Thalia // The Hunger Games One-Shot

//Hi everyone. This is a Hunger Games one-shot I wrote when I was sixteen. I am actually quite proud of this work, among all the other embarrassing works I have produced. Thalia is a fictional character of my own creation. Through the story you will figure out who she is. I hope you will come to like this little piece. Please leave me a feedback, either a positive one or a negative one. Thank you for spending your time on my blog.//

The story begins after this scene.

THALIA

I lifted the small girl off the cold metal floor of the hovercraft and gently laid her down on the bed. Then I pulled the spear out of her stomach, half the blade covered by her blood. Rue, that’s her name. Poor thing, she’s just twelve. Twelve. And she died with a spear in her stomach. I observed Rue from close for the first time. She has smooth dark skin, and an innocent pretty face framed with small dark brown curls. Some of the flowers are still stuck in her hair, and I didn’t bother to pull them out. Katniss did the right thing after all. I knew she wanted to show Panem that the tributes were not just a part of their ‘show’. Katniss has always been a strong and dignified person. People all around the Capitol called her ‘The Girl on Fire’, and they’re right. She has the flame in her. She never lets anything control her life or stand in her way, not even in the Games. Sometimes she reminded me so much of myself. Before I was captured and imprisoned in the Capitol, that is.

Ever since I found out that Katniss took Prim’s place in the Games, I was very nervous, scared even. As someone who’s been working on this hovercraft for years, of course I would be. Every year I see young children dead with blood all over. Some had their hands bitten off by the Gamemakers’ creatures, some were completely burnt by the wildfire, some died of snake venoms and of course, some with spears and arrows in their bodies.

I looked down from the tiny window of the hovercraft. Katniss was no longer in the clearing. She moved on quick and sleek, like a fox, not risking anything. She’s clearly a good hunter. Having been watched her for two whole weeks in the control room, she’s evidently used to the woods, that to her, hunting and staying alive were second instinct. I was surprised by her ability to use bows. I was never good with bows. I was more of a dart person, which was almost useless when it comes to hunting. Most of the time I had to rely on my traps.

When Katniss had Rue in her arms earlier, she was crying and singing her a lullaby. Dad’s lullaby, I recognized. So Dad taught Katniss the song too. Of course he did. She was his daughter too, after all. I was sure Prim has also heard of the lullaby before, Katniss must have sang it to her on her sleepless nights. Dad used to do the same thing to me.

Suddenly a wave of memories hit me hard. I miss Mom, I realized. I miss District 12, even though it’s nothing much. I miss the woods and the mockingjays. I miss the smell of fresh bread coming out from Bread Boy’s bakery. What’s his name again? Peter? Percy? Anyway, I know what – or who, rather - I miss most. Dad.

When Mom told me in her letter that Dad died in a mine explosion, I didn’t believe her. I couldn’t believe her. Dad has always been a tough lad, like Katniss and I, and the complete opposite of Mom and Prim. He couldn’t have just died like that. I know it better than anyone else, I believe. He had been bitten by a Brown Widow before, but he survived. He almost got carried away by the river at the edge of the woods and be gone forever, but he managed to cling himself to a log and pulled himself up, fighting the strong current with all his energy. He even almost took a bite from a nightlock berry, but at the very same time a rabbit happened to pass through the bush and died around a minute later because of the berry.

So you see, Dad narrowly escaped Death many times. To me he was always a survivor, a fighter. He’s a man who considered taking care of his family his number one priority. He’s a man who would never leave us alone. Dad used to tell me, “Lia, be a good hunter so that if Dad’s not here one day, you’ll be able to feed our family. Understand?” And I told him, “No Dad, you’ll always be here to take care of us.” But now he isn’t, because of a stupid mine explosion. And I didn’t even get to catch a glimpse of him before he left us forever.

My neighbor, Luce, told me in her letter that Dad cried the day I got caught and sent to the Capitol. Mom was worse. She was so despaired that she couldn’t bring herself to cry. She blamed herself for what happened to me because she was the one who gave me the permission to leave the house. I was trying to steal a kind of special berry the Capitol grew, a berry that is the only cure to my old Gramma’s disease. It wasn’t easy to get my hands on it, I had to cross to the other side of the woods. But back then I trusted my instinct and I believed that I could get away with this. It’s either I take the risk or Gramma dies. Dad forbad me, of course, but I knew back then too that it was a difficult decision for him. Gramma was his mother after all. And so on Tuesday morning after he left for work I told Mom that I would be going around the the Hob looking for good trades. First she hesitated – of course she would, I was twelve back then, like Prim and Rue – but after a while let me go. It seems that I could lie convincingly. Then I quietly crept into the woods like I always did and set for the healing berries.

Let’s just say I was extremely unlucky. That very day the Capitol freaks decided to keep an eye on their precious berries, as if their extra-electrified fence and a few manmade creatures weren’t enough. Going through the fence was very risky, as it was more dangerous than the fence surrounding District 12, but I somehow managed to creep in. Before that I threw in some fresh meat with sleeping syrup to handle their hound-like creatures. Then came the lock. I almost managed to unlock it with my rusted wire when whissh, a hovercraft like the one I’m currently working in appear above my head. My untidy hair was flying everywhere and I couldn’t even see properly. All I could think of was ‘Run. Quick.’ Obviously, this time I did not make it. They dropped a net over me and pulled me up by my right leg. I wasn’t sure how hard I was screaming.

In the evening, the Capitol sent a few more peacock freaks to my house to inform my family that they captured me. They asked my family to not speak about this matter to anyone and that if anyone asked about me, just tell them that I’m dead. I’ve always thought that the Capitol people were the most heartless monsters in the whole of Panem, but then they made a shocking decision. I mean, it’s the Capitol’s decision. All letters from District 12 would be delivered to me, on one condition, that is I was absolutely not allowed to reply to any of them. The Capitol freaks were too afraid that any inside information about them would be leaked out. Hah, like I’m going to talk about the Capitol in my letters.

Luce was the first one to write to me, about three days after I was captured. She said my parents were trying hard to cope with my absence and I felt the worse guilt I ever had. Instead of trying to help my family, I had hurt them. In the end I didn’t even get the berries to Gramma. She passed away a month later.

Initially I thought that because of my offense, my tongue would be cut off, like most of the Avoxes. But I was a very quiet and steady person, I didn’t even try to escape (because I knew there’s no good doing so) and the Capitol saw something in me, though I don’t know what. So finally the only thing they did to me was insert a tracker in my body, the same ones they inject into the tributes’ arm. They even gave me an acceptable job in the house-keeping department and years later, ordered me to work in the hovercrafts to pick up dead bodies in the Hunger Games.

Two months after my capture, I received my first letter from Mom. She said that she’s sorry and that she loved me. I knew she cried while writing the letter because there were watermarks on the ancient yellow paper. I wanted to tell her that it’s okay, that everything was my fault and that I loved her too. But of course, there was no way I could write her a letter.

Mom wrote me approximately every two months. I kept them all safely in my drawer in my room, hidden below a biography of one of the ‘remarkable people’ of the Capitol. Through her letters I could see that her heart was slowly healing. She wasn’t as sad as before, and she even occasionally cracked jokes. In every single letter she would also include Dad’s message to me. It was after 3 years that she informed me she was pregnant with Katniss. Then four years later, with Prim.

Life was okay for me then. Until a month ago, when I found out that Katniss volunteered to take Prim’s place in the Hunger Games.

Mom then sent me another letter saying that she didn’t know what to do, that she don’t want to lose her child again, like how she lost me, even Dad. She made me promise her that I would try my very best to take care of my sister. ‘She is so much like you, Lia. You’d know it when you see her in the Games.’ She wrote. Turns out Mom was right. Although Katniss and I do not bear much physical resemblance, we shared many common characteristics. Through the monitors, I felt like I was watching a younger version of myself.

When I knew that Katniss would be taking part in the Games, I felt so helpless. I couldn’t get her out of the death arena, nor could I go anywhere near her to give her advice. Not that I am capable of giving any good ones, now that I think about it. So I did the only thing I could to help my sister – I begged my friend Cinna to take her in and be her stylist. I begged him to use every method he could think of to get as many sponsors for Katniss as possible. In the Capitol, Cinna is probably the only one I trust.

Cinna did not fail me. In fact, on the first day of the Games, Katniss and the Bread Boy were among the few who got the highest sponsors. I owed Cinna so much. I repaid him with a kiss and a confession: I revealed that Katniss was actually my sister. I had to keep this a secret because if the word gets out, I would surely be kicked out of the control room and forbid me from working in the hovercraft. Or worse, this time they might actually turn me into an Avox.

Talking about the control room, I had been watching Katniss from the very first day of the Games. I prayed for her everyday before I go to bed, even now. I prayed that the other tributes wouldn’t hear her footsteps, that her snares would catch preys, that she would never run out of water, that her aims would be perfect, that she would remain strong, that she would never give up.

There were also monitors in the hovercraft, and I looked for Katniss. She seemed exhausted, I bet she would probably crash on a tree soon. The other tributes were a good far distance from her. I smiled. I’ll always be watching you, Katniss. Don’t die. Mom and Prim need you.

I slowly leaned down towards Rue and kissed her on the temple like my sister did, and continued Dad’s lullaby, assuring Rue that she’s now home. Safe.