Breaking Down Bridges ▸ Hunger Games

Chapter Eleven: Cyra Merison

A/N: The Opening Ceremony part is short, because there are much more important things to be explained. —GryffindorGirl (GG)

Chapter Eleven:

Cyra's POV

When I'm with him I am

Thinking of you, thinking of you

What you would do

If you were the one who was spending the night?

Oh, I wish I was looking into your eyes

—Katy Perry "Thinking of you"

The Reaping day was terrible. Finnick, Shawn and I stood together as we waited for clearly the most predictable Reaping Panem has ever seen.

Before the reaping, I wandered around the rubble that used to be my homeland. This is where I had grown up,  where I wanted my kids to grow up. This is the right place, with the right kind of atmosphere... But it wasn't the right world. And now the atmosphere I had wanted them to have was gone, too.

As I continued to walk along one of the few remaining stretches of beach in District Four, I continued to think about the life I had now, and I connected it to the life I had a year ago.

I was married to someone I hated. 

I was going back into the Hunger Games.

My family was dead.

The love of my life wasn't speaking to me.

Did I mention it was my sixteenth birthday?

~

After the Reaping, I boarded the train to the Capitol and was preparing for my death... until I received a phone call that puzzled me.

"Miss Merison," the voice crackled through the line, as I reached to pick it up that night.

"Yes?" I replied.

"You inspired us. You showed us that the world we live in is wrong, and that we have to change it. We have a plan to change it, Violet Wolf."

I paused for a moment, as they told me the plan. To keep us in the arena for a certain amount of time, and then get us out of in order to start the rebellion that was currently brewing already.

I smiled at the idea, but then paused. "Who is this anyway?"

There was a deep breath on the other end of the line. "You'll know in time. We can't tell you now, but you'll know. Trust us."

And with that, the phone went silent.

I couldn't tell if this was some kind of joke, or if this was really going to happen. I did keep the idea fresh in my mind. Just in case it was real. Just in case I was really going to help change Panem's ways.

~

My early time in the Capitol flew by and soon it was the night of the opening ceremony.

I sat in the same chair I sat in at the same time. My hair was wrapped in a towel, and still soaked because I had just showered. My wrists were strapped to the chair, along with my ankles, restraining any movement. Frost had the chair made special for me, so that I couldn't move or breathe, or think of doing anything other than getting my makeup done.