I actually was trying to really FEEL the feeling that Ceasar feels here, and it's terrible. If you think about it, being in the Hunger Games, seeing all that killing and then coming out, would be really devestating. Your assignment (haha) for this chapter is to think about how he feels, because you'll understand his emotions, then. Enjoy!

I spend about 2 days alone in the cell. Over those two days, I spend most of them crying my eyes out and sitting with my head in my hands up against the concrete wall, refusing food and water. My mind keeps replaying all the events. If only... If only... If only frequently revisits my mind. If only Leia hadn't been picked. If only we hadn't gone to search for Genus. If only... 

On the third day, a Peacekeeper comes into my cell. I look up, seeing its the first visitor I've had in my confinement. "Your mother has come to see you. You have 5 minutes." He says shortly. 5 minutes? After I've been away from her for weeks? 

Mother hurries into the room and bends down next to me, sobbing. "Oh, darling!" She hugs me tightly. then she smooths my hair down that's sticking up from days of me not brushing it (again). "Why did you do it sweety?" She sobs at the same time as she hugs me.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. He's such a..." At a glare from the Peacekeeper outside, I close my mouth. He steps in.

"5 minutes are up. Come along, Mrs. Flickerman."

"But..." She's pushed out of the cell while I glance at her with sad eyes.

*******

"What are you doing?" I look up as the Peacekeers come into my cell a day later.

"You're about to get an audience with the President. Count yourself lucky." He secures my hands behind my back and shoves me out of the cell.

My eyes are blinded by the sunlight, which streams through the clouds as we get outside. It's about a five minute walk until we enter a mansion. It's huge - all white. The furniture is more exquisitd and lavish than we have, even in District 2.

President Snow is cutting his flowers when we arrive. He looks at me, and for the first time, I see the instigator of our Hunger Games face-to-face. I clench my hands slightly. He notices and smiles.

"Ceasar." He flicks his hands at the Peacekeepers and points at my handcuffs. "They won't be necessary. You may leave us."

They bow, take off my bonds and depart.

"Ceasar, I have been doing some thinking." He motions for me to have a seat in his garden. "I can very easily kill you. And I probably should, too. If people knew that there was someone who was rebelling, then they might join in... and that could lead to disaster, couldn't it?"

"I wasn't trying to... rebel, President Snow. I just don't like the fact that Cornelius is just such an old fool that couldn't be nice to a tribute if he tried."

"Victors," Snow says carefully, trimming a white rose, "are usually mentors for the next games. I cannot see you..." he smiles. "Forgive me, Ceasar, but I cannot see you mentoring someone, as your win was one of... consequence, am I right?"

"Yes." I say. "So you're going to kill me?"

"No, I didn't say that. I like you, Ceasar. No one except for me was able to stand up to Cornelius."

He goes across to an urn and draws out another pair of shears. "You know... Cornelius died the other day."

I gasp, head reeling.

He laughs steadily. "It's not your fault, dear Ceasar. He had a stroke and died of completely natural causes." He doesn't sound convincing. "I want to offer you a job, young man. How would you like to be: Ceasar Flickerman - the next host of the Hunger Games?"