The Hunger Games (Peeta's Point of View)

Chapter Twenty Seven

I am pleasantly surprised when they begin with the reapings, because we're not thrown straight in to the deep end. It progresses in chronological order, to the chariot ride, then our scores, then our interviews. I can't help but notice how much of the focus is on Katniss and I, but I'm not complaining: that means we won't have all the deaths thrust in our faces as much. But there's cheerful music playing, creating a dichotomy, because the events weren't cheerful at all, and neither are Katniss and I, and as for the other tributes- well, it's hard to express emotion of any kind when you're squashed up in a little wooden coffin. 

Next up is the arena. They show the bloodbath in great detail, but there's a pattern emerging: a shot of a dying tribute, then a shot of one of us. I watch myself form an allegiance with the Careers, and it's no wonder Haymitch didn't send me anything. But then, hints that I was tricking them show up, like when I didn't lead them to where I thought Katniss would be. Then it's that tracker-jacker incident, and I'm reliving the fight with Cato. Watching it like this is just another reminder that I can't escape it; even my fake leg will remind me every day of what I had to do to stay alive. 

They show all of Katniss' movements in the arena, too, including acting as saboteur and evading the Gamemakers' traps. I didn't expect her to team up with Rue, the little girl from Eleven, after the tracker-jacker nest dropped. Perhaps she reminded Katniss of Prim. They were about the same age, and Rue was good with herbs. In the few snippets that are shown of the two together, it seems that was the case. The way Katniss gives Rue her sleeping bag, how they sung the mockingjay tune together, how Katniss reacted to Rue's death- their alliance isn't focused on too much, but the death certainly is. She sang Rue's own little funeral song, and just like how the birds stop to listen, the audience are captivated. Katniss' voice is indeed beautiful, but the lyrics are too dark, and the song is meant to let someone pass peacefully, not to entertain. I'm not sure if the audience can see past the veneer. A tear trickles down on-screen Katniss' cheek, and one trickles down on-stage Katniss' cheek, too. It's almost like they're the same person.

Then, I have to remind myself, that they are.

It's no question what spin the Gamemakers are trying to put on this. When I was ensnared in the mud after being wounded, they show me murmuring Katniss' name even in my sleep. When the rule change was announced, they show Katniss calling out my name, then hastily covering her mouth with her hands. When we were reunited, they show her being unusually patient with me. I get to see all I missed after she drugged me with the sleep syrup: meticulously camouflaging the cave so opponents couldn't notice me; racing to the Cornucopia to take our backpack and having a confrontation with Clove; jamming the hypodermic syringe into my arm before it was too late. Again, I'm struck by the realisation that Katniss Everdeen saved my life. She could have let me go, but she chose not to. Without Katniss, I would not be here.

We have no choice but to watch Cato's death, with the muttations just as horrifying as they were in the flesh, with their characteristics that they shared with the fallen tributes. Yet I cannot seem to tear my eyes away, as if some intangible force is keeping them there. Maybe it is my own masochism. 

Everything falls silent as our on-screen counterparts hold out the dark, swollen berries. This is the peak of our performance. Everything I felt in those final moments comes flooding back to me and I grip Katniss tighter for support. Then, instead of finishing with the announcement of our victory like they usually do, they show Katniss hammering on the hovercraft's door as they take me away, vicious screams tearing from her throat as they try to save my life. I steal a glance at Katniss, but her eyes are wide and drinking in what is shown on the screen. I don't recognise the emotion in them.

The screen fades to black and then the anthem plays, signalling President Snow's arrival. We have to stand up, and I'm taken from the past to the present. Despite being sat there for hours, I do not wobble when I rise. The cane is like an extension of my arm now. A young girl is behind him, holding a plush cushion on which sits the crown. A bubble of confusion is present in the crowd, as surely there must be two crowns for two victors, until it pops when President Snow twists it, separating it into two. Softly, he places it on my head,  smiling. This moment seems to confirm that we have done it and will be returning home, as if everything that's come before was full of doubt.