DEDICATION: To @sofunnyiforgot2laugh because she said it was her birthday. I know this is really late, and I am terribly sorry, but I hope you had a good day anyway :) Two months late is better than nothing, right? :)
Chapter Thirty Four - Home
It was the night of the final interview, and I was rather scared. Almost as scared as I had been when my name had been pulled out of the bowl and when Grayson's name had been pulled out. I was wearing the same outfit as the ceremony yesterday, but my hair was down and weaved with various, flame coloured ribbons, my red ribbon tied around my wrist like it was in the arena. I stood by myself, completely alone. My foot tapped and my teeth chattered. When it came to the time where I had to stand on the plate, my whole body was practically shaking. I had to say the right things and be the smiling mockingjay Panem wanted me to be. Not the rebellious mockingjay like Katniss Everdeen tried to be.
As I was led down the corridor to the interview room, my body started to shake almost uncontrollably. I tried to take deep breaths, but they rattled in my throat, almost as if there was some sort of mini hurricane. Just think of Grayson. You'll be with him soon.
When I was pushed into the room, I was relieved to see that there was no actual audience. Just cameras and the small sofa. Caesar was waiting for me, along with Grayson, who looked up at me from the sofa and smiled in a comforting way, his dimples and wide grin not convincing me; he was scared, too. He wore the same as he did yesterday, but the Capitol had coloured two streaks into one section at the front of his hair: orange and red. It looked a lot better than I thought it would have. "The cameras aren't on yet, Harper. It's okay. You look as white as Caesar's teeth." Grayson said, patting the spot next to him. Caesar laughed heartily, although he didn't look like knew if he should have been or not.
I sat myself down carefully next to Grayson, only to have him inch closer towards me. The glint in the cameras scared me, but I ignored it. I had to ignore it. I focused myself on Caesar, who was now adjusting himself in his own seat.
"Ready?" He asked. I didn't say a word. Grayson nodded. Caesar didn't look convinced, but he gave a signal to the cameramen. One cameraman counted down from ten and the next thing I knew, I was smiling at Caesar widely, Grayson's arm around me, the sides of our knees touching. "Hello, Harper and Grayson, the mockingjays of District Twelve! The victors of the ninety-ninth annual Hunger Games! Hello, hello!" He joked and teased so wonderfully; I felt insanely jealous, but also relieved. His spokesman skills were fantastic. And that was just what I needed. He then turned to Grayson and put a hand on his knee. "Grayson, how are you feeling? Is your stomach any better?"
"Thank you, it's much better now, Caesar. It can hurt a little bit sometimes, but it's much better than being dead, right?" He said, probably earning a small laugh from the Capitol watching on their TV. Grave humour. Wonderful. "But after I watched the Games yesterday...I can't help but notice that I've now got a spectacular scar just like Harper." At the mention of my name, I snapped my head to look at him.
"What?" I asked, feeling slightly confused.
"Come on, Grayson. Show us. The audience watching at home." Caesar said. Grayson exchanged a look with me, before shrugging.
"Well okay then." Grayson then stood up and proceeded to lift up his shirt. I leaned round and on his stomach was a slash going across his stomach, looking just like the scar I had gained when I had fallen out of a tree...it even went in the same direction. But wasn't he just been stabbed, not slashed? The wound couldn't have been that big and long...I couldn't say that in front of Caesar, live on air. So instead I smiled slightly and put a hand on Grayson's bony hip.
"Goodness," I said, trying my best to stay calm, "We just had to have another symbol, didn't we?" I let out a small laugh, and Grayson obviously detected exactly how fake it was and looked down at me. Our eyes met and I tried my best to convey my feelings about the scar, to let him know what I thought. Grayson then nodded. Thank goodness for his intelligence and inference skills.
"Come, come, Victors. We have to move on!" Caesar said cheerfully, and Grayson apologised and let his shirt drop and cover the scar. He sat down next to me and put an arm around my shoulders, extending his legs out and crossing them over at the ankles. "So," Caesar started, "What I am sure the audience at home is dying to know..." The audience at your home isn't dying. The audience at ours is. "Why did you fake your own death, Grayson?"
From beside me, Grayson removed his arm and clasped his hands together in his lap, "I just wanted Harper to get out. I knew she wouldn't want to kill me, and I definitely didn't want to kill her...and I had just been stabbed, so I figured I was a lost cause anyway. So I just stayed there, awaiting my own death...so Harper could get out. And I am so incredibly lucky I was let out, too. Everything unfolded there, and I had no idea what I was saying and why. It just happened with the adrenaline and the pain. I can't remember a lot, but all I know is that I am here and so is she. And that we're okay. And that we can't thank the Capitol enough."
No. We can.
* * *
When the train started to move, Grayson and I were finally able to breathe easier. We were sat on a sofa in front of a TV, watching the interview.
"Thank you," I said, "You did the speaking and you did it perfectly."
"Did I really?" Grayson sighed, then ran a hand through his thick hair. "I had to make sure it didn't sound bad and that it didn't sound rebellious, almost as if I was apologising for what I said. I can remember what happened, every second of it."
We stayed in silence for the majority for the next majority of the train ride. As the Capitol and the arena slipped slowly away behind us, we became slowly more relaxed. We were going home. We were going to be able to hunt in peace, to hug our families, to see our District with food and supplies for a whole year. We would see the children with paper toys and full stomachs. We would see the sick being given proper medicine. We would see our parents look on us, glad we had survived. Glad we had pulled through. We had done it. We had escaped the Games for our District, for our families, for ourselves.
Eventually, at long last, the train pulled up at the station of District 12. We had both fallen asleep and stayed where we were during the night...and someone had draped a blanket over the two of us. I suspected Haymitch, because it was plain and not Capitol embellished. I slowly lifted my head off of Grayson's shoulder, stretching myself out. Once I could breathe again, I gently shook Grayson awake. His beautiful, pain filled eyes fluttered open and he looked at me in the eyes, but only for a fraction of a second. I carefully squeezed his hand under the blanket.
"We're here." I said. We both untangled ourselves from the blanket and get to our feet. I was glad we had changed into our regular clothes as soon as we had gotten back from the interview. As we walked towards the train doors, Grayson reaches up and pulls a thin yellow ribbon from my hair. I had put it up in a ponytail the night before, but had obviously missed this one ribbon, too exhausted to even see the bright yellow. Grayson smiled slightly and slipped the ribbon into his pocket.
"Ready?" He asked.
"Yeah."
As the train doors opened, we were met by cheering citizens and cameras. We both plastered on smiles, no matter how scarred and scared we felt, and waved. We were home, and fake smiles were going to have to do.
THE END.
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Safe and Sound || Hunger Games
Fanfiction{completed - UNDER EXTREME EDITING} FEATURED ON THE OFFICIAL @Fanfic HUNGER GAMES READING LIST. ❝Attachment always results in pain❞ Harper Anselin is a fifteen year old girl from District 12. She is quiet, keeps to herself, loves nature and is very...
