The 73rd Annual Hunger Games

Chapter 21- Blood and Roses

I stare into the harsh coldness of President Snow's eyes, and suddenly smell an overpowering scent of blood and roses. Suddenly, I feel myself break into a smile, and all too mischievous smile.

Cyrus won the Games, just as I wanted him to. Cyrus won. And I'm still alive.

I smirk. "You made a mistake," I say to President Snow. I haven't the slightest idea where my bravery came from, or why I decided to approach him on it.

He laughs shortly, and darkly, the first sign of emotion I've ever seen him produce.

"No, Caspia, it isn't I who has made the mistake." He goes back to a poker face, a blank slate.

I think, and suddenly, it hits me. Why would President Snow be in this hovercraft if he had made a mistake and thought I was dead? Why would he be here at all, unless......

Unless he wanted to kill me himself?!

I take two steps backwards, defensively. "Then who has made the mistake?"

He takes two steps towards me. "You."

I gape. "What did I--?" I start.

"'Rebellion.'" President Snow quotes. My stomach grows cold, the icy fingers reaching up my throat to my head and down to my toes in realization. After I killed the fake Ray, I shouted that, most likely on camera. "That one word has destroyed you, Caspia. And now that you've said it, you'll have your whole life to regret it."

"You-- You mean y-you're not g-gonna kill me?" I stammer.

"Oh, heavens no," Snow says, almost too politely. "Why would I do that?"

"I-I don't--" I start.

"Because if I killed you, it'd be much too easy on you. Oh no, I'll let you live a long, full life. A life of 'rebellion.' You'll truly see how the life of a rebel is. Rebels don't have families, friends, can't be seen. So I'll let you go to your mentors, attend the winner's celebrations. But if you're recognized, I'll make sure your life is even more of a living tragedy than it already is. Then, you'll return to your district, living your whole life in hiding, as a whole example of how horrible a rebel's life really is. And if you decide to keep rebelling, I can just take more from you than I already have." He grins again, an evil glint in his eyes.

Another cold realization pits in my stomach. "What did you do? What did you take? What did you do to my family?" I yell, echoing throughout the shallow hovercraft.

He simply smirks. "We better get you off of the hovercraft. You wouldn't want to be late for the celebrations, would you, Caspia?"

I gulp, hoping it's not noticeable.

Snow's eyes glint in the dying light. The bottom of the hovercraft opens, and a flimsy ladder drops down, leading to the roof of the spectator's building, where the richest Capitol citizens and mentors go to watch the games. He motions with his arm, a false showing of chivalry.

Gathering courage, I smirk, and curtsey. I get on the ladder, and climb down, hopping on the roof. The hovercraft above me disappears, leaving a thin scent of blood and roses.

There's a door on the roof, leading to an elevator, to bring me into the building. A thought hits me as I make my way to the door: What if people recognize me?!

I take my hair out of the braid, and turn my jacket inside out. Close enough to a disguise.

I gaze at myself in the reflection on the shininess of the door. My cheeks are hollowed out, and I've lost a lot of weight, even though I was able to count my ribs easily before the games. My eyes have lost their life, almost, and I have blood and dirt streaked all over any skin that I can see. My uniform is ripped and torn, and hangs loosely over my skin and bones. My hair falls down past my ribs, tangled and matted. My fingernails are caked and broken, and my entire left cheek is bruised, from what, I have no idea. And I still have a light bruise on my forehead from FInnick's chin.