The Hunger Games: Staying True. (Completed)

A/N

Song for this chapter is Paramore Let The Flames Begin, it's an amazing song, and loads of people have been saying that it should be in Catching Fire or Mockingjay, it's really good though :)

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“No need to shove” I growl at the Peacekeeper that leads me into a small room, for me to have a few minutes with my family. He gives me a slightly sympathetic glance but slams the door nonetheless.

I wait near the window, looking out at the thriving Capitol, my home. The home I’ve come to resent. A commotion outside the door distracts me from watching a few trains arrive out of the wilderness and enter the city, I turn quickly to see Silver tumble into the room.

“Emerald” Silver cries, rushing over to me and throwing her arms around my neck, hugging her body to mine desperately.

“What the hell was that out there, Silver?” I demand, pulling away from her but keeping my hands on her waist, needing the warmth of her body right now.

“I’m sorry!” she wails, tears streaking down her face “I lost it, Emerald, I didn’t mean to, I just got so mad at your brothers! They should be in here, Emerald, not you, not you!” she shrieks, I shush her, enfolding her in my arms again, she gasps into my black hair, twiddling a curly lock in her fingers as she sobs into my shoulder.

“You can win this, Emerald” she gasps, looking up at me “You can do this, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known, you’ll get people to love you, you will, you have to!” Silver gasps out, tears blocking her throat as she struggles to breathe, I gently run my hands over her cheeks, trying to stem the flow of the water works coming from her eyes, but my touch seems to make her cry even harder.

“I’ll try, Silver” I tell her soothingly.

"Your fight starts now, Emerald" she tells me, gripping my hands painfully "You try your hardest, you do everything in your power to get back to me, you hear?" she says viciously, then her face becomes slightly hopeless, she looks into my eyes pleadingly "For me, Emerald, will you do it for me?” she whispers, pressing her forehead to mine, I close my eyes, blowing out a breath, tears leak through my lashes, slipping silently down my cheeks.

“I promise, for you” I whisper in reply.

A Peacekeeper arrives to take Silver away, she struggles for a second, kissing me on the forehead.

“I love you, Emerald!” she shouts as they struggle with her. Her hand clings to mine for a split second, and then we’re yanked apart.

“I promise!” I manage to choke out “I promise Silver!” I call after her, making sure she hears it. Then she’s gone.

I look down into the hand she had been holding until the last possible second, there’s something there that wasn’t before.

It’s a locket, the one that Silver has worn everyday since I can remember, there's two pictures in there, of her and I. One where we’re crammed together as children at around four years old, she's dressed in a black dress, me in a white, it was so we were opposites, her with her white hair, mine with my black. The other is one of us about two years ago, our faces pressed close together, again, she’s in black and I’m in white, we did it as a mockery of the other picture.

I feel sad that she’s given it to me, knowing she’ll probably never get it back. 

I wipe tears from my cheeks, hating myself for crying.

The door slowly creaks open again, and my mother steps inside hesitantly, her eyelashes are tinted purple, and the lipstick she has on is also, so is the floor length dress she hoists up as she slowly wraps her skinny arms around my shoulders, even for her the gesture is stiff and affectionless, and I don't cling to her like I had to Silver, I have to force myself just to twist my arms around her waist.

“You didn’t have to do that, Emerald” she doesn’t cry or scream like Silver, and I don’t show any sign of remorse. There is no love in our relationship, we both accepted that long ago.

“My brothers weren’t going to” I cant help the snap that forms my words, maybe it’s the emotionless edge to her voice that provokes me, maybe it’s just the way she refuses to cry, or maybe it’s because she says it like an accusation, like I’m an immature child. But I know I’m angry at her, how come I got all the courage in the family? Maybe because I was close to my father more than her, and she twisted her remaining four children into cowards.