Epiphany | Johanna Mason

Chapter Twenty-Three

It didn't take long to come back, though. A man appeared, ushering her further along, because apparently, she needed to be ready while district two was still being interviewed. She was guided to her spot beside Blight. They still hadn't talked much apart from their agreement; stick together if possible and get out. She didn't like him, in fact strongly disliked him, but that didn't mean she wanted him to die in there.

Even so, as soon as the man left to figure another problem out, Johanna left again. besides Blight was the last place she wanted to stand, and instead strolled along the other tributes. Everyone looked stupid, as if the stylists were trying to outdo each other in all the wrong ways. Until something caught her eye.

In the strange orange lighting, it looked less white than Johanna knew it was. "A wedding dress, really?" This girl they were rebelling for? Johanna didn't know if she believed the star-crossed lovers thing they had going on, she didn't care, but a wedding dress just seemed low. Pathetic.

Katniss Everdeen looked over her shoulder as Johanna stopped her stroll. "Snow made me wear it,"

Of course he did. The girl from twelve might not be something Johanna would willingly rebel for, it was a peculiar cruelty Johanna hated the man a little more for. She stepped closer, Katniss' eyes not leaving her. As if Johanna might jump her and strangle her to death right there.

She might, but opted for fixing her necklace instead. "Make him pay for it." She said, sharing a grin with her before leaving again. Six had just entered the stage, she supposed it was time to get back again.

Blight gave her a look when she took her place again, but neither spoke, instead listening to the almost coherent attempt they made at the plan.

At last, she was called to the stage. "Welcome, Johanna," Ceasar said, offering her a hand she slapped away. he looked even more ridiculous with his purple hair than he had the year before. "We've seen a lot of tears tonight," he said seriously once they'd sat down. "But I see no tears in Johanna's eyes." Anger bubbled in her stomach again, lighting her body on fire so easily it was hard not to interrupt him. She laughed as the man continued. "Johanna, you are angry. Tell me why."

Tell him why? What the fuck, wasn't it obvious? Hadn't all the people before her said exactly why she has every reason to be angry? "Well, yes, I'm angry," she said, looking right at him for the first time. "You know, I'm getting totally screwed over here," she'd wanted to keep acting cool, to not let them see how angry she truly was. "The deal was that if I win the Hunger Games I get to live the rest of my life in peace." As she thought about staying calm-ish, it was already being forgotten.

"But now," she looked past Ceasar into the camera, speaking to everyone that would ever see the stupid interview. "You want to kill me again. Well, you know what, fuck that! And fuck everyone who had anything to do with it!"

She yelled before storming off the stage, relishing the surprised sounds from all around her like someone else would applause. She didn't know where she was going, didn't even know if she cared. Well, she certainly didn't care.

"What are you doing?" someone shrieked, grabbing her arm. "You can't be here! Get back up there, there's a perfectly comfortable seat with your name on it."

"Don't fucking touch me!" she shoved the man that had grabbed her, he stumbled back into camera equipment, looking scared.

"Okay," he said, holding up his hands. A stack of paper was clutched in one. "Alright, miss Mason, you can stay here." And just as fast, he was gone.

Good. She hoped he entered every room with fear for as long as victors were around. It wasn't fair that they'd won and still lived with more fear than anyone in that fucking audience would ever know. None of it was fair and it never would be.