You would think from Adalaide's disgraceful expression that it was her that got reaped. Yet, it was the absolute opposite. My cherished Strawberry was reaped from the whole populace of District 8. A fence of just total calamity slammed down over her body. She thought destiny would let her off the hook. That she would recite her thankful prayers when night came over. She would be certain that Dad made sure his little Straw was unscathed from a lifetime of ghastly flashbacks and knock on wood. But this wasn't the case. That was until the young lady standing a mere 2 feet from her took up the monstrosity of taking her place. Adalaide had volunteered in place of my dear sister. It was almost as if she was let down that she wasn't intentionally chosen for battle. What a shame for the Capitol, too. The hyped crowd would of swooned over having a brother and sister compete in the same District. I manifested an advertisement in my head: "BONNIE AND LOUIS TOMLINSON. THE HUNGER GAMES WON'T STOP THEIR LOVE.". How sick. Some might've concluded that this was a coincidence. But, I knew better. Snow had purposely rigged the bowls so it just "happened" to turn out the kids of the man he despised was chosen. This was his revenge. Adalaide had just annihilated his plan by taking Bonnie's place. The President's plan had backfired. And, what a harmonious name for this snake- Snow. I suppose it's reverse physiology. Like how some evil villains in ghost stories are named "Smiley" or "Happy". Either way it was utterly revolting.
People were pushed harshly through the labyrinth of the Justice Building and into a train. With Peacekeepers a little too close for comfort against my backside, they prodded me into what I can only infer as the Waiting and Visitor room after Adalaide was completed with her farewells. Like cramming unwanted nick knacks into the attic. It was too elegant being a room that's supposed occupy you in your moments of dread and dismay. A dictionary of some sorts sleeps a top an ornate table. As if it's the Capitol's way of saying "In two weeks, you'll be dead to say any of the words in this book!". It works on my curiosity, because I'm paging through the English Language in a matter of seconds.Some definitions I search for like: Strawberry: noun [straw-ber-ee] 1. the fruit of any stemless plant, consisting of an enlarged fleshy receptacle bearing achenes on its exterior. Just for the sake of Bonnie. Then, there's the word that I can't resist looking up. It would be senseless not to. And, when I slip to the "V" section of the hearty book, I have no trouble separating the word I desire from the rest. Vindictiveness: adjective [vin-dik-tiv-nes] 1. Disposed to seek revenge; revengeful. Marked by or resulting from a desire to hurt; spiteful. Word for word, it's exactly how Snow alliterated it to me. As if he memorized the exact usage of words from this dictionary.
I placed the book back to it's resting place, not bothering to close it. I hope he knows I researched the word. He should know now that I'm on top of his game plan now. I refuse to let him toy with Bonnie and I. Like we're the thread that he can choose whether or not he sews over and under, or under and over.
Then, the charming stain glasses doors are unlocked in a noisy way. My mother has arms interlocked with a pair of emotionless guards. Her expressions changes faintly like she's in a trance. She was caught into a hypnosis spiral the second Bonnie was called up. It has aged her a millennium in a matter of an hour and her features has took it's toll. Her calloused hands melt with my face. She needs to know that this is sound- sound and real by using her senses to confirm. Something like this needs to be double checked.
"Bonnie...Not here...Fainted...Paralyzed from shock." she can only talk in miniature intervals from surreal distress. Inhaling the musty air with each pause. My poor sibling. Which reminds me I have owe Adalaide the world and even more for saving Bonnie from despair. I shake my head with all the grief and all the traumatism I have.
"Bonnie...When Bonnie wakes up, tell her she's my universe. She's my universe, mother." My words are interrupted by awful, awful, tears. " Her innocent soul will be joined by every step I take in the Arena. It's all for her." I have to grip her blouse in fist fulls to contain my emotions which are splitting at the roots. She only nods, accepting my requests like this is her prophecy.
"Something...isn't right with...Miss. Velvora."
Velvora...Adalaide's last name. This is all my mom could say as she's tugged on like a rag doll out of the room and through the train corriders.