Snow
Breathe in. Breathe out.
A lock of hair fell in front of my face as my prep team combed, plucked, and painted me into perfection. I looked down at the strand and noticed the white tips of my hair glimmered in the light. Thinking back, I couldn't even remember when I first started dying my hair. It was a way to make me stand out I guess. Dark black hair, bright white tips, I was the Capitol and the Districts combined.
"Hold still darling." One of the girls from my prep team stepped in front of me and began applying something to my lips. "You look absolutely stunning."
"Thank you." My mind was still on Kern and our cut off conversation. "How many times do I have to do this?"
"As far as I know, it's this, once more after the interview for pictures, and then a final time before the party just for touch ups." The girl answered. Her hand delicately waved the wand across my lips.
"Thank you." I repeated, absentmindedly. "When do I get to meet the tributes?"
The girl's hand froze. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that Miss Pristeen?"
A mistake. I'd slipped up. "You know what I meant, the visitors from the Districts. When do I get to meet them?" Before the attendant could respond the door opened, and she bowed down low.
"Rise," President Snow spoke. His footsteps echoed across the marble floors. "Leave me and Miss Pristeen. I must speak to her."
The girl stood and motioned to the rest of her prep team. They exited in rapid fashion, scurrying like tiny, tattooed rats.
"Coriolanus," I stood. Rather than my dress for the night, I was wearing my training outfit. It was a simple navy tank paired with black pants and combat boots. "It's good to see you."
"You must be thirsty." He handed me a glass of what looked like orange juice.
Cautiously, I gave it a sniff. The frilly, white lace that adorned the bottom of the glass could not hide my weary gut feeling.
"It's not poisoned, my dear." President Snow sighed and took a seat in my chair. "Truly, it hurts that you would think so low of me."
"Pardon me," I set the glass down on the table. "Your reputation precedes you. Besides, I've had a bit of distaste for Capitol drinks ever since that little accident with the tracker jacker venom." My tone was laced with as much venom as my drink.
"The avox was disposed of immediately. You know this. Such mistakes will not be tolerated. He was clearly a spy from District 13." President Snow waved his hand dismissively.
"Of course," I nodded. Our eyes matched and a mini power struggle occurred.
President Snow and I had been at a standstill for a while now. He needed me to win the Districts back. I was their symbol, their fighter, they trusted me. That meant he couldn't publically torture or poison me. My sanity had to be kept intact. At the same time, my defection would result in many innocent deaths. By staying within the Capitol, I was able to guarantee the safety of more than I would be able to otherwise. We both played dangerous odds. President Snow was aware that I could turn the tides of this war at any moment. I was aware that he would get rid of me the moment he could.
"District 13." President Snow broke our gaze and chuckled. "Weak, pitiful, disgusting. They hide traitors." His eyes glanced up at me again.
This comment received a reaction from me. My fists clenched, and I looked up at the ceiling. "Pathetic." I agreed, thinking of Jerome, Jason, Vena, Mitch and Thalia. "Absolutely horrid." My memories of the Games were fuzzy and strange. It was a side effect of being revived. Still, I'd seen most of the tapes. The end was always cut off, which I found suspicious, it was no doubt a ploy by President Snow to conceal the truth. Still, no amount of editing would hide the fact that I'd been betrayed by people whom I'd once trusted.
"So here is the plan for tonight," President Snow took the drink off the table and held it in his clenched fist. "You do your interview, you say what a blessing it is to be in the Capitol and do your thing."
"And in exchange you stop the missile strike on District 3 and instead drop a shipment of food and medicine," I interrupted. "They have been compliant recently, and they've briefly halted supplying the rebels."
"Briefly," President Snow emphasized. "Briefly won't win us the war. Besides, them turning their backs on the District 13 has merely been on the surface. Within the factories, there are still rebels sending weapons to the enemy."
"You're wrong." I shook my head. "I went there myself last week, remember? While that may be partially true, there's been a large crackdown on those who hold allegiance to the rebels." I eyed the glass in President Snow's hand. "What about a compromise? A small shipment, just a taste, lure them in, show them what allegiance can buy them."
President Snow set the glass down again. "No. I will not reward treachery and neither should you."
"You're not rewarding anyone," I snarled."My goal is to keep families alive. That's it. District 3 can be an example. You give them a few supplies, make some propaganda out of it, and show the other Districts how the Capitol will keep them alive and happy. You want me to put a smile on my face at the interview? This is what'll buy my silence."
He opened his mouth to speak but hesitated and looked at me carefully. "What is your ultimate goal, Snow? I will never end the Games, if that's what you want."
"You may change your mind soon enough."
"I don't think I will," he laughed cruelly. "If anything, perhaps the Districts need harsher conditions. We must show them what happens when they cross the Capitol."
Despite my anger, I kept my voice and face calm. "Fear breeds rebellion. Fear breeds mutiny. Fear breeds a revolution. If not now, then one day, perhaps soon, and I will not be around to be your little Mockingjay. My voice, my face, and my symbol will not be able to keep your precious throne safe. Empires rise and fall Coriolanus Snow. The question is, will you fall with yours?"
For a few moments, neither of us spoke. Neither of us breathed. Then, like a flash, President Snow lurched and grabbed the glass with the frilly, white lace in his clenched hand. With sudden force, he threw it against the white tiles, and it shattered.
I didn't flinch.
"Your prep team will be back in here in a minute to beautify you and to clean up your mess." President Snow didn't even glance down at the remains of his momentary fury.
"What about my request?" I asked tentatively. My words were slow and sensitive, as I was careful not to overstep the boundaries.
"Granted," President Snow spat. "And I'll even throw in a bonus and send some supplies to District 2 as well. Consider it a birthday gift."
"Thank you." I bowed my head ever so slightly, causing my hair to fall to one side. This caught President Snow's attention.
"Lovely little drawing you have there." His eyes traced a spot on my neck. "Is that a flower?"
"An orchid."
"Ah, I see." President Snow smiled. It was not kind or warm. It was a look of menace. "We should get that covered up before the interview, no?'
"Of course," I nodded. "I'll make sure the prep team does that immediately."
"You drew that yourself, didn't you?" He asked.
I nodded again, unsure of where he was headed.
"She died because of them you know? That spear, it was Jerome's."
All at once, the images of that dreadful moment flooded me. Nearly every night, I had nightmares about that moment. Watching Orchid push me out of the way and get impaled with a spear, straight through the stomach, holding her hand as she died, nothing would erase that constant picture. It was seared into my mind like a brand. "I know. The rest weren't far behind." I pursed my lips. Orchid died because of me. Jerome, Jason, Vena, Thalia, and Mitch were after me, not her. But she died in my place. When I closed my eyes, I saw the moment on replay. Her frightened and gasping expression as the spear entered her body scarred my mind. The moments before and after were a blur because of my recent surgery, but no amount of time or medicine would heal this wound. "My mind is still recovering."
"The price you pay for being brought back to life." President Snow stood. "Your memories are fuzzy."
"I'm sure you had no part in that," I responded calmly.
"But of course."
"I should get back to prepping for the interview," I took a seat in my chair after sidestepping the broken glass.
"I'll leave you then." President Snow opened the door but caught my eye in the mirror. "Snow?"
"Yes?"
"You're playing with fire. Be careful, or you might get burned."
Moments later the prep team scuttled in. "Miss Pristeen, how are you?" The head girl asked politely as they all bowed.
"Rise," I replied. "I'm quite alright."
"Lovely," the head girl said as her team pulled out their supplies. "Any special requests?" She asked as they all bent down to clean up the shattered cup and spilled orange juice.
I looked at myself in the mirror. My finger slowly raised up and brushed the small drawing on my neck. The drawing was in black permanent marker. It was simple, but it was all I had left of her.
I wasn't ready to let her go.
"No, just continue what you were doing before."
I may have been the symbol of Panem. I was the face, the voice, the Mockingjay.
But this was my symbol.
My symbol of rebellion.
A/N
are you proud of me??? I WROTE ANOTHER CHAPTER!!!!!
Gosh, I'm so bored but so blocked.
any suggestions for this story? leave them in the comments below!!
love y'all
-lucy