Jabberjay [The Hunger Games]

Chapter Four

     President Snow is holding an interrogation, and I am a suspect. Brutus' words replay over and over, causing my mind to race. Is it because I have already begun my killing spree? Deco was trying to murder me, I was only defending myself. Why does it matter if I kill someone from the districts inside or outside of the arena? Isn't it all the same? It's not like I killed someone from the Capitol.
     "I'm assuming it's about the girl, what was her name... Deco?" Brutus explains, holding his stern posture. It hits me that this is our first interaction that he seems genuinely concerned about my situation.
     I wonder how Brutus knows who she is, what if they were friends? Is Brutus mad at me? Will this affect how generous he is with my sponsors? Thick layers of paranoia begin to topple on top of each other. I try to defend myself with my answer, "Yes, she was trying to kill me though. She had a knife!"
     "Woah, Woah there, little girl. Calm down. I'm on your side here, I'm your mentor." Brutus lets out and embraces me with a hug, and for the first time since we've met, I don't mind him.
     His arms are the biggest arms that I've ever seen, with veins begging to be noticed throughout. The cluster of emotions that have fogged my mind begin to trickle out of my body. I ultimately decide to let my guard down and allow myself to cry in his arms. At first I try to fight it, but my mountain of problems have proven to be too tough to climb. I must be making audible sounds with my mouth and nose because Brutus catches on and begins to rub my back with his hand.
     We stand here, not saying anything as time passes. I could hide here for at least a couple of more minutes but Brutus pulls away, afterward placing his hands onto my shoulders and lowering himself down to my level. I can't help but imagine how weak I look to him, but he is shockingly decent at comforting. 
     "We are going to get you through this. You tell them you were defending yourself, and under any circumstances do not lie. They probably have everything recorded anyways, so stick to your truth." He says, using the tips of his thumbs to wipe away the straggling tears that had began to dry on my face. I nod, understanding his orders.
     Vivian and Malo can be heard exchanging laughter in the other room, which makes me jealous. I would love to have a good laugh, but that would be impossible with the monopoly of treacherous emotions storming about in my mind. This day was supposed to be one of the best days of my life, but it is easily the worst. I've never feared like this before in the comfort of my home back in District Two, but now fear is the only thing that I feel. The craziest part of it all is that I have to remain strong in appearance no matter what is going on inside. The last thing I need is to look like an easy target, which is exactly what I look like right now.
     An easy target. If I were in the arena and I saw myself like this, I would go for me first. It's a strategy that I was taught in the Academy of Warriors; go for the weakest first. I didn't understand it in the beginning because it seems dumb to go for the helpless when you could weaken a stronger opponent. However, the lesson stands that a confirmed solid kill is better than two weakened enemies. They then showed dozens of scenarios where leaving two tributes in the game can completely ruin your chances. The moral of the story is that if you see an easy kill, finish it off before you move on. Cockiness kills careers every year, and I don't want to add to that statistic.
     Brutus throws his arm around my neck and begins to walk into the other room, dragging me along. Malo is in the middle of telling Vivian about how badly Martial Marx wanted to get reaped this year.
     "He'd kill me for taking his spot if he could," Malo says and that is when I realize Deco's motives in trying to murder me.
     This was her last year that she was eligible to be reaped since she will be 19 at the next annual Reaping, too old to compete. It all makes sense now. Deco trained her whole life to go into the arena, prove her deadliness, then leave with the crown. I took that away from her and she wanted me dead for it. I can kind of understand considering I would feel like a complete loser if I trained every single day of my life for years to have it all flushed away. I'm glad I was picked though considering she couldn't even kill me, unarmed, when she was the one who started with the weapon. "Pathetic," escapes my mouth, lost in my realization.
     "Excuse me?" Vivian spits back, crossing her arms and giving me a death stare.
     It takes a moment to comprehend that she is talking to me, and even longer to realize what I had just said. I quickly start on damage control telling Vivian that it was not about her and that I was very sorry. I think she believes me. If she doesn't then she is a great actress because after accepting the apology, she pulls me and Malo in for a hug and then smiles at us. While her eyes shuffle between the two of us, she impersonates a Capitol accent, that is mixed with her own, "It's time to enter the Capitol!"
     Almost on queue, Katrina struts in with her sunray headpiece that has begun to lean heavily to the right side.
     "I can't wait for you to meet your prep teams, they are almost as marvelous as myself! Then you get to meet your stylists, and by golly, I'll say you have the cream of the crop!" Katrina announces in a grand attitude, and for the first time since the Reaping, I smile.
     "I am going to take Carmen, myself. Vivian, I will catch up with you momentarily," Brutus says, receiving a wink back from her, assuring me that she knows what is going on.
     Brutus escorts me out the side of the train, allowing me to use his hand to balance myself when I hop off the two-foot jump and onto the ground. Almost instantly there are three Peacekeepers that surround me, one on each of my sides and the other behind me. They hold their guns to their chest in uniform as they march alongside Brutus and I, keeping up just fine. I am still filled with anxiety but I take a moment to admire the breathtaking view of the Capitol, every head turn ending in small gasps at the beauty.
     The walk feels like a year-long hike through the mountain tops of District Two but in actuality, we have been on foot for no longer than 10 minutes. The sight of the President's mansion towers over us in a glorified, yet taunting way. I keep telling myself to remain unwavering in my body language, but it's hard for me to keep my hands still. Brutus reminds me to not lie and I hush him off, hating when people repeat themselves. I am having my picture taken by what I am assuming is a mob of Capitol paparazzi, and I begin to wonder how much money these pictures will sell for.
     Finally, I am in front of the gargantuan double doors that are centered in front of the mansion. The Peacekeepers tap in a code on an electrotonically operated device that hangs on the wall next to the door. "Access granted," speaks a robotic, yet welcoming tone. The double doors pull apart from each other, revealing a grand staircase that is blindingly white like the purest flakes of snow. The Peacekeeper behind me nudges me with the tip of his gun, signaling me to continue moving forward. Brutus begins to follow and that's when the Peacekeeper to my right stops him, informing him that he will not be allowed to enter.
     "I'm her mentor, I have to stick by her at all times while she is in the Capitol. That's the kind of the whole point of the whole mentor thing," Brutus says, turning slightly to face the Peacekeeper that stopped him.
     "President's order. She must come alone." The Peacekeeper responds, with no emotion in their voice to read off of.
     After Brutus tries to argue his way around this, he ultimately fails and is directed to make his way back to the train. Once he heads out, the Peacekeepers continue to nudge me in different directions. Down long hallways, lefts, rights, elevator trips, and eventually we end up at what I am assuming is the bottom floor. There is a certain coldness in the air that keeps me alert, causing goosebumps to visit my arms and legs. I hate to admit it, but I wish Brutus was still beside me. He made me feel protected even though we stood no chance against three armed Peacekeepers. Plus, no way they would hurt one of the Capitol's favorites. Brutus is a legend to many. I can only imagine the outrage that would spark.
     I remain outside a door that I have been instructed to wait beside. A few minutes pass and the Peacekeeper to my left who is shorter in stature compared to the others', opens the door and then I see him. President Snow sits at a table that is round in shape, and bare in design. The room is small from what I can see and it's dark. The only light source is dim and dangles above the center of the table, giving the room a haunting feeling. I get the same gun bump against my back, and that's when I walk in before hearing the doors latch behind me.
     "Hello there, Carmen. It's very nice to meet you, please have a seat." The President says, with a coldness in his tone that matches the temperature.
     As I make my way to one of the two remaining empty chairs, I examine President Snow and am slightly taken back. He looks much shorter in person, and also a few years older. I begin to wonder if on TV his image is modified to keep up with the glam status of the Capitol. He wears a royal blue and red suit that compliments the greenery that grows in his eyes. One hand on the table, he twiddles his thumbs making a tapping sound every few seconds.
     I take a seat and maintain eye contact with him as I lower myself down into the chair. I haven't spoken a word, and decide I need to at least introduce myself.
     "Hello Mr. President, it is an honor. I am so excited to put on a good show for you this year." I say, hoping my voice sounds as confident as possible.
     "Well, well... this year we do have a great cast, you being someone who indeed caught my eye." He says, in a monotone response. Did I actually catch his eye? I thought for sure Malo stole the show after his name was called. He was flexing his muscles, shouting back at the crowd, all while I sat back in his shadow.
     "But not for the best of reasons." He adds, shooting bullets through my train of thought as my brain begins to scatter.
     I have to say something, this is not good. Could he kill me right now if he wanted to? He has the power to do it, but what would happen to the Games? In previous years there have been no replacements for tributes who die before the games, but it's always problematic for the production. Would my murder be written off as natural causes? A suicide? I have no idea, but I have to say something before I am drilled.
     "I didn't want to hurt her. She was my friend." I plead, already going against Brutus' orders. She was not my friend, but it's something they can't prove wrong and I hope me saying it will enlist sympathy.
     "Oh, no dear. I'm not talking about the incident at the Justice Building. If anything, that was quite impressive." Snow says, with a slight grin.
     I'm not here because of killing Deco? I try to remember every bad thing I've ever done since I was young. I stole an arrow from the Fray once when I first started going there, but I doubt that is relevant at this moment. I consider the possibility that I am being framed for a crime against the Capitol that I had no part in. The President is still waiting for a reply as his words linger in the bitter air, intensifying as each second passes. He decides to break the silence when he calls out an order, "Bring them in."
     On-demand the Peacekeepers open the door from behind me, as two other Peacekeepers that have been waiting outside, push two bodies into the room. They are both alive, and the first one that I notice is a Peacekeeper. His uniform is not pearly white like the others, instead dirt coats every part of it as if they had been wrestling in mud. The other body is one that is equally soiled, causing her once platinum streaks to blend into the darkness of her roots. My mother.
     I audibly gasp and let out a quivering cry as I reach for her, coming out of my seat. She looks as if she had been beaten or tortured, and the vitality of that sets in as I hug her limp body. She begins to cry, but for a moment I forget that I am in the Capitol. I am taken back to District Two when things were always happy and I never had to worry. The Capitol's beauty has proven to be a charade.
     "Bring them," says the voice of the President, pulling me back into reality.
     The Peacekeepers that pushed them into the room are the ones to grab my mother and the rejected Peacekeeper. I am terrified to let go but I feel like it would only make things worse if I rebelled against the President's orders. They drag them from under their arms, causing their legs to mop the floor as they are pulled away. Once the Peacekeepers arrive at each side of President Snow, they lift them both up and force them to stand. My mother is on the right side, and I can see her lip quivering.
     The once frigid air feels room temperature now as a result of my body heating up in nervousness. I am trying to make sense of everything, but can't seem to string together any logical explanation for all of this. My mother is alive which is a huge relief but why is she here? I just got to the Capitol not that long ago, so she must have been on the same train that I was on and I had no idea. Also, why is there a Peacekeeper with her?
     "Now, Mrs. Delano... do you want to speak or should I?" Snow says, turning to my mother and smirking with power.
     My eyes pace back and forth between them, not knowing what to expect. My mother remains silent, which queues President Snow to continue.
     "Alrighty then, I guess I'll fill in your daughter," he says, looking away from her and then directly at me.
     "Your mother didn't want you to come out here, did she, Carmen?" He asks as I look over to my mother, seeking her guidance.
     "Eyes on me, answer the question." Snow says quickly, and I shift my focus back to him.
     I do not know the correct answer. Anything that I say could be twisted and used against her. But still, I find the courage to clear my throat and begin to speak, "We watch every year... She just doesn't want me to get hurt."
     He lets out a sinister giggle and then answers me, "What a good mother she must be, not wanting you to get hurt, that is. I have no problem with that! In fact, I applaud her eagerness to protect you. However... I do have a problem when it comes to meddling with Capitol mandated events."
     The chills traveling through my body have not stopped ever since I've been down here. What even is a 'Capitol mandated event?' I try to brainstorm quickly and assume he is talking about the Reaping because nothing else comes to mind. But that makes no sense because how would that involve my mother?
     "Earlier today a Peacekeeper was paid off to remove a slip of paper from the volunteers' Reaping bowl," President Snow announces, slipping his fingers into his jacket. He pulls out a small pistol that glimmers under the light, laying it down on the table.
     It feels like he had pointed the gun directly at me and sent a bullet into my chest. His words echo in my mind as I slowly turn my head to look over at my mother. She looks down at the floor, avoiding responsibility. She couldn't have...
     "The name on that slip was none other than Carmen Delano," he adds, as my mother lets out a cry of guilt.
     "Mom... you didn't..." I say in disbelief with an audible crack in my voice.
     "Baby, I'm sorry!" She shrieks, tears streaming down her face.
     My mother's meltdown earlier today pushed her to a criminal line that she crossed. The lump in my throat feels like a boulder at this point, and everything feels like it's happening in slow motion. President Snow says something else but my mind is too muddled to process it. The look of fear on my mothers' face sends me to a nomadic state of mind. This all could have been avoided if she just understood that I was bred for this. All of my life I was trained to kill and she only recently found this problematic.
     President Snow begins again, "It gets better... Upon further investigation, Sergeant Malone admitted to committing this crime last year for her as well."
     "Now don't I look like the fool... So here's what's going to happen," Snow says, looking over to the Peacekeeper on his left.
     "Sergeant Malone, you are not worthy of that helmet. Take it off at once," he says, turning his head and focus back to me.
     Sergeant Malone reaches for his helmet and begins to lift it off of his head, revealing his identity. He is an older man, I would say about 50 years old or somewhere in that range. His hair is cloudy grey that fades into white at the tips. The expression displayed on his face is one of conviction and shame. I almost don't notice when President Snow grabs the gun, aims it, and pulls the trigger, sending a bullet into his head.
     The deafening sound of gunfire leaves my ears ringing. My mothers' scream that follows Sergeant Malone's body collapsing to the ground causes the two Peacekeepers on duty to grab her. They hold her by her arms and stand firm, not budging at all as she tries to claw her way out of their grip. The blood is visible on the floor causing rivers of red to form currents. I make eye contact with President Snow as he snickers in satisfaction, "Calm down, Calm down."
     The horrific thought that my mothers' fate will be the same as Sergeant Malone's haunts me. The room has begun to spin and I can't concentrate on anything. My mothers' cries are rampant and do not seem to soften until President Snow lays the gun back on the table.
     "Malone was held to a higher standard as he was Capitol blood. With that being said, I am not going to kill you, so please quiet down over there..." He says with a menacing smirk, causing my mother to ease herself into silent weeps.
     I hear the door from behind me open and I instantly become defensive, slinging myself around. The gunshot has left me on edge and I feel like I need to be prepared for anything. The man that enters the room has blonde hair with streaks of artificial red throughout it, causing the illusion that his hair is burning. I notice the Panem logo stitched into his fiery red tuxedo that tells me that he is a Capitol official. It took me a second to remember that dressing as outlandish as possible is the norm around here.
     "I hate to intrude sir, but the Tribute Parade is in about two hours and she hasn't even been to the Remake Center. Her prep team is starting to panic, fearing they will not have enough time to pull off the makeover," says the man.
     "Very well then. Carmen, you are excused," President Snow demands.
     I can't leave this room until I know my mother is safe. I try to organize my thoughts enough to come up with a solution to the problem at hand, but I can't. My mother cries out my name, beginning to kick and scream in the grasp of the Peacekeepers.
     "Mom!" I say, jolting up and darting over to her as fast as I can.
     I can hear the cluster of boots storm in behind me, but I don't stop. The room is small so it doesn't take me long to reach my mother. However, the Peacekeepers holding onto her turn their bodies so that they block my pathway to her. I throw my hands over their shoulders and feel her hands trying to find mine. Our hands are locked momentarily until the mob of Peacekeepers that had entered the room after me, pull me away. My mother and I exchange screams for each other until the feeling of several hands around me lift me off my feet and I am carried out.
     I am doing whatever I can to make the task of removing myself as difficult as possible. Punching and clawing at the Peacekeepers that are the physical barrier between me and my mother is my natural instinct. I have a gut feeling that this is my only chance at saving her. I don't even know what I would do, but I'd take the bullet for her any day. My screams continue to cry out for her until the gut-wrenching realization hits that I am too far away from her to hear me anymore.