The confrontation I was scared for did not come at the Victor’s Banquet. I tried to keep a low profile, which wasn’t easy considering I am one of the most famous people in the country at the moment. It turns out I was very busy posing with the person who sponsored me (I was pretty embarrassed) and other people claiming to have sent me gifts: everyone wanted to think that they were the one that made me win. None of them did. Only Katniss and Thresh helped me.
Everyone jokes after ten o’clock, saying that its time for me to go to bed. They’re making fun of my age, but nonetheless I am eager to get away from everyone when we leave at midnight.
However, I am not tired. I have slept for most of the time since I was in the Games, so all I want to do is run around. Outside. Free.
When I’m sure most people are asleep, I creep out of bed and carefully unlock and open the door. I tiptoe down the corridor to the stairs. The elevator is too loud. I walk up to the roof. I like being high up. Every now and then I turn quickly to make sure no one is following me, but I am alone. It somehow feels like I’m not. It makes me a little scared, but it’s not like I’m in the Games anymore. No one would want to kill me now.
No one but Snow, that is.
The door to the roof is unlocked, which surprises me. I would have thought it would be kept locked so no tributes could ever commit suicide.
I walk out onto the roof, expecting darkness. Instead I am greeted with a thousand shining lights: mostly stars, but also a few lights dotted around the roof and a soft glow from the lit up streets below. I go over to the edge to look down.
I see a shadow appear on the railing, someone behind me. Before I can turn, a hand is over my mouth. It reminds me of when I met Thresh.
When I see the person who is stopping me from shouting out, I almost faint.
The dark skinned boy looks almost exactly like him.
The only difference is that he is around my age. He has all the same features and the same strong sort of build. But he also looks a little friendlier, maybe doesn’t keep so much to himself.
He lets go of me.
“Don’t be scared.”
“I’m not,” I say. I think I can trust him.
“I’m Plough. Thresh was my cousin.”
I don’t know what to say, so I just murmur, “He helped a lot.”
Plough tells me he wants to talk. Maybe be friends. So we sit and talk. About the fields, about District 11, about the Games and Thresh, about the Capitol. He is the one who tried to meet Thresh.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“For what?”
“That he died.”
“But you lived. And he was right about what he told you, he was difficult to take care of. He had to eat certain foods in certain amounts and always needed more insulin, it was very expensive so most of the family had to pitch in. Are you nervous about the interview tomorrow?”
I nod. “Very. I’m worried I’ll start crying or I won’t be able to answer a question. Also, apparently Snow doesn’t like how I “conquered” the Games, so I have to be careful what I say or I might end up in a tragic train crash on my way home.”
He laughs.
“They don’t want dead victors. Don’t worry about the interview. Pretend you’re talking to me.”
“Why?”
“Because then it’s like you’re talking to a friend. I hope you don’t mind me saying that? You would be honest, yet appropriate. I think some other tributes use the same method with their escort, stylist or District partner.”
He’s quiet for a bit.
“Why are you up? How did you get here?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I was angry with my family. It was a few days ago, just after you won. I was really upset and everyone acted like nothing had happened. I hitchhiked here. It was hard, not many cars or any other modes of transport I can sneak onto go from 11 to the Capitol. I wanted to get to you. I’m good with locks. And I’m good at hiding and following people.”
I laugh. “It sounds creepy when you put it like that.”
“It’s weird,” he says, “You seem so much older than me. But you’re a year younger. Why is that?”
“I don’t know. Everyone wants me to be older. They want a mature victor, I guess. I’m not what they want. Even though the Games made me feel really old, I’m still not the ideal, beautiful, heartbreaking, talented victor the Capitol wants.”
“You may not be what the public wants, but if you change for them, you won’t be what the people who really care about you want anymore. We’d better go. I shouldn’t be here, and you have that interview tomorrow.”
I’m disappointed when I get back to my room. I liked talking with Plough. I wonder where he will sleep tonight. He suits his name, ploughing reminds me of spring and new beginnings, before anything is planted. This is the start of a new stage in life for me.
Maybe now I’ve made a friend that will help me get through it.
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Rue's Games
FanfictionWhen disaster strikes in the Hunger Games, Rue must fend for herself. Can she win the Games and become a victor? Beyond that, can she aid a rebellion aged only thirteen? This is a fanfiction that I wrote because Rue is my favorite character in the H...
