Chapter Twenty-Three

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I took one last breath right as Apollo Rockwell's voice thundered through the air. "In her first appearance since the 23rd Annual Hunger Games let us welcome to the stage... Miss Avery James! The victor from District Seven!" Immediately the crowd erupted in a frenzy of high pitched cheers and loud applause. I held my breath as I walked out on stage reminding myself to be confident. I could do this.

I waved to the audience as I tried to ignore the blinding lights and large amount of people. My waves only caused the crowd to yell louder, now standing and pumping their visits in the air. I smiled widely, purposely flashing my white teeth, and navigated my way over to the fancy couch that Apollo was standing near. I shook his hand enthusiastically and took his invitation to sit down as he did his best to silence the crowd.

"Now now Avery I think we can all agree that you look absolutely stunning today. A true victor. How are you feeling about today's replay? Scared? Anxious? Emotional? Excited?" Apollo asked; the entire audience at the edge of their seats.

I eased into my chair and made eye contact with President Marx who was sitting above the audience, watching me like a hawk. "Say the right thing" I mentally warned myself. Everyone was watching. Smiling, I turned to face Apollo. "I am quite interested in rewatching the Games. It's one thing to live through it, but to see it all unfold in my favor, well, that is just an amazing opportunity." The audience cheered and Apollo looked pleased. I said the right thing. "Well said! Now here we go! The highlights from this year's Hunger Games!"

There was an abundance of screens and projectors positioned around stage and in the audience. This showing would also be broadcasted to all of Panem including District Seven where I was certain that my mother, father, and Faith were most likely watching from. I turned my head to the right in order to face the screen that Apollo and I were told to watch from and braced myself for what I was about to see.

Suddenly, the Anthem blasted and I watched as the screen projected the start of the Games. I forced myself to view the bloodbath and felt slightly nauseated at the sight of all the blood and brutality. Luckily, the video did not focus on the bloodbath long before switching to an image of me running in the forest attempting to escape the acid rain. I felt slightly embarrassed watching myself run through the tangle of trees and brush. Did all of these people really see my most painful, vulnerable moments live on television? And my biggest mistakes? My anxious thoughts were quickly replaced when the screen flipped to a video of Olivia and I together. I felt a twinge of guilt in my heart as all of the memories of Olivia flooded back into my head. I watched as we stood in the forest together laughing, talking, as carefree as possible for being in the Games. She was my best friend, practically a sister and she was gone. I missed her sassy remarks and spirited nature.

A tear slid from my eye as the video cut to Olivia's death scene. I avoided watching and instead stared down at my neatly folded hands. Soon after the video rotated to a clip of me crying in the sand after Olivia's death and I heard a few audible sniffles and cries from the audience. It was painful to watch someone lose their life, but it was equally as painful to watch someone mourn a loss, especially one that meant so much.

Then it was one of my most dreaded scenes. The one where I killed Stone. Citizens in the audience cheered but I felt nothing but disgust. I stared blankly at the screen but did not see anything. My eyes were out of focus, my mind scattered.

Mason. It showed him stalking me up the mountain, poised and ready to kill. My stomach churned at the thought of his betrayal. He knew what he was doing. He was going to kill me all along. The audience was invested in this scene, a silence falling over the stage, but I caught a shadow of movement out of the corner of my eye and turned my head. It was Jace. He was exiting the area. My eyebrows furrowed as I wondered where he was going. Was it too much for him? How did he think I felt! Forced to sit up on stage in front of millions of people and relive the worst parts of my life! I quickly glanced at President Marx who was squinting his eyes towards Jace, watching as he left his seat. I gulped hard. That wasn't good. Jace was already under a tight watch and this would most certainly result in backlash or punishment from the president.

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