I know this voice was real, but I do not open my eyes. I have not moved since I awoke and am merely replaying my... experience over and over, trying to make sense of what has happened. I have come to terms that this attack was not a dream, but now I face the daunting task of having to clarify what it was and, more importantly, what Katniss was.
"Peeta," I feel breath on my face and the scent of rotting animals and alcohol fills my nostril, "if you don't get up right now, I'll put a few more marks on that pretty little face of yours."
This man sounds remarkably like Haymitch, but I know it's too good to be true. Haymitch abandoned me for Katniss in this game just like before. I can't say I'm surprised, I mean, it's what we agreed on, but knowing he was trying to save me would be rather comforting fact at this point in time.
I keep my eyes closed and focus on the pain in my neck rather then the stink enveloping my two good senses, smelling and hearing. My sense of touch has only felt cold hard ground since I found myself here. My tongue has stayed in my mouth without protest and with my eyes shut as tightly as my weaken self can manage, I am perfect game for anyone in the mood to hunt.
I feel comfortable to the thought of dying though. I would be easier for everyone, Haymitch, Katniss, Gal-
Katniss is a dirty mutt, Peeta. She doesn't deserve an easier life; she deserves to be shot through the head.
I can feel my eyes widen under my eyelids. Had the man with the rancid breath said that? No, the voice was to clear to have be registered by ear. This voice was in my head. The real question is, do I reply?
I clear my throat and take a deep breath, 'what?'
Oh Peeta, you fool. I'm not going to do all the work for you. Just be a little more observant next time.
'Next time,' I pause trying to gather my thoughts, 'what next time.'
No reply. I'm on my own.
Suddenly the cold ground leaves the company of my back and I feel my feet dangling the air. I know then that the man with the rancid breath is going to kill me and I can't help but feel a bolt of excitement coarse through my body. But instead of a knife to the throat or a stab at the heart I feel of punch connect with my right cheek and my world goes dark.
****
"Oh now look what you have done!" A shrill voice brings my world back into the light, "He has got a big old shiner on his face and he needs to be on television TODAY!"
"Well I'm sorry, but the kid was just lying there with some weird-ass look on his face"
"Well you're lucky you have the best stylist the capitol!"
That's when it all connects. Television, capitol, and the unmistakable capitol accent clicked in my clouded brain. My eyes shot open and I have to stifle a scream. About two inches away from my face is an alien-looking capital drone.
Her rose pink face twist into what I think is a smile and her yellow cat eyes glitter with happiness, "There are those ocean blue orbs I just adore!
The giant pink flower rises and scurries away so I use this time to observe my surroundings. I am in a giant square room full of wall to wall windows. I see a well-built man in a uniform leaning on the frame of a door. His black hair brushes the tops of his jade green eyes and his face reads an expression that seem like boredom mixed with frustration.
"What are you looking at," he sneers when he notices I was staring at him from, what I expect is, my pitiful position on the floor.
I'm able to prop myself onto my elbows before the pain in my sides flare and I plaster a smirk on my face, "You."
"Listen up, kid," the man glides towards me with a devilish look in his eyes, "I don't like you. You are in no position to be holding that look of yours." My face falls, "I would have already killed you if it wasn't for Lilaplak," he notions towards the door where the stylist had disappeared through so I assume that must be Lilaplak, "convincing me to keep you alive to campaign against the rebels." He leans in close and his breath holds its familiar stench, "I would be dead if it wasn't for her so be nice."
He gives me a hard kick to the stomach before retreating back to his original spot. Lilaplak scurries back in followed by a trio of other capitol freaks.
"Alright," Lilaplak's face twist back into the capitols take on a smile and she, with the help of one of her helpers, pulls me into an overstuffed high chair, "let's make you beautiful. Peeta!"
The use of my name on her lips sends a uncomfortable chill through me.
****
I look in the mirror at myself. Never underestimate the power of the capitol. I have gone from a dirty, weak mess of a person to a glowing, renewed Peeta.
The man with the rancid breath leans next to my face and examines my in the mirror, "You can sure work magic Lilaplak."
Lilaplak face twists into a grin, "Ah Randal, I could just kiss you."
Randal smiles and takes a couple steps towards Lilaplak. He's actually going to kiss her.
"But I'm too busy right now." She continues, oblivious to Randal's reaction.
Randal... a surprisingly normal name for someone of the capital. Of coarse he doesn't hold the capital look either. Who is this man?
"All right darling," Lilaplak's right hand man, Poliolnoid, pulls me out of my thoughts,"time to the interview."
"Interview?" My mind is blank
"Yes! The only thing we've been talking about all this time! You are being interviewed by Caesar Flickerman about the games and the rebellion! Its being broadcasted to the whole capital and all of the districts! You are so lucky..."
Poliolnoid mumbles to himself about interviews as he pulls me along many hallways and corridors until we reach the interview stadium I know so well.
Caesar is out of sight, but I see President Snow and he is coming towards me. His puffy lips seem to form some kind of smirk and his eyes are sizing me up like some kind of animal.
"Hello Peeta," his breath turns my stomach, "how has your stay been with us so far?"
"Fabulous," I say through gritted teeth, trying not to smeel his bloody breath.
"Good so you are willing to listen to me."
I raise my eyebrows and give a yawn, "About what, exactly?"
"You and Katniss were tricked in the area by Haymitch and your supposed allies and now they have tricked her into becoming the mockingjay."
I'm not to surprised. Most of this I had figured out on my own, but the mockingjay information takes me by surprise. Does she actually expect to win a war? If she does, she is a fool. The rebels have changed her, tricked her, something.
"You are going to be viewed by everyone," he leans in closer, "most certainly the rebels. It is your job to convince them to stop fighting. Understand?"
I give a slow nod, "And if I fail?"
President Snows eyes begin to glow, "Everybody dies. Johanna dies. The avoxes die." He leans in until his face is only millimeters from mine, "Katniss dies."
My body pulses then freezes. He can't do that can he? She's safe. Right?
Don't doubt him, Peeta. He'll kill the mutt just to torture you.
Before I could answer I am pushed onto the stage and into the same plush chair as always. I remain motionless, but I feel President Snow come behind me.
"Don't mess up," he whispers, his breath licking my ear and making my nauseous.
He walks away and I am left to face Caesar Flickerman. He smiles and gives me a nod
"Five, Four, Three, Two," the cameraman calls out and suddenly the cameras are rolling and the crowd is cheering.
Caesar gives me a long look, "So... Peeta... welcome back."
I give a slight smile, ignoring the pain of my covered up wounds, "I bet you thought you'd done your last interview with me, Caesar."
"I confess I did," Caesar says.
He continues to take and I continue to answer, but only one thing is going through my mind. President Snow's last words.
Don't mess up
Don't mess up
Don't mess up
Don't mess up or Katniss dies
I look in the mirror at myself. Never underestimate the power of the capitol. I have gone from a dirty, weak mess of a person to a glowing, renewed Peeta.
The man with the rancid breath leans next to my face and examines my in the mirror, "You can sure work magic Lilaplak."
Lilaplak face twists into a grin, "Ah Randal, I could just kiss you."
Randal smiles and takes a couple steps towards Lilaplak. He's actually going to kiss her.
"But I'm too busy right now." She continues, oblivious to Randal's reaction.
Randal... a surprisingly normal name for someone of the capital. Of coarse he doesn't hold the capital look either. Who is this man?
"All right darling," Lilaplak's right hand man, Poliolnoid, pulls me out of my thoughts,"time to the interview."
"Interview?" My mind is blank
"Yes! The only thing we've been talking about all this time! You are being interviewed by Caesar Flickerman about the games and the rebellion! Its being broadcasted to the whole capital and all of the districts! You are so lucky..."
Poliolnoid mumbles to himself about interviews as he pulls me along many hallways and corridors until we reach the interview stadium I know so well.
Caesar is out of sight, but I see President Snow and he is coming towards me. His puffy lips seem to form some kind of smirk and his eyes are sizing me up like some kind of animal.
"Hello Peeta," his breath turns my stomach, "how has your stay been with us so far?"
"Fabulous," I say through gritted teeth, trying not to smeel his bloody breath.
"Good so you are willing to listen to me."
I raise my eyebrows and give a yawn, "About what, exactly?"
"You and Katniss were tricked in the area by Haymitch and your supposed allies and now they have tricked her into becoming the mockingjay."
I'm not to surprised. Most of this I had figured out on my own, but the mockingjay information takes me by surprise. Does she actually expect to win a war? If she does, she is a fool. The rebels have changed her, tricked her, something.
"You are going to be viewed by everyone," he leans in closer, "most certainly the rebels. It is your job to convince them to stop fighting. Understand?"
I give a slow nod, "And if I fail?"
President Snows eyes begin to glow, "Everybody dies. Johanna dies. The avoxes die." He leans in until his face is only millimeters from mine, "Katniss dies."
My body pulses then freezes. He can't do that can he? She's safe. Right?
Don't doubt him, Peeta. He'll kill the mutt just to torture you.
Before I could answer I am pushed onto the stage and into the same plush chair as always. I remain motionless, but I feel President Snow come behind me.
"Don't mess up," he whispers, his breath licking my ear and making my nauseous.
He walks away and I am left to face Caesar Flickerman. He smiles and gives me a nod
"Five, Four, Three, Two," the cameraman calls out and suddenly the cameras are rolling and the crowd is cheering.
Caesar gives me a long look, "So... Peeta... welcome back."
I give a slight smile, ignoring the pain of my covered up wounds, "I bet you thought you'd done your last interview with me, Caesar."
"I confess I did," Caesar says.
He continues to take and I continue to answer, but only one thing is going through my mind. President Snow's last words.
Don't mess up
Don't mess up
Don't mess up
Don't mess up or Katniss dies
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