Broken (Peeta Mellark Fanfiction)

Chapter 12 - Different World

(Ok you guys. At the moment that I'm writing this, November 19th at midnight, I just came home from seeing Mockingjay Part 2. This franchise has been my life for the past four years, it was freaking amazing oh my goodness. Even though I focus on basing this story more off of the book than the movie, I will still add things that I like from it into this story and I might change a few things but I probably will not do that until I'm finished with it. If you haven't seen MJP2 yet, good luck.)
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When we wake up, Tigris serves us an early morning breakfast consisting of liver pâté and fig cookies. Like we did yesterday night, we gather around the TV as we eat. In one of Beetee's break-ins, we see a new tactic for avoiding the pods in the streets. Someone came up with the idea to send abandoned automobiles down the streets ahead of the troops, so that it sets off any pods in the way, making it safer for the soldiers to pass. They're trying to make their way to the Capitol's heart, marking off every block they've successfully passed so far. Gale starts to criticize the strategy,

"This can't last," he says. "In fact I'm surprised they've kept it going so long. The Capitol will adjust by deactivating specific pods and then manually triggering them when their targets come in range."

Surely enough, they show an unfortunate troop that got terminated by exactly that, all twenty soldiers were blown to bits after their new strategy proved the area to be safe.

Man-made traps created and controlled by man themselves just to kill people? We all might as well be in the Hunger Games. I bet it's people like the Gamemakers who create these tactics, since their work for the Games seemed to be so exciting for them.

"I bet it's killing Plutarch not to be in the control room for this one."

The broadcast goes back to the normal Capitol TV, where news broadcasters are telling which areas civilians need to evacuate from. We can hear the scuffling footsteps outside.

Tigris agrees to be a temporary spy, and tells us she will go out to possibly get any new information that might help us.
So we wait in the cellar, we all try to relax again, but it's hard. Katniss paces back and forth, deep in thought. Gale prompts her to sit down more than once, but she doesn't listen, she just stares around at the walls with her mind probably thinking through all of the outcomes of any possible plans, or even the outcome of this war. When I fiddled around with my cuffs, I noticed her glancing over at me only twice.

When early morning turns into late afternoon, we begin to worry about Tigris, and wonder if she will ever actually return. The others talk over possible things that could've happened to her, until around six o'clock we hear shuffling upstairs. Before I can worry about intruders, the lovely smell of cooking food fills the air as the panel above us opens.

Tigris has prepared us some chopped ham and potatoes, we all seem to rush over to it in a hurry. It's been the first real food we've had in a while. I can feel the saliva building up in my mouth when I finally see the food.

Tigris tells us that she traded her furry garments to Capitol people out in the streets, even with Snow opening his home to citizens, people don't have a place to stay for the night. There is a large crowd of refugees in the City Circle. Peacekeepers are starting to go door to door, searching for places to put all these people, putting them in empty homes or finding hidden citizens to share their homes.

They show the plan on TV, they announce that Snow will accept guests tomorrow, and everyone, including shopkeepers, should be willing to let in anyone in need of a place to stay. When they announce this, I immediately realize what danger it brings to us. We can't stay here anymore.

"Tigris, that could be you." I say.

The news reporter states that anyone who thinks they've seen a rebel, they must report it to authorities. Apparently the crowd ruthlessly beat up a citizen whom they thought was me. They show a picture, and aside from the fresh bruises, the man looks nothing like me besides his blonde hair that is, unlike mine, bleached.