I Am The Mockingjay.

Chapter Thirteen

Gale
The sun rises slowly above the trees projected out my window. It's warm glow against the green of the forrest silhouettes the trees in a calming light. If only it was real.
I didn't sleep last night. Who could if they knew they were going to the arena the next morning? My eyes burn with exhaustion and I blink them a few times. I slowly sit up in my bed. My eyes close.
Here goes.
I take a short, cold shower, and when I return to my room I throw on jeans and a T-shirt. As if on cue someone knocks on my door. It startles me because it's not followed by the shrill voice of Effie. I slowly approach the handle and open it. Portia stands in the hallway. She takes a deep breath when she sees me.
"It's time." She murmurs.
   I nod my head slowly and gulp down a lump in my throat. For a second no one moves. Portia examines my facial expressions, her fears mirroring mine. She takes a deep breath and then leads me down the hall.
   Our travels are a blur to me. She takes me down the elevator to the training center and down a maze of hallways. Up a few more elevators. My heart beats so loud in my chest it seems to echo off the pristine white walls. The only thing I can concentrate on is the ground.
Suddenly we are on the roof of the training center. The sun is barely rising against the cityscape of brightly colored skyscrapers. Everything looks fake and I hate it. If I'm going to die I want to see something real beforehand.
My fists clench at my sides. Hate. It's all I can think about. I hate the government. I hate Snow. I hate these games. I hate that they took Rue from her family. I hate that they reaped Dawn. I hate that they reaped me. I hate that Katniss doesn't know how I feel about her. I hate. I hate. I hate...
Portia interrupts my thoughts as she touches my shoulder. She walks in front of me and stares directly into my eyes. It's as if I had been saying all those things out loud; I'm sure she knows. A ladder lowers down from a hovercraft above us.
Before I can wrap my hand around one of the rungs she very swiftly puts a finger to her lips.
Quiet. Don't let them know your anger yet...
She then climbs on to a ladder identical to mine and a current of air freezes us in place. Panic suddenly creeps into my mind. I can't move. The ladder slowly pulls us up. I try desperately to break free from the ladder. But I can't. I can feel my heart pounding again but this time out of fear, my animal instinct tells me to get out.
Too soon it seems we're in the hovercraft and I watch as Portia is allowed to be free. I am not. A woman in a hospital gown walks towards me from out of no where with a huge needle in her hand. Without hesitation and with no possible retaliation from myself she plunges the metal into my forearm.
Ow! My head yells.
I watch in horror as a glowing light moves through my vein and stops at my elbow. Then the current stops and I stumble off the ladder.
"Thanks for the warning..." I mumble to Portia as she leads me to the front of the hovercraft.
   We sit down in hard metal seats across from each other. I guess the luxury stops today, and I shift uncomfortably. Portia avoids my gaze as I feel my stomach drop, telling me we've started ascending. That's just fine though. I guess it's better to stop trusting people now. I look out the window only to see a blur of a world flying past us. I resolve to clenching my fists and staring only at the floor.
   At some point during the flight the windows dim and then black out. We're nearing my final destination. I steal a glance at Portia and she examines me nervously and with guilt filled eyes. I avert my eyes back to the floor. Hate, hate, hate, I hate, I hate...
   Suddenly we stop moving. And the closer I get to my probable death, the greater the rage in my chest grows. I can hear the blood rushing in my ears and my heart pounding in my chest. Portia leads me off the hovercraft and down another million sets of stairs and hallways. The only thing I can register to follow her is the click of her heels against the metal, Capitol clean, floor. My rage blinds me.
    Finally we arrive in a small white room and Portia closes the door behind me.
"Gale..." Portia begins, but the sound my my fist hitting the wall next to me makes a sound that echoes around the room, and startles her silent.
    "What!" I yell. "What could you possibly say to me now!" I turn around and watch as she jumps at the sound of my voice. She doesn't say anything.
  I run my fingers angrily through my hair and start to pace the room.
    "C'mon Portia! Tell me! What could you say? Good luck? I hope you win? I'm sorry?!" I wait for an answer, my desperation for something human, something real, evident in my voice.
     Portia's golden eyes suddenly turn icy cold and she walks briskly towards me and wraps her thin fingers around my throat. It's then that I realize she's stronger than she looks. She shoved me against the wall, glaring up at me and her hand tightening around my trachea. I start to wheeze. But I fear trying to resist would unleash something more dangerous.
   "Snow murdered my family in front of my eyes." She whispers menacingly, he breath sending chills down my spine as it hits my face. "He tortured each and every one of them in front of me my mother, my brother, my husband, my daughter...all of them. He did it himself. And as he forced me to watch he looked me in the eyes and he smiled at me."
   Her grip tightens around my throat and I gasp, but she continues.
    "As I screamed for him to stop he told me I was the one who was doing it. It was my fault. Because I tried to leave. To rebel against him, against the Games, against everything."
   I struggle to breath against her hold on my neck but I'm frozen in place.
   "And so now, I'm his slave." She spits out with disgust and rage. "So, Gale, what I was going to say," she stands on tip toe to look me dead in the eyes, "let him know your rage."
   That was a statement I wasn't expecting. But she continues further.
   "Let him know your rage. Make him pay, make them all pay...and then get back to her."
   With that her hand drops from my throat and I slump against the wall, coughing. She walks away without another word to a box in the corner of the room and pulls out the clothes I will wear in the Games. She folds them neatly on a metal table and then looks over at me, still stunned from her sudden retelling of events.
   "Get dressed."