhood down the road aflame. My eyes wander to the sky and spot several hovercrafts in formation, travelling in the direction of District Twelve. I watch as each of them releases a humongous, black object that erupts into flames as it collides with the Earth, sending the world around me up in blinding shades of red and the ground quivering beneath me.

The blood-curdling scream that echoes through my halls barely sounds like my own.

My father is at my side instantly.

"Madge, the District is under attack. I have to stay here and send out orders," he tells me, and I can tell by the bags under his eyes that he has also been watching the Games, almost as if he anticipated this alleged attack. I shiver like a leaf in his strong arms and can feel the fear that radiates from his voice. I gaze up at him. He is the Mayor. The Peacekeepers should be protecting us. We should be in a bomb shelter, my father sending orders from a safe place. We are still in the midst of battle and the saddened look in my father's eye tells me that no rescue team is coming for us. The Capitol is angry at Katniss, and angry at the leader whose lenient ruling of his District has raised a rebel and traitor.