One Fire: A One Direction Fan Fiction

8

8

   I said my goodbyes to Louis, Liam, Niall and Zayn in the morning. They still didn’t know about what I had witnessed before the feast. Apparently, somehow, I had managed to convince them I had never seen anything of an uprising in my life. At least I’d convinced someone of something on the Victory Tour.

   The next day, I was freed from the duties of a victor, and Leah, Ed and I moved out into the forest. Ed wasn’t a hunter, but he still liked accompanying us on some days to sing to the birds.

   “What’s wrong, Haz?” he finally asked me.

   Even I could tell, though I’d done a good enough job at convincing the blazing boys, I wasn’t doing great at hiding everything from my friends back home. What use was there for lying to them? So I start where President Snow had; when Niall had told me to take the bow, and launch into my explanation, like I had when I’d confessed to Simon.

   “And he threatened to kill you two if I screwed up, which I did,” I finish.

   “Why did he threaten to kill us?” Ed asks.

   I shrug and shake my head in response. “I don’t know,” I reply, “Because I love you guys. The offer goes to Gemma and my mum too. And probably your families, and the lads.”

   “Wait, we’re all in danger and you didn’t even warn us?” Leah asks. I can sense a hint of anger in her voice.

   “I haven’t seen you since he threatened me. Last I saw you two was just before that happened,” I tell her.

   “Okay,” she snaps, “But you were just going to let us live without knowledge of this. Screw up again and let us and our families die because you don’t know of a way to fix your mistakes yet?” I see her porcelain face beginning to turn red with anger and hatred towards me.

   “I never said that,” I say, nearly mimicking her harsh tone with my defense.

   “Well maybe you were thinking it!” she’s nearly screaming at me now. She hikes her game bag higher up on her shoulder, and her knuckles are white from her tight grip on her bow. Her icy eyes are now darker than I ever could have believed they could be. With one sound, almost like a grunt, she turns on her heel and heads back in the direction of the fence, with her kills today ready to be sold to the people of Twelve. She was mad, and I had somehow managed to screw up again.

   Ed and I are left alone. So far, I had let Leah get all the shots, so my game bag is empty, not that I needed the food anymore anyway. Instead of firing arrows, Ed and I just walk, and he tries to calm me, telling me Leah would get over it soon enough, as she would tend to if ever infuriated. But I wasn’t so sure. I knew it would take something big to make this up to her.

   We begin to head back again, and are soon over the fence and back in Twelve. We pass the old shack where I used to live, still uninhabited, where I shed my bow, arrows, game bag, and even my jacket. It was getting warm in the district after the snowfall before the Victory Tour, anyway, and I had nothing to bring back home today.

   Ed asked me if I was sure I was done with the woods for today. I said yes. He suggested we go and sing to the mockingjays. I said no. It was hurting my heart, just the thought of having Leah mad at me. But today was the first day I had gotten a chance to tell her there was danger, and an impending uprising. First my motivation for the stunt with the arrows, and now this; why did nobody believe me whenever I was telling the truth?

   We continue to walk in silence, from the rows of small shacks until we reach the square, where a thick crowd of people is shouting profanities and gasping at an event occurring at its middle. The crowd is too thick to see through, but I can tell it’s something awful.

   Ed, suddenly, leaves my side, and is running to the crowd, managing to push through. I follow, feeling my heart beating a mile a minute. But this feeling doesn’t last long, when I hear a familiar, female shriek coming from in front of me which nearly makes my heart stop all together.

   When I reach the middle, I see a man dressed in a familiar uniform meant exclusively for the Head Peacekeeper, but this is not Torin Clyde, it’s someone I’ve never seen before in my life. In District Twelve, whether or not you remembered names, you knew faces. This person was not familiar.

   Dead animals were scattered on the ground everywhere and an empty, brown shoulder bag joined it all. A terrified face, one of a porcelain angel is there on the ground, perfect skin exposed from the neck down to her hips.

   To me, this makes no sense until I see the strange man raise his arm, preparing to crack a bullwhip on Leah.