One last time

Chapter 2

There she stood. Katniss Everdeen. Victor and escapee, not to mention practically the leader of the rebellion that caused the deaths of everyone I loved. We know shes no mastermind but she was the face of the rebellion. I don't need to know anything more about her, I would happily see her dead. Her classic chocolate brown hair tied into it's usual braid hanging over her right shoulder, she stands above us, surrounded by 4 body guards. I assume they are most likley there to protect her only because her pyshco district partner waits a few feet behind. He is more likely to hit her than I am. At this moment, either of those circumstances are highly possible. During the war we didn't hear much about what happened to the tributes from the last hunger games "on our side". They were publicly supporting the Capitols war ethics, accept the rumours all stated that they were tortured in some way that meant they were left barley functionable. I couldn't care less.

The blur of teenagers vibrate with loathing when Paylor begins to speak: Katniss and Peeta at her side.

"Hello tributes. As you know after we deafeted your presdient there was a vote which concluded in the agreement for this final Hunger Games. Training will begin tomorrow, There will be no capitolised parades or interviews because no one cares. There will still be sponsors and betting based purely on your training scores. Finally, you may all be wondering about the means of a victor. This years victor will be simply given a truce by our government. You will be left in peace. That's all. Oh, and May the odds be ever in your favour."

The tall muscular woman leaves the room quickly and silently with an emotionless expression, one blonde tendril of hair infront of her face. Peeta follows, fists clenched and Katniss barley makes it too the door before a body guard is forced between her and Mason as he launches himself in her direction, just managing one scratch are her arm before the man simply shoves him harsly aside, kicking him while he is down. Katniss glances in my direction. Her eyes intense and pained. The room is left in dead silence after the heavy metal doors clang shut.

I slowly push through the crowd and approach the boy as he lays unconcious by the door. It wasn't hard because the huddle had diverced and people hurried away to there own individual spots. Mason's dark eyelashes flutter as he comes to. "I hate that bitch" he mutters once sat upright, clutching his side. He notices me and looks puzzled. "Thalia, isn't it? Thalia Leopris. I stayed with your family during the rehousing."

"You did." I reply, not bothering to note all of my family are now dead. He probably knows anyway since my mother's murder was broadcasted to the whole nation. I wonder how his family are doing. If they are alive and how they are coping. If they are it wouldn't matter. I doubt we're getting to see anyone before the games. I'm pretty sure these games will be rushed so there will be no time for silly goodbyes. "Are you okay?" I ask. "You could hear you hit the floor from the back of the room"

"I'll be fine, just wish I could have got close enough to her. Close enough to get a good look at her, to imagine her eyes rolling back in her head. She'll remember my face now though. So when I'm on the screen she will know.. she'll know..." he stutters, unsure of how to explain that if she watches she'll know we are just like her; like she was when she was reaped. She is no better than us. I thought of not saying anything because we both know what he meant but I felt it obligatory to question if we are aloud to feel such things. I mean both sides in this war are equally as pathetic. Our leaders kill their people so then they kill ours. Humanity doesn't exist here. It's just a constant battle for power.

I settle for a quick "I know" and sit down next to him. I understand Mason's confused expression just I notice we are the only two who aren't sat alone. Everyone knows we'll be attempting to kill each other in a few days time but still? Capitol people are known for there social skills... I would have expected our first instincts to be get as many allys as possible but I've been wrong before. My family bet on the District 11 male in Katniss' first games.

After what seems like hours we are all taken away one by one to our own rooms. When I say room I don't mean the usual luxury game preperation apartments I've seen when mother used to bring me to work, I mean a small bedroom and bathroom. Nothing but a simple single bed with deep blue sheets, matching the walls and drapes; a small bed side table and no windows meaning we were taken into the bunkers below the mansion. When ordered to bed, I am given a silk nightgown, a cup of milk and a slice of bread. I sip the milk whilst sat in the corner of the room listening to the floor echo the sounds of my long painted finger nails tapping on the cold wood. I'm not sat for long before streams of tears smudge my make-up. I go into the bathroom and wash the paint from my face and seeing the real me for the first time in years. My roots are beginning to show and it is clear I have been nervously biting my lip but when I look closer, I see my mothers glittering eyes, My fathers strong cheek bones, even small pieces of Aran and my aunt Melanie in my reflection but feel nothing but emptiness inside of this shell.

I grieve until I fall asleep, drifting to and from dreams varying from sweet family memories to nightmares of being torn apart by hideous creatures that resemble them slightly. I wake up frequently to the feeling of being watched. The feeling finally making sense when I wake for the 3rd time as the door creaks slowly open.