Pretty As a Primrose (A Hunger Games Fanfiction)

Chapter 20

It turns out that Seneca Crane is dead. Now I have to ask myself, is this what the cost is? I took his warning lightly, not worried about much beyond my own safety until we got on the train and I realized there were many more people I cared about. I'd been so caught up in keeping myself alive, I forgot that President Snow could kill my mother and Katniss and Rory's family very easily.

Peeta and I were grateful -well, at least I was truly grateful and he was an excellent actor- and we made sure to express our gratitude to the Capitol for sparing us both as Haymitch suggested. After I told him what happened, he knew he had to help us save everything we care about. Snow is dangerous, he whispered under the blanket of my hair into my ear. You have to watch everything you say, every second from now on. Peeta and I were both crowned victors and then the final interview with Caesar slid by, my words carefully chosen. My smiles innocent and very grateful, an easy task when you're twelve.

"Do you think they're surprised?" Peeta asks. I was sitting across from him, staring out the window of the train. I look over at him, seeing the difference from the bakery boy to the boy in the arena to now.

"I think they're excited," I say, knowing exactly what he's referring to. "They haven't had a victor in so long, now they have two. They're probably ecstatic." Carefully chosen words. I smile but he just stares at me conspicuously, I could always count on Peeta to see right through me. As we got closer to district 12, the more I worried I wouldn't see my family and friends there because of what I did in the arena. I just wanted to get home and see Katniss, we would go deep into the woods and she would listen to everything Snow told me and she would understand because that's what Katniss does. That's what we do. Make sense of each other's messes.

Peeta and I glanced nervously at each other as we approached district 12, Effie walked in quick circles around us as she assessed our outfits and ordered us to smile big and wave and just be our delightful selves in her funny accent. While she's adjusting the hem of my skirt to perfection, I really look at her. The big pink cotton candy fluff of hair tamed into curls piling on her head, her face powdered white and cheeks powdered red. Her lips were drawn in lavender and her eyes were the most exaggerated -eyelashes falsely curling up to touch her forehead and eyelids covered in layers of pink and lavender colors. Her eye color was a natural blue-grey, they were pretty and I'm sure the rest of her would radiate natural beauty if she lived anywhere but the Capitol. Even now, donning the Capitol attire she was still pretty but in an odd way, her mind concentrating on fixing my skirt with her pink eyebrows knitted. I kind of felt sad that all of district 12 hated her because she's a mostly decent human being as far as Capitol people go, she's just been raised to enjoy the Games and so she does. Then it occurs to me why these Capitol people don't see why the Games are wrong. They are so unaffected by the sight of children dying because they are so distracted by everything else in their society. They can't even feel upset when kids die because their brains are distracted by the clothes and the hair and the makeup and glamour of the Capitol. Effie can't look at me as a murderer because she probably looks at me and sees me as a blank canvas for making over.

"Effie," I say, laughing lightly. "It's looks great, thank you."

She smiles. "Okay, children. Smile, wave, the usual. In three..two..one!" The doors slide open before us and we're home. Home. The word sounds so foreign in my mind that I have to really wonder if I'm actually here or not. But the smells and the sights and the sounds are still here after I pinch myself hard. I don't even have to plaster a smile on my face, I catch sight of Katniss and my mother and Rory and everyone else and I smile so wide my cheeks hurt. They're chanting our names, even Katniss is smiling and chanting our names. I'm home and my family is here, untouched by President Snow. I don't even want to stop smiling as I push through the crowd, dusty hands reaching towards me in congragulations, and I find myself in encompassed in Katniss' and my mother's arms.