stillplaying | 16th Game [video]

[She's spent the last week hiding. Skipped guitar lessons with Teddy and archery lessons with Henry, barely showed her face in public. Most of her time was spent in the far reaches of the woods away from any areas she knew Sokka might hunt. When she could bother going on her forays. But in the past week, they hadn't felt quite the same. She hadn't been able to lose herself in the hunt as she normally did. Not when there was a fear in her belly that she might see him.

At least Gale had been smart. He'd put that space between them by moving to District 4. This town was too small. It lacked that space she had had in Panem. And because they had been so damn open about their relationship at Prim's party... People knew. So many people knew.

If there was one thing that Katniss couldn't stand, it was humiliation. She didn't want to see their pitying looks. Hear their echoed apologies. She had already had to go through that once. When she had lost Peeta, when her heart had truly broken. This? This didn't hurt as much. No, it was the mortification and the self-disgust that really bothered her now. At least she hadn't been so stupid as letting herself fall in love. But if it had gone on longer? If he hadn't had his death penalty removed, would she have?

Better to have them all hate her, despise her, than pity her. At least that she knew how to deal with, felt as if she could accept. Because they'd be right not to like her. All of them would be right. This likable girl her friends thought she was? That was a lie, only a part of whatever charisma it was she held over others. And today? Today seemed like the perfect day to do just that.

Effie's last post remained fresh in her mind as she turned on the video recorder in the journal. Her hair was neatly braided in its custom side braid. The mockingjay pin pinned high on the chest of one of her nicer blouses, displayed where everyone could see it. She stared resolutely at the camera for a minute before she nodded.]

Today, back in my home of Panem, would have been the first time in seventy-six years that a reaping of contestants for the annual Hunger Games would not have occurred. As many of you know by now, every year, on this day, the names of two children from each district - a boy and a girl between the years of twelve to eighteen years of age - would be selected to fight to the death in an arena days later. The Hunger Games served as entertainment to those who lived in the Capitol. People like Effie Trinket who didn't know better. An honor to those in the richer Districts, the ones favored by the Capitol. For the rest of us, it was a punishment, a reminder of the cost that came with rising up against our government.

[She took a deep breath, lips pursed together for a quick second as she remembered. She spoke without thinking. Determined, she only realized later, to take the heat off of Effie for her suggestion of games here in Luceti. Her mockingjay wings twitched behind her. But once she started speaking again, the words tumbled out. She held her gaze steady, grey eyes showing all the emotion her stoic expression hid.]

Many of you were angry when Effie suggested the idea of gladiatorial-like games here in our prison. But Effie was only acting like everyone else here, trying to make the best out of a horrible situation. Looking for something that would make her feel more at home. Just like the rest of us. You have no right, no right at all, to judge her for that. You don't know our world. You don't know what it could be like.

The 75th Hunger Games, the Quarter Quell, were the last official games held by President Snow and the Gamemakers. But they weren't the last Hunger Games. Because after the second uprising ended, after we won, the surviving victors of previous Games met. There were only seven of us left. Me and Peeta. Our mentor, Haymitch. Johanna, Enobaria, Beetee, Annie. We were given a choice by President Coin - the new leader of Panem, the leader I executed in revenge for my sister's death. One last Hunger Games, this one played by twenty four children directly related to those who held the most power in Panem.

I think the way the vote fell was obvious. Peeta and Beetee and Annie voted no. The better of us. Johanna and Enobaria voted yes. And Haymitch and I? We had the last votes. But he's as unlikable, as bitter as I am. I suspected how he'd vote. And I voted to kill those Capitol children anyway.

I am not a good person. Maybe... maybe I thought I could change. Maybe I thought I could put all this behind me. The Captiol, the Hunger Games, Peeta... But girls like me don't deserve to be happy. They don't deserved to be liked. Or loved.

So do yourselves all a favor and think before you make a judgement about someone. Because as wrong as you are about Effie? You're just as wrong about me.

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I'm at home.

[It wasn't really meant to be a yes or a no. Just a simple statement of her location. She doesn't want to leave the house, the sanctuary she has in her bedroom. Because dealing with the aftermath of her post over the journal is one thing. She doesn't think that she's brave enough to deal with it in person.]

Okay. I'm... I'm going to come over. [He says quietly and leaves the book open for a moment in case she has anything to add. Otherwise, he closes it and will try to head over to her house. He doesn't really want to put Katniss on the spot like this. But he can't deal with this over the journals. It can only be in person.]

[There really wasn't much to add to that statement. He'd either come over or he wouldn't. And she had no intention to go anywhere. It just seemed like too much work. Far, far too much work. And she couldn't bring herself to care.

Closing her eyes, she pushed the book away and leaned back against the pillows. Preparing herself for what might come next.]

[And eventually, within half an hour, there's a soft knock at her door.]

[Hiding in her bedroom, she doesn't hear the knock at the door. Leaving the room meant risking seeing Prim or Richard or Effie and she didn't want to see any of them right now. Not after everything she had just admitted on the journal.

But, thankfully for Aang, the door wasn't locked. It should be easy for him to find his way into the house.]

[He is a bit hesitant to enter - to invader her privacy, but he slowly opens the door anyway and peers in.]

Katniss?

[She looked away from the window towards the door in time to see Aang peer in. Her lips quirked to the side. He had come here after all.

Did he know? Did Sokka tell him? Or did he really just come here to talk to her about her damn journal post? She didn't know.

She didn't want to know.]

Hi.

H-Hello.

[He came in nervously, hesitantly.]

I'm sorry. I... I thought I had to see you in person.

[She nodded slowly, not taking her eyes off of him. He had to see her in person. Why? She didn't understand. Whatever had to be said could be said through the journal. If matters got uncomfortable, he could just close the book. Both of them could pretend this never happened.

But keeping her thoughts to herself wouldn't get her any of the answers she wanted. She tilted her head slightly, pursing lips together.]

Why?

It just felt more right than... than just talking over the books. [He shakes his head.] You said a lot of things, Katniss, and... I'm having trouble really understanding a lot of it. [He sounds weary, hurt in a way. Not like a young ball of sunshine but older.]

[She hated that she had done this to him. Aang was one of the few people she knew, could even count on, to be optimistic. To provide some sort of ray of hope where she had none herself. But there was no hope on his face now. Not even the slightest hints thereof.

Despite that, he had more guts than she did. She never would have confronted someone about words spoken on the journal. At least, not in person.

Her breath caught in her throat as she shrugged slight.]

Like what?

[Like almost everything. Like how she could have done all those things. But one thing actually finds its way to his mouth before anything she did for revenge. He almost chokes it out.]

Were you saying... that Prim... [He breathes] that she...?

[he can't finish the sentence.]

[A quick nod is confirmation enough. There's no reason to expand on the reasoning behind her sister's death. Hadn't she already said enough? Prim died. Prim had been included in the war because of Katniss, because of what Katniss represented to both her enemies and her allies. And Katniss had been completely unable to save her.

There's nothing - nothing in any world - that would ever make up for that. That would ever take away the guilt.]

No...

[He whispers as he hangs his head and closes his eyes. It's hard to not cry. He didn't know Prim extremely well, but she was his friend. He had done what he could to make her birthday special. And it was a blow now, to realize that this life here could be all she had.]

Prim... I'm so sorry.

[Whether he was apologizing to her or to Prim, she didn't know. Didn't care. The words were clearly meant. The look on his face was clue enough. And for a moment, she felt bad. Aang didn't have to know. Didn't have to know one thing about what had happened back in Panem. But he already knew a lot thanks to those damn chocolates back in February. From other small discussions they had had here and there.

She hung her head as well. It still hurt. Every time she mentioned it. Every time she saw her sister here, young and alive and thriving.]

Me too.

[He sniffs and blinks back several tears, going on somewhat hoarsely.]

And that's... is that what made you do... those things?

16th Game [video]

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