The 76th Hunger Games

Chapter Five. The Verdict.

I stare at my lap which is still covered with the limp sack. I hear different voices all around me but I don't even try to listen to what they are saying. It's been the same ever since I woke up from the sedation; Everyone is talking at me and about me, but no one is talking to me.

I had woken up about two hours ago on a cold concrete floor in an empty room with a locked door. They must have been monitoring me because the moment I awoke a sea of people rushed into the room. One woman had been taking notes,  another had been giving me a list of instructions of what to do; of which I did none. The man I chose to focus on was the one who was reading our my crimes. He rattled on with a long list. "Disobeying orders, questioning authority, Vandalizing city property,  speaking without permission, threatening a previous victor and a soldier." He continued with the list of crimes which I had been unaware of committing in the first place, although I wasn't in a position to challenge him. When he had finished I was once again handcuffed and then lead out of the room.

I was taken to large room filled with chairs, there was an elevated platform at the front of the room with two chairs and a microphone on it. I was instructed to sit in one of the chairs and a guard sat down next to me; this is where I sit now still waiting to be told what is going to happen to me. I keep being asked questions, they keep asking me if what i did was "an act of rebellion" and every time they ask me I hesitate before saying "no, I was just saying my truthful opinion" and every time I answer the person questioning me will let out an exasperated sigh before turning away from me. 

What do they want me to say; yes it was an act of rebellion? I don't know what I was trying to achieve by jumping off the carriage but I know that i don't regret it. Surely it doesn't matter to them weather they punish me or not because even if they don't punish me i am still going to go into the arena and that is punishment enough. I sit in silence  fiddling with my hand cuffed hands in my lap; nervous and confused about what is going to happen.

I jump as someone taps me on the shoulder; I had been in my own world not paying attention to what was happening around me but it was only my guard.

"Time to go." He instructed as he stood up from his chair.

"Go where, what's happening?" My voice is filled with as much fear as my eyes are. The guard laughs,

"You just have to go to another room whilst they come to a verdict." I stand up onto my shaking legs and follow my guard sheepishly out of the room. Our footsteps echo on the stone floor as we walk down a long corridor.

"Where are we?" I ask quietly.

"Why do you need to know?" The guards words cut through the air with a sharp edge.

"I don't" I lower my head away from the guards eyes and continue walking. I notice the pictures that hang along the walls all down the corridor. The picture nearest to me is of a small open hand holding three dark berries over a shattered Panem crest. Wherever we are it must be owned by the rebels; all of the artwork shows stages of the rebellion. The hand in that painting was katniss'. I remember watching those games with my grandfather, the games where it all started, the games where Katniss held out those berries and started the rebellion. If it wans't for those games I wouldn't be here right now. If it wasn't for those games I could be at home now, watching the highlights of the opening ceremony of the normal 76th hunger games with my brother and both of my parents. Tears prickle my eyes when I think about my brother and my father, if the rebellion never happened they would still be alive.
The door slams shut behind me as I am left in the room that I woke up in earlier. I hear a click as the lock slides into place and don't even try to protest. What's the point? Whatever I do I'm not going to have any affect, so I might aswell do as they say. Even if I'm only doing it to keep my mother safe.
I think about her now. What is she doing now when I'm in this cell? Is she at home watching the TV for updates? Does she even know about my out burst? I secretly hope that she didn't see what happened.  I don't want her to worry about me, I wish she will just get used to the idea that I am going to die and there is nothing anyone can do about it. Maybe she has got used to the idea. After all she always guessed that I would be picked for the hunger games right after they announced that this special hunger games would be happening. Maybe she has been preparing for the idea that her last child is going to die. But what if she doesn't actually care that much. Am I just being shallow and vain? I CAN'T THINK IN THIS CELL! Tears are streaming down my face as I bash my fists against the door. I want to go home. I wish these games never started!
I hate the victors!  They did this to me. They organised these hunger games! I scream at the top of my voice, with my fists still pounding against the door.
"I hate you Katniss Everdeen! I hate you Peeta Mellark!  I hate all of you victors!" My eyes sting and my throat is dry and sore but I keep screaming.
"Let me out! You are no better than my grandfather!"
I collapse to the floor, short raspy breaths leap from my mouth. I lie in a heap with tears still escaping freely from my eyes. I'm shake with every breath that enters my body. Through my sobs and my gasps for breath I hear a click. The door opens slowly and I try to wipe my face with my arm. A woman walks in comfidently and stands in the door way. She looks young; maybe about 27. Her blonde hair is scraped away from her face into a neat bun that sits on top of her head. She wears a smart black jacket and a black skirt. I try to pick myself up from my heap on the foor but I fail miserably, I only manage to move myself slightly further away from the woman but I stay on the floor.
"The court have reached a verdict." She states. I give her a very slight nod and she continues. "We have decided that you shall continue into the arena to participate in the Hunger games." Why can't they just kill me now? I don't want to live in fear for any longer. If I die at least I will know what Is happening and I will not have to live in fear. But they are not going to kill me now; I have to go into the arena, I have made no difference with my outburst at the opening ceremony. My body trembles and shakes harder, I am petrified of whatever is to come.