The Hunger Games: Book Four - How it Might Have Been ... Gale.

Page Forty-One

Oenothera

The hovercraft rushes towards the Arena, which I now know to be District 13. Dad and I sit in a corner, discussing 'tactics', but really, we can't talk about anything. These moments are meant to be confidential, but I know we're being listened to. 

The other Tributes surround us, still sitting, shivering on their benches. They all have mentors, too, but it looks to me as if their mentors are simply people who were pulled off the streets around the time of the Reaping, chosen randomly. Some are scared, shivering too, and some are so young I gather that they must have been very, very young during the Rebellion. They are only there to pose as mentors - they can't offer any real advice. 

Not that advice matters. We're all going to die, anyway. Or so Dad has told me. He has filled me in on all the information he recalls from the day he had become posessed. Thankfully, he is his old self now, though I find it hard to fully trust him. I don't think I can trust anyone anymore.

"I know it seems hopeless, Oeno," Dad says, holding my hand gently. I feel numb, but not from fear. My death is imminent, I know that. But I want to make my death mean something, make my life worth something. I just don't know how. "President Coin has decided on District 13 as the Arena. Do you remember anything about District 13 from your history book?" Dad is so serious about this all, not upset in any way that he's about to lose his only daughter. Of course I remember everything about District 13, but I nod, slowly, feigning hesitance. I can't fully trust him. It's sad, because he's my father, but he's also the reason I am in the Capitol's hands.

"I feel like I've aged a hundred years over the past few days," I sigh, pretending, but not too much, that I'm upset about my doom. I need him and the Capitol to think I'm weak, to think I won't fight back. won't try to ruin their plan of taking over Panem again, like their predecessors. My mind is still reeling at the information about President Coin's son. Seemingly he had murdered his sister shortly after their mother's death, and had gone on to imitate President Snow is all his ways. The thought makes me shudder, and I think about Kuwai.

"Oh, Oeno," Dad says quietly, hugging me gently. His hug is rigid, though. He pulls back, and just as I am about to give up hope in my father forever, I see a something behind his eyes. He's acting. Yes, he's acting! I've seen this light before on recordings on the ArchivePlayer on the numerous occasions he fooled the Capitol. He's pretending he's faithful to them, when really, he's been pretending all along. And he's trying to communicate to me silently to act along to. Then he turns away, looking at the ground. "Oeno... do you... do you have any idea where your mother and Uncle Gale could be?" It's a question he doesn't want to know the answer to, but the Capitol does. Honestly, I don't know.

Then it hits me.

They've always had a plan, Mom and Dad, a secret plan they thought Ku and I never knew about. But we'd heard them discussing it, late at night, when Dad would lose control a little and thrash the furniture about in rage. "We'll go back," Mom used to whisper to him, causing Ku and I to lean forward on the staircase, eavesdropping. "We'll escape, Peeta. Not to that cabin in the woods, but to District 13. We were safe there - briefly. We can go back, if they ever return."

Now I know. Now I understand. "They" are the Capitol. "They" are the evil ones, the ones who have always owned my father's mind, not just now. My eyes have widened a little, and the quick glance Dad gives me shows me enough to know I've almost given it away. He understands I know that Mom and Gale and Ku are at District 13, but I cannot say. I cannot tell the prying Capitol. "No," I exhale, shuddering. "No, I don't."

Dad lets go of his breath, relief flooding him. Then, an alarm rings. We were almost there, flying towards the place where my family have taken secret refuge. I am suddenly overcome by pain and worry and fear. Then, Dad whispers quietly: "Here, take this." He holds out his hand, twisting off his wedding ring. I have never seen him not wear it, not once. "Each Tribute gets at token of some sort. Please, take this as yours." He puts it in my palm, thin and gold. "Good luck, Oenothera," Dad kisses my forehead, slowly, and I can feel his pain. I will do him proud. I will do all my family proud.

The mentors are escorted away silently and my heart beats slowly, reallity sinking in. The New Hunger Games are about to begin, and I am alone.

Then, I spot the tiny inscription on the inside of the wedding ring I hold in my hand. Only Katniss and Peeta know the words on this ring. Gingerly, I hold the ring closer to my eyes so I can read the tiny, single word. I don't know what it means exactly, but I can feel it's importance and it's significance to my parents flowing from it. It gives me strength. I can do this. I can save Panem. All thanks to this single word:

"Real."