It's only when the smoke completely disappears that Caesar reaches out to touch my headpiece. It has now changed completely from black to white, and I'm just awed at how Cinna worked with my outfit.

"You've changed into a...a bird," Caesar observes, scanning my new outfit.

"A Mockingjay," I correct him, "The bird on my token."

I lift my arms to display the wings, and the audience gasps once more. A look of recognition comes across Caesar's face, and I can tell that he knows this bird isn't just my token, but something that symbolizes much more. This costume change will mean so much more to those watching the interviews in the districts. Whether or not he realizes the impact, he seems to keep a relatively straight face.

"Well, I think your stylist deserves a round of applause; this dress is the most spectacular thing we've seen tonight!" Caesar exclaims, gesturing for Cinna to rise from his seat and take a bow. Then suddenly it hits me. The costume itself was an act of rebellion, and presenting it at an event so large like this- I was certain there would be repercussions. I was so scared for him and his words suddenly came to mind...

["Don't worry. I always channel my emotions into work. That way I don't hurt anyone buy myself,"] (page 253 lines 22~23)

...and I am just so scared that he's hurting himself irreparably. My transformation tonight will not go unnoticed by Snow.

The audience roars into applause, and I almost miss the buzzer signalling that my 3 minutes are over. I take a bow with a smile, and Caesar sends me back to seat.

I pass Rory on the way, and he's relatively quiet. He gives me a quick nod and smile before nervously walking over to Caesar for his turn.

"Now give it up for our final tribute, Rory Hawethrone!" Caesar roars, soon to be accompanied by the cheers of the crowd.

"Now Rory, you're quite...an interesting tribute for this particular quell. Any thoughts on that?" Caesar asks him.

"Well, I was a bit scared myself. Me, a non-victor, volunteering for a Victors' Game. I started questioning the legality of my actions, but when no one stopped me, I marched right up to that stage, and...now I'm here," he told Caesar.

"But you understand, these tributes you will face are all victors, how on earth did you gather the courage to volunteer in a game like this?!"

"I had to," Rory starts as he fiddles with his hands, "For Prim, and for...Gale."

"Could you elaborate on that?"

"As I watched Prim in the games last year, my heart broke. She could've died in there! I felt hatred for the Capitol. For sending such a young innocent girl into the games- how could they?! She was only 12, and they didn't care about her at all, she was just treated like a pawn in their games. How could I sit back and watch it happen all over again?" Rory choked, tears of anger forming in his eyes. Caesar just sat back, unsure of what to say. Then finally,
"How about...Gale, who is he to you?"

I knew this was no better of a topic to ask Rory about. I sighed, hoping the buzzer would ring before Rory caused anymore damage.

"Gale is my brother. But he no longer lives with us, the Capitol has dragged him here to serve as my servant! How much crueler can a human being get? This past week, I had to watch my mute brother serve me food, make my bed, clean my room- and I couldn't do anything about it. He's only 19, and life at home wouldn't have been any better for him. Working in the mines, he would've rarely spent any time at home. And all that coal mining we do in the district, how much coal do the district 12 villagers get to use? Close to none! We're left to freeze in the cold.The one day my brother could rest, would be another work day. He would had to provide for our family of 5, because the Capitol can't spare us even 10g of food each day. And here they purposely barf it up while when we're left to starve. Panem! Do you not realize what your country is doing to you- your Capitol that you've so much respected is not what you think it is. Every single year, they tear 24 children away from their parents and throw them into a cruel game that kills 23 innocent children annually. Panem! How crueler could this get? When these victors were guaranteed to be out of these games, they're just thrown right back into the dreaded arena. Our Capitol is corrupt! Underneath its layers of sparkle, shine, and ostentatiousness, is filth!"

The crowd goes wild, and Caesar fails to control the bedlam, not even when the buzzer sounds. Rory takes a small bow through his tears and walks back to his seat, right next to mine. I watch as Caesar tries again and again to rein the audience, but even his attempts to speak now fail, his words incoherent from the shouts of the crowd. The anthem starts to blare at maximum volume, and the tributes rise as scheduled. I turn to Rory, thinking, what have you done, as I watch tears streaming down his face. He then extends his hand towards me, which I hold firmly. I turn to Chaff and hold hands with him also.

It happens quickly. The tributes, up and down in the rows, all start linking hands. By the time the anthem comes to it's final verse, we're all in one unified line. The first act of unification among the tributes since the Dark Ages. People start realizing this, and the screens all turn black. But it's too late. Everyone has seen us.

Us tributes start exiting the stage through the darkness, stumbling into the Training Center in which we had entered from. I've lost Chaff by now but Rory's hand still lies in my hand. Finnick and Johanna start to approach us, but then two Peacekeepers take them away, leading us to the elevator, and we ride alone to the twelfth floor.

"How did I do?" Rory asks innocently.

"You were...aberrant," I tell him with a shrug. That was the end of our conversation.

Far away in a distant land called District 12, my mother and older sister will be nervously awaiting our fate. Tomorrow we will be going into the arena, where we'll fight to the death. They will also be thinking about Rory's words today, said boldly, words that cannot be taken back.

I'm just left thinking about how us tributes have had our own uprising, and the Capitol won't be able to hide it this time.

Rory and I are greeted with Haymitch when we exit the elevator.

"Chaos. Everyone's been sent home, the recaps of the interviews have been cancelled," he tells us, ushering us to our respective rooms.

"What are they even talking about," Rory mumbles.

"Do you think they're asking to cancel the games?" I say out of curiosity.

"Do you think Snow would allow that?" is Haymitch's response. We all turn quiet as we reach our rooms.

"I guess we won't be seeing Effie," I sigh, thinking about last year, how I hadn't seen her in the morning of launching. "Tell her goodbye for us."

"Make it real special," Rory adds. "I've only known her for about a month, but she's the best escort I could've asked for."

"Tell her that we appreciate all the work she's done with us, and that...we send our love," is what I say.

Haymitch doesn't talk for a while, and we all stand there, as if we could avoid the inevitable.

"I guess we'll be saying our byes as well," Haymitch finally says with a nod, and I almost cry.

"Any last words?" I croak, choking back the tears.

"Stay alive," he says with a shrug. It's almost like an inside joke now. He then gives each of us a hug, and I can tell it's all he'll take. "Get some sleep, you'll need it."

"Take care, Haymitch," I say, meeting his eyes. He nods and we all start to walk away when his voice stops me in my tracks.

["Prim, when you're in the arena," he begins. Then he pauses. He's scowling in a way that makes me sure I've already disappointed him.

"What?" I ask defensively.

"You just remember who the enemy is," Haymitch tells me. "That's all. Now go on. Get out of here."] (page 268 lines 16 through 21)

Rory and I enter our rooms, giving each other a tight hug before we do so.

"Get some rest," Rory tells me, like Haymitch had a few minutes ago.

"You too," I tell him, then we're off to our rooms.

I sob into my pillow, but I know it will only exhaust myself. Soon I find myself drifting off to sleep, anticipating tomorrow's events.

At dawn, Cinna comes to rouse me awake. It's the day of the games. He walks to the roof, where the hovercraft will whisk me away.

"Wait, I didn't get to tell Portia good bye," I cry as I mount the hovercraft.

"I'll tell her."

The electric current of the ladder freezes me in place until we reach the top, where they inject a tracker into my left arm. It's so they know where I am throughout the games.

I take a seat as the hovercraft takes off. I sip water from a cup as I watch outside the window 'till it turns back, thinking back to how I had almost died from dehydration last year.

Before I know it, we're in the launch room. I shower immediately, then let Cinna braid my hair into two braids. Then soon he's dressing me over my undergarments, into this year's tribute outfit. I dark blue jumpsuit that zips up on the front, a six inch-wide padded belt coated in purple plastic, along with a pair of nylon shoes with rubber soles.

"What do you think?" I ask Cinna, as he examines the fabric of my outfit. After some time, he frowns then looks up.

"I really don't know. It offers little protection from the cold or water, and possibly from heat if it's been treated..."

I try to imagine what the Gamemakers have in store, but I get nowhere.

"I almost forgot," Cinna says, pulling out my mockingjay pin from his pocket. He fastens it onto my suit, and suddenly everything turns real for me.

"Thanks for yesterday, it was spectacular," I compliment him. Spectacular and dangerous. He's smart, he would've known as he made the outfit. He had taken the risk for me.

"I'm glad, thought you'd like it," he tells me with a soft smile, then we sit in silence before they announce the launch- just like last year. When they do announce the launch, he takes me over to the metal plate, then zips up my suit completely.

"Prim, I'm still betting on you," are his last words to me before the glass cylinder encase me.

"Thank you," I say, though I doubt he can hear me through the glass. I wait for the plate to lift but it doesn't. I'm confused, and look to Cinna for an explanation. He just gives me a confused look, telling me he knows no more than I do.

Then suddenly the door behind him bursts open, and three Peacekeepers enter. Before I know it, they're dragging Cinna away. The first one pins Cinna's arms behind his back, the second one cuffs him, and the third knocks him out with a lethal punch. There are cuts and bruises all over his body, and I'm left screaming as I bang on the glass- trying to reach him. But they pay no attention to me, as they drag away Cinna's lifeless body as his blood smears on the floor.

The plate starts to rise and I feel nauseous. Then I feel the wind in my face, and force myself to stand up straight. Just in time too, since the glass disappeared and I was left free in the arena. I blink a few times as I try to clear my vision. But nothing happens. I stare confused at the shiny ground that kept undulating. Below my feet I see blue waves crashing softly over my boots. Then it hits me. I'm surrounded by water.

This is no place for the girl on fire.

End of Part 2, <The Quell>

~A/N~ Long chapter!

This took me close to 4 hours to write, so I really really hope you liked it- vote if you did :)

-Monica

Attention: I will not by uploading during the month of November due to NaNoWriMo2015. Please be patient with me, and I will try my best to make up for the missed chapters in December (most likely during winter break).