Mockingjay: Prim [Completed]

Chapter 2: Ceasefire (Rory)

"Do you understand what you have done, child?!"

I hang my head low as Snow reprimands me. Snow. I hate him with all my heart. He tried, and succeeded, in hurting Prim.

"Do you understand?!" Snow barks in my face again. I stubbornly stand there, refusing to give him the answer he wants. I won't give him even the smallest satisfaction. Snow sighs and pulls up the video again. I've practically memorized what it says. I've heard it ten two many times, and besides, I'm the main character.

"As I watched Prim in the games last year, my heart broke. She could've died in there! I felt hatred for the Capitol. For sending such a young innocent girl into the games- how could they?! She was only 12, and they didn't care about her at all, she was just treated like a pawn in their games. How could I sit back and watch it happen all over again?"
"How about...Gale, who is he to you?"

"Gale is my brother. But he no longer lives with us, the Capitol has dragged him here to serve as my servant! How much crueler can a human being get? This past week, I had to watch my mute brother serve me food, make my bed, clean my room- and I couldn't do anything about it. He's only 19, and life at home wouldn't have been any better for him. Working in the mines, he would've rarely spent any time at home. And all that coal mining we do in the district, how much coal do the district 12 villagers get to use? Close to none! We're left to freeze in the cold.The one day my brother could rest, would be another work day. He would had to provide for our family of 5, because the Capitol can't spare us even 10g of food each day. And here they purposely barf it up while when we're left to starve. Panem! Do you not realize what your country is doing to you- your Capitol that you've so much respected is not what you think it is. Every single year, they tear 24 children away from their parents and throw them into a cruel game that kills 23 innocent children annually. Panem! How crueler could this get? When these victors were guaranteed to be out of these games, they're just thrown right back into the dreaded arena. Our Capitol is corrupt! Underneath its layers of sparkle, shine, and ostentatiousness, is filth!"

The screen stops and Snow's eyes trail to me once again. He doesn't scare me, not anymore. He looks into my eyes and at first I think it's anger I see in his eyes, then I realize it's disappointment. He stays like that for a moment, then opens his mouth and issues me an ultimatum.

"You will have one shot to redeem yourself, tonight, at an interview with Caesar Flickerman."

I hide in an air duct. It happens. After a few weeks in the Capitol, you start searching for places to hide and well...the air duct has been good to me. I sit still for a while and words start drifting into my head. Words the Capitol servants have been feeding me with.

My name is Rory Hawthorne. I volunteered myself into the games. My brother is mute because of me. My crush has been taken away because of me. My home has been obliterated because of me. Because of me, people are hurt. I am a destructive being.

I know it isn't true. They're just brainwashing me. But sometimes I wonder if what they're saying is really true. I know Gale and Prim's fates are not my fault, at least I hope so. But I am not sure if it was me that caused the destruction of my home. I still feel bad about it. I do understand what I've done. And I'm terribly afraid I still need to pay the price for it.

"It's not your fault, that's just what they want you to believe," I chide. Then I rise from my seat and head over to my 'cell', which is really just a room they've been keeping me in during the past few days. When I get there, I find a bunch of make up artists and stylists ready to whisk me away to the prep room. With a sigh, I follow.

I hate the work the stylists have done on me. It makes me look fake, like a product of the Capitol. I hate it so much that I wash it off once they leave. I don't want to hurt their feelings but I've worn the fake look long enough. The games were a bit too much for me. After washing off the hard work of the artists, I look at myself in the mirror and smile satisfyingly. This is the real me.