Charlotte POV
They are going to kill me. They are going to kill me and that will kill Dan, too. I want to tell him that it's okay. That no matter what they do to me it isn't his fault. But nobody here will ever dare to let him know that. They want him to believe that my dying breath was filled with spite for the boy that saved my life in the Arena.
All this is now is a waiting game. Dan waiting to hear about me. Me waiting to die. The Capitol waiting for their next chance to kill.
I think back to my dad. He has nothing now, nothing but the house and the carvings on its walls. I can only pray that he is not as heartbroken over me as he was when my mom died. Perhaps he is burying his pain in his work at the mines - maybe some of the other miners have even tried to console him over my "death". If only he knew...I miss him so much. All I want is to go home and forget everything that has happened. Dan wouldn't be in 13, I wouldn't be here, nobody in those Games would be dead.
It's hard to remember what exactly happened now. I remember my life back home, but everything surrounding the Games is stuck in a slew of fog. Whenever the peacekeepers come in and force me to take the powder, the Games seem even foggier, like I can't remember what's real about them and what's not. All I know about Dan was that he was my District partner, that he's the blacksmith's son, and that he escaped the Games, too.
I can't stop thinking that if it weren't for him, I wouldn't be in the Capitol now.
Dan POV
I wake up numb again. The Games may be over, but I will never escape the Arena in my dreams. Every night, it's a dream about Charlotte. Waking up only to realize that I am, in fact, in District 13 is the hardest part - I would much rather never wake up.
It's been another week. Already, it's hard to believe that I've gone yet that long again without talking to Charlotte or even seeing her face. I've been making my daily visits to Command, and each time, Alma Coin, one of the Command Leaders, updates me on Charlotte's escape plan. No news of potential break-out times. Not any new information on what they are doing to Charlotte. It is said that it involves hallucinogenic drugs, among other things. I overheard the words "torture" and "starvation" be used several times.
Thinking back to home, I wonder how everyone is doing. My mom, my dad, my brother, my best friend...I especially want to know how Maisie, my little cousin, has dealt with this whole thing. She's only five years old, and my family took her in after my aunt died of a sleep syrup overdose - Maisie's dad died in a mine collapse when she was about a year old. Seeing as my little brother wasn't going to treat her any different than he had treated me, I took it upon myself to protect Maisie whenever she needed my help. I would even take her to the square every now and then to buy pastries from the bakery.
I shake the thought as I realize that my family can carry on without me. What I need to focus on now is how to help District 13 get Charlotte out of the Capitol.
I haven't been allowed to have a schedule printed on me, most likely because of my "mental health issues", but I know that I am due in Command by 1:00 today, which is about an hour away. Twiddling my thumbs as I leave my compartment to wander the underground District, I decide against going to get lunch, partially because I feel undeserving when Charlotte does not have the luxury of good meals right now, and also partially because the stress has made me feel no hunger.
As it figures, I am just putting my foot into the elevator as a soldier beckons me to come to Command with him right this instant. We half-jog to Command, and the soldier impatiently swipes his key to get into the room.
"What's happened?" I ask.
"We have an aircraft coming in," Coin answers me.
"Carrying what?" I ask.
I get nothing but ignored.
"What's in the aircrafts?" I ask again, more sternly this time.
Alma turns to me and smiles, "We got your family out of Twelve."
