And that was the thing about her, she kept on surviving. With bullet holes in her lungs and knife marks etched in her back. She never let anything get in her way, resilient. A fighter, not by choice. But a warrior at heart.
| the hunger games |
| pr...
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The following weeks are the same. I went to the Captiol and back twice a week. I hated it. Back in District Nine, people would talk about me. They think I wouldn't hear but I did. They would say that I enjoyed the Capitol and the people that's why I kept going back.
I wanted to tell them that wasn't the truth, I wanted to tell them that I despised the Captiol and everyone in it but I couldn't. I have very strict orders that I have to follow or someone I love will end up dead. I can't talk to no one about what goes on in the Captol. My mother has asked me why I visit so much and it pains me that I can't tell her the reason.
I want to lean on her for support. I want to tell her so she can make it all go away like she did when I was a kid. But she can't. This is something that can't just go away, like childish fears.
Right now, I sit on the train staring out of the window as it speeds past the building of District Nine towards the Capitol. This is my second time coming back, and I am just as nervous as before. I don't know what I'm doing, but I know I don't want to be here.
There's nothing I can do about it though, so I lean my arm up against the window sill and rest my hand on my arm. I wish I was still back home in the days before the Games. How life was so much simpler then. I would work in the field with my mother and help prepare dinner. I would go to school and live life as best as I could. But now that life has been stolen from me.
I am no longer that innocent kid that ran around in the grain fields harvesting, I am a murder. I've killed poeple, I've watched good people die. I still have nightmares about my time in the arena, I think I always will. Those memories are going to stay with me forever.
I wonder what Monty or Calyptus would say if they saw me now. I still wish it had been them that won instead of me and then I wouldn't be forced to this life. But then a thought hits me. Would they be forced to do this like I am?
I didn't have any friends, they were my only friends. My classmates back at school don't really talk to me, but I also never see them much anymore. I don't go to school, Stella thought it would interfere with work. If it had been up to me, I would have stayed in school, at least then they wouldn't call me out to come to the Capitol.
When the train stop outside the Training Center, memories flash back into my mind of when I first arrived in the Capitol with Monty by my side. Unpleasant memories follow with him dying while I try desperately to get back to him.
I have to close my eyes and shake my head to rid the thoughts from my mind. I don't want to focus on that right now, or ever. Those memories are too painful to relive. They are just a reminder that I failed him and his father. His father had asked me right after we got reaped if I would look out for him, and I tried but in the end I failed.
Stepping out of the train I spot Stella's blonde hair and dangily blue hooped earrings waiting for me. "Hello, Ember. It's been so long." She greets me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders.
I want to tell her that I was here as few days ago, but I keep my mouth shut. That was one of the first things my mentor, Willow had told me about the Captiol. Never object to anything they say.
She leads me into the Training Center and down a hall that I've never been to. "This is where you will be going from now on." She informs me as if I care.
I simply nod my head but my eyes trail over to my surroundings. I wonder if I made a run for it now, how far would I get before I am caught.
She leads me into the large hallway with doors on either side. I see a boy sitting in the floor of the hallway like he is waiting on something. I feel my heart start racing as Stella stops us in front of a door on the left. "Oh, hey Finnick!" she greets the boy, who looks up at us with worried eyes.
I stare at him and wonder if he suffers the same fate as I do. He doesn't say anything, just stares at me while his fingers fiddle around with a piece of string that he held in his hands. I watch as he tries knots over and over on the string. "Oh, Ember, this is Finnick Odair." Stella says, turning to look at me and then gestures over to the boy. "He won the 65th Game." She then turns to Finnick, "Finnick, dear, this is Ember Graves, the winner of the 67th Games."
He looks up at me and I see a look of sympathy cross over his face and then he gives me a small wave before going back to his string. "Well, this is exciting, two victors in a room right next to each other." Stella talks to herself. "Maybe we can have it arranged for you two to be together."
...
A few hours later I walk out of the room and find that Stella is not there to bring me back to my room on the ninth floor like she usually is. I take a seat down on the floor and run my fingers over the smooth surface of the marble flooring.
The sound of a door opening causing my heart to race inside of my chest as my head snaps up to see who it was. I see the boy from earlier, Finnick, step out of the room and then I bring my head back down and hold my helds towards my chest as I wait on Stella
I could hear his footsteps coming closer to me and I hear him slid down the wall next to me. "Hey." he greets shyly.
I lift my head up to look at him and see that he is about my age, maybe a year older. "Hey," I say back.
I see him glance around as if he is looking for cameras before turning back to me, "So you're like me then, huh?"
I didn't follow what he was saying at first but then I realised he was asking if I was a desirable like he is. "Yeah," I say and lower my voice. "I don't like it." I whisper so low I'm not even sure if he heard it.
He scoots closer to me so that we can talk softer about things that the Capitol doesn't want us to. "It gets lonely." he admits, looking up at me. "No being able to talk to anyone."
I find myself nodding my head in agreement despite the fact that I have only been doing this for a few weeks and he has been for a year if not longer. "Yeah, maybe we could talk to each other. You know, instead of bottling it all up inside, we could vent to each other." I say but then remember that I just met him, "I'm sorry, we just me. I'm not good with friends..." I say instantly thinking about my friend in the arena.
He seems to know what I mean as he looks over at me, "Neither am I, but we can be bad at making friends together."
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Thank you guys for reading this and I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did then don't forget to vote and comment.
So not the greatest chapter, I really wish it was better, but I couldn't find inspiration to make it better.
So there are only two more chapter left of this book. And I'm kind of glad to be finished it cause I'm excited to start publishing catching fire.
