Chapter Fifteen
"So she's okay," I say, taking a deep breath and looking at my brother. He pushes himself off the wall outside of the room my mother is in.
"She is?" he asks, a brief smiling lighting up his face. I nod and we both start making our way to our rooms. "Dad..." he starts.
"He said he'll be there tonight," I tell him curtly, not wanting to listen to any of his whining.
"But he's still in the hospital, Iris," Rye whispers as an Avox passes us. We're both quiet, and nod briefly to the attendant. He gives us a sorry look.
"He said he'll be there, all right?" I snap at him. His face looks hurt and I quickly try to compensate. "If there's one thing our parents have never failed on is promises. So don't worry."
"They're the interviews. I've never been more scared in my entire life," Rye says with a frown.
I chuckle. "Even more than when we found out we were going into the Games?"
He gulps some air and then responds, "Yes."
"Even more than when we found out Haymitch was probably going to be our only mentor?" I ask.
He pauses before answering. "Okay, maybe that beats the interviews."
We both laugh. I see my room, and I start slowing down. "Hey, he got both of our parents out of the arena alive."
"Twice," Rye says. "But that was more than thirty years ago."
"So? He's still the same person," I say.
"I guess." We arrive at my door. "But we're not prepared like everybody else."
"Okay, so we had to spend most of our time in a hospital rather than training or meeting with our stylists," I mumble.
"And we had to skip out on the opening ceremonies," Rye adds.
"And that," I agree. "But we're the children of the two most famous people in Panem." I cross my arms. "The two people responsible for our freedom."
"What freedom?" Rye says. "Look where we are now. And in that war, many people were killed. Many the relatives of the people that live today. There has to be some contempt for that."
"Yes, but it wasn't their fault-"
"Iris, our mother is the person responsible for the war," Rye whispers angrily.
"She didn't-"
"She shot that arrow. She's the reason we're here now. If she would have died-"
"We wouldn't be here," I say finally. I open the door to my room. "I'm starting to think you're not on the same side as us."
Rye gives me a look of betrayal. He's about to speak but another voice behind him says something first. "I am too." The man approaches us and I recognize him as Gale. "Your mother did what she had to do. We were slaves. You lived your comfortable little life every day, so you don't know what it feels like. You don't know what it feels like to have to worry for your life every year. To give yourself up for death to feed your family. You never had to watch anyone die or suffer!"
My brother and I stand there, heads down, our hearts heavy. This man... his force is one I've never encountered before. I put my hand out. "I'm Iris," I say, looking up and giving him a small smile.
"I know who you are," he says, then looks at me a moment and reaches out his hand. "I'm Gale Hawthorne. Mayor of District Two."
"Nice to meet you," I say and then point at my brother. "This is Rye."
Gale shakes his head. "You two are spitting images of each of your parents," he says. "Except the eyes. They're switched."
"Oh, I never noticed," I say.
"I didn't either," Rye adds.
"Yeah? That's because you didn't know your parents when they were your age. The look of uncertainty you both wear..."
"Oh, well thank you!" I say.
"Shouldn't you kids be getting ready for interviews?" Gale asks..
"Yes, we should be," Rye says. "I'll see you later, Iris. Gale." Then he walks off.
"I guess I should be going too," Gale says. "I'll see you later, Iris."
"Bye," I say, and then walk into my room.
When I close the door behind me, I lean against it and close my eyes. "What time is it?" I ask my room.
"Five twenty eight A.M," a pleasant female voice responds.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"You know, the war really was your mother's fault," someone says.
I look up, wondering what said that. Was it the computer? No. That voice sounded much closer. And much less pleasant. I look at my bed and then I see her.
Alva.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, tensing up.
"Relax, sweetie," she says, getting up and coming over to me, putting one ice-cold hand on my face. "I'm not here to kill you. If I wanted to do that, I would have poisoned your food. But I already knew that your father and mother found a way to build up immunity to it. So I did it to scare them." She smiles at me and then faces away from me and starts walking. "Or I could have bombed your house whilst your brother and you weren't home when I first took power, saying that it was an unfortunate thing that happened. People would have been angry, sure, but no one would have done anything."
I look around for something, anything, to help me defend myself from her. I see a candle holder that has pointy ends. I tip-toe up to it and grab it. "That won't help," Alva says matter-of-factly. I stop, looking at her. She was still facing away and continued to talking. "But like I was saying, no one would have done anything. Your mother isn't as important as she was before. Sure, she's valued, otherwise she would be here right now instead of you. But her life isn't worth a war anymore."
"What are you saying?" I ask nervously, my voice shaking, sweat beading up around my eyebrows.
"I'm saying that neither of your parents matter anymore. It's you and your brother now," she says, taking the candle holder from me. "I'm telling you that your life, that's what people would start a war for."
Gulping I look at her deep in the eyes, trying not to be afraid of their snake-like quality. "I don't know why, but I don't think that's such a good thing."
Alva grins. "Oh my, you're so smart! You're catching up now."
"You're going to kill me," I say.
"Yes!" she says. "Yes, dear. And that sweet brother of yours," she says, emphasizing the word sweet.
I purse my lips. "So then why do you even want us to go into the Games?"
"Let me tell you something," she purrs, sitting down on my bed, patting the space next to her. I slowly join her and look into that grotesquely beautiful face of hers. "If I just killed you, then I'd look like a tyrant. People wouldn't dare cross me. But, if you went to the games, and you died from a very unfortunate incident that just screamed Gamemakers, then the country would be mad at the government for the Games. They would rebel."
"I don't understand why you're here," I say. "I mean, the whole thing would have been so much more believable if you would have just killed me when the Games started."
"My sweet, I'm here to tell you that you're going to make people believe that you think you're going to win. I want you to reassure people that since you're Iris Mellark, this whole thing will be easy for you. And to be very careful in the arena. So your death won't be overlooked as an accident of foolishness."
I nod, slowly taking in every word. "And what about Rye?"
"What about him?" she asks innocently.
"Are you going to his room to tell him this too? He won't let you. He won't," I say.
Alva laughs and rises, making her way out of my room. "My dear Iris, I think Rye's already got that covered."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"Rye may be Peeta's son, but he's got Gale's fire. He sees everything as a conspiracy. He'll be naturally perfect at convincing people that he's going to win because of his senses." Before she reaches the door, she exclaims, "Oh, I almost forgot!" She then smiles at me, and takes out a small box and places it on the table by the door. "A little gift. For tonight. And for the arena. Good luck." Then she's gone.
I stay seated on my bed. Okay, I'm going to die. And so is Rye. I should have seen this coming, right?
But I didn't.
I hadn't even thought about the fact that two weeks from now, I might be dead or alive. And if I'm alive, that means my brother is dead.
That's when I made up my mind. I had to protect him.
The small box catches my eye and I get up and open it carefully, half expecting it to explode. But when I finally remove the lid, I see that I would have rather preferred an explosion. Because what sits lightly on white velvet, shining with silver coating, means so much more to me than anyone else.
It's a Mockingjay.
*A/N* So sorry about the wait guys! But I hope you guys liked this chapter. I'm sweating D: The encounter with Alva was quite unexpected, huh? And so was the threat. Well, anyway, tell me what you guys think! :) Have a blessed day/week/month. Haha.
-Daniela <3 xx