Left In the Dark

The first thing I feel when I open my eyes is the pain in my back. I blink and raise my head and realize that I must have fallen asleep sitting next to the bed. No wonder my neck hurts.

The pounding behind the door makes me jump. A second later I'm on my feet. The door creaks open and a Peacekeeper enters the cell. I take a step towards him, undecided. "Miss Trinket," he says without hesitation. "Your trial is scheduled for today." He holds out a dress to me. "You have fifteen minutes to get ready."

Nodding, I take the dress and take a critical look at it. It is made of cotton and is completely white, without any decorations or special cuts. Simple, almost inconspicuous. But judging by my body odour, it's slowly but surely time for a change of clothes and I have no other choice anyway. After the Peacekeeper leaves the cell, I try to wash as well as I can with the small sink. Without makeup my face looks bald and pale and I feel exposed. A hysterical sob escapes me. How can you expect me to go public like that? Still before a court to make matters worse?

The dress hangs down on me like a washcloth. You can't even see the hint of my curves and that annoys me deeply. I don't know how to present myself like this. Without a brush, I don't even have the opportunity to tame my tangled hair, which falls in blonde curls over my shoulders. In the end, I just tuck them all the way behind my ear and let them fall down my back, so you don't see them at first glance.

I look in the mirror dejectedly. I'm a joke.

As soon as I step out of the cell, I am ashamed of every step I take. I don't want anyone to see me like this. I hang my head in shame and stare at the ground in front of my feet. The Peacekeepers don't say a word, they silently take me in their midst and lead me through the corridors. This time I'm not bothering to remember where we're walking, it wouldn't make sense because I'll never see that place again anyway.

I long for a bath. I sigh and push the thought away, but when my stomach suddenly kicks in, I can't help it. I always eat at fixed times, after all I always have a strict schedule to follow. That's why I hope that the trial doesn't take too long and that I can go home as soon as possible. I have to visit my parents, tell them I'm fine. I'm sure they've already tried to reach me.

After taking the elevator and walking through another maze of hallways, I think we finally reach the room where my trial will take place. I raise my head as I am silently motioned to enter. The moment I enter the hall, I feel the mood change. I stop moving and stare at the man seated behind a wide table.

He wears a Peacekeeper's uniform, but has a medal around his neck. From a distance I can't identify it more precisely. His eyes meet mine and my throat feels tight. I get chills down my spine. To stabilize myself, I clench my hands into fists and take a deep breath. His eyes are almost black. They exude iron discipline and conciseness. I'm out of place. I shouldn't be standing here. Criminals stand here. I'm not a criminal. I have not done anything wrong or illegal.

"Sit down." It doesn't sound like a request, nor a demand, but more like an order, as if he were speaking to a person below his rank. Like he's talking to an Avox.

I raise my head defiantly and take deliberately slow steps to the small table that is a few meters away in front of him and sit down. I look around for the first time. Something is pressing in my stomach and I get a bad feeling.

Where are the people? I was ashamed to go into public with my appearance. But there is no one to see me, except for an escort of Peacekeepers and a representative of the President. He wears a mandatory uniform, exquisite enough to be part of Snow's inner staff. His hair is combed tightly, and he doesn't look at me, like I'm an insignificant thing, nothing of importance.

Not a single person from public life is present. And no one would want to miss the trial of an escort, after all, I don't know of any such case. It would be the first in Panem's history. The fact that there aren't even any spectator seats leaves me puzzled. Something is very wrong here.

The Peacekeeper, who must be the judge, lifts his head from his papers, almost bored, and studies me for a moment. His voice is hard as stone. "Name?"

"Effie Trinket."

"Your real name."

"Euphemia Trinket," I reply, pressing my lips together nervously. I want to ask him what my charges are, why I'm sitting here, why they nearly let me rot in a jail cell. But my throat feels so raw that I'm afraid my voice might fail.

"Your parents' names?"

I stop and pause to look at him. "My parents?"

"Your parents' names, please," he confirms, shooting me a look. "These are mere routine questions at the beginning of a court process."

I'm not convinced by what he says, but what choice do I have? What are they supposed to do with my parents' names? "Lyssandra and Marcus Trinket."

He nods and writes something down. After what seems like an eternity, he raises his head again and something in his gaze has changed, but I can't say exactly what. He looks more focused, his gaze fixed on me more intensely, as if he's really noticing me for the first time. Then he leans slightly over the table. "Were you part of Katniss Everdeen's team?"

You stand accused of high treason.

And suddenly everything makes sense. That was the missing piece of the puzzle and now that I've found it I see it all so clearly.

Katniss.

You're just putting yourself and the rest of us in danger. Haymitch's words.

We are a team. The accessories.

With the Games, you can change history. My words.

It's dangerous to think like that. Haymitch's words.

The crumbling facade. It's really my own fault.

We'll get them out of there. I should have seen it coming.

There are no victors. There are only survivors.

I expect you to make an effort to break away from Twelve. My mother. Was her concern about something more than just my career? Impossible.

I've diverged so far from the Capitol. I'm not the woman I was when I started in 12. There's nothing left of Effie Trinket. But if I'm not Effie Trinket, then who am I?

As if in a trance, I raise my head to the Peacekeeper, who is watching me intently and nod. Guilty.

At that moment, I realize why it's not a public trial. The Capitol traitors will not be brought before the public. They make them secretly and silently disappear from the scene.

The moment the judge extends his hand to the Peacekeepers behind me, I realize there will be no hearing of evidence. Because the Capitol convicts their traitors without trial as long as it keeps up appearances. His voice sounds far away, like I'm miles away from him. And I wish I was. "Euphemia Trinket, as part of Katniss Everdeen's team, you are deemed guilty of high treason. The punishment will be carried out immediately."

I am violently pulled from the chair and for a moment I feel the hard ground on my back before they even more barbarically pull my arms to my feet and handcuff me from behind. So tight I cry out in pain. Then they drag me out of the room. The last thing I see is Snow's representative grinning mischievously.

I don't know where we're going, but my heart is racing. The punishment will be carried out immediately. They're going to kill me. They are going to execute me.

I do not want to die. And that thought is enough to throw me to the ground in front of them so they let go of my arms. Then I run as fast as my feet can carry me. Something is ringing in my ears. It drowns out the unlocking of their guns as they aim their rifles at me to shoot me to the ground. I don't hear it, but I can see the bursts of their ammunition roaring past me and burying themselves randomly in the walls.

My legs give out before I make it to the next corridor. Excessive pain shoots through my right calf and I scream. My vision goes white with pain, and I fall sprawled onto the floor. My jaw hits the white tiles with full force. I can taste the blood on the inside of my cheek and I feel sick. My head is pounding like crazy and something is ringing in my ears. I try to get onto my palms as fast as I can and slowly roll onto my back.

The world around me spins like a storm. I see people running towards me, but instead of stopping in front of me, they walk past me. Or do they stop? The dizziness is so bad I can't tell. Someone is panting. It's probably me, says a voice in my head. I lower my gaze and almost faint. There's nothing but blood where my leg should have been. Blood. There's blood all over the hallway. Streaks of blood like blood-soaked hands would leave.

I gasp and raise my hands in a weak gesture. They shine red. A hysterical squeal comes out of my mouth. You would have thought that watching the Games for years would have made me insensitive to blood.

Someone is tugging at my shoulders. With a startled yelp, my fingers try to find a grip on the smooth tiles as someone drags me down the hall by my hair. I scream, thrashing, but all I get is more pain.

"Why don't you kill me right here and now?" I yell at them. My sight is taken from me. But not by the Peacekeepers. My brain spares me these atrocities. Maybe if I walk away now, I'll save myself the real execution. But while the rational part of my brain has already given up, the little voice in my head is begging to be heard. I don't want to die, it says. Do i want to die? I don't know it. The pain is so severe that I can't think straight. Everything rushes past me. Maybe it's my life too.

I want to give up, fall asleep and wake up in a peaceful place. A place without violence. A better life. But I won't have a better life. Never.

Haymitch, a voice calls out in my head. There is still a chance for a better life. Haymitch didn't leave you here for nothing. He had a reason.

I open my eyes. "Haymitch!" And yet already a moment later I know that Haymitch won't help me because Haymitch is far away. In a safe place.

-

Another week, another chapter. What do you think will happen with Effie? Will the Peacekeepers execute her?