Living Lies ✜ Hunger Games x Reader

Tired Of Waiting

It comes rushing back in a moment. You remember, way back in the Training Center during the Hunger Games when you first met the Careers. That seems like so long, so many life times ago. Technically, it is—with all of the lives of fellow tributes that have passed on before you.

Back then, you thought, "Screw Haymitch. I stand out all on my own without even trying. Being known as a hunter in 12—since it's illegal—has never merited any chameleon qualities."

And now, you basically think, "Screw Haymitch. I still stand out all on my own without even trying, even if he doesn't want me to. Being known as the Girl on Fire—and a martyr— doesn't exactly merit any chameleon qualities."

So basically, everything has pretty much changed, but nothing really has at the same time.

After the majority of the plan followed smoothly getting into the stairwell and onto the lower level of the District 13 compound, the real challenge was convincing a random guard without using your voice that, yes, I'm an avox who wants to go home to District 12.

Yes, I got permission from my superior.

No, you may not see my tongue.

But the questioning and short interrogation was sub-par and you managed to finally be led into a hangar bay to await a transport. District 13 had a way of discreetly wedging avoxes back into their homes securely (unlike their actual security) by, as explained by the guard, sending the avoxes to a reliable source in the Capitol and having them transported by train to the districts at the same time as the Reaping will occur.

Which just happens to be perfect timing for you.

The biggest struggle, however, is going to be disguising yourself. Sure, the tight bun and the silence act fooled a few lack luster District 13 guards, but what about the people, fellow avoxes, the Capitol crew aboard the train? Effie will be there, certainly. She will recognize you. As will your former prep team.

Unfortunately, you still don't have a solid plan for that portion of the escapade. To anyone else, the whole idea may seem like suicide (actually, it probably is) and quite frankly, you're starting to believe the same. But there really isn't another option when you're so determined (and desperate) to get back home to District 12. Your entire plan rests solely on the hope that nobody else will recognize you.

At least that's what you were hoping for. However, as you have previously stated, both in months ago and now, you've never really been lucky enough to blend in.

And this fact seems to be becoming strikingly evident as you gain odd looks from the other avoxes aboard the jet to take to the Capitol. Most are dressed the same way as you are, with plain clothes, tightly pulled back hair, but the vast majority have elegantly painted faces, likely for the whole pomp and circumstance ahead.

One, however, catches your eye in particular. The red hair sets off a memory in your mind, and while part of you fights to push it down, ignore it, the opposition wins. The scene starts playing in your head like television show, as crystal clear and sharp as when it happened.

You sighed in frustration and threw your pillow across the room. Sitting cross legged on your bed, you felt a wave of tears coming on. You had been planning your latest strategy, but everything depends on...absolutely nothing. There were no guarantees of survival in the games, and your plan was thinly based. At that moment, you just felt sick of everything that has to do with the capitol.

Strangely, throwing the pillow seemed to exhilarate you, a release of angry energy. So you picked up another pillow and tossed it, getting an odd satisfaction in seeing it hit a lamp and causing it to fall. The sound of shattering glass was soothing to your soul. And having felt completely and utterly discouraged, you let out a scream and lied back on your bed, muttering darkly about the Capitol and their screwy methods of entertainment.