We land in the outskirts of District 8. The doors open, and we're spit out onto the asphalt. And when the last person comes out, the hovercraft leaves immediately as if we're just a package it had to deliver. Four bodyguards arm Rory and I, including Boggs, who Rory seems to have taken a liking to. The TV crew is with us too, made of former Capitol cameramen with mobile cameras that encase their bodies like insect shells. Their leader, our director, Cressida's head is shaved with tattoos of green vines alone the sides. Her assistant Messalla is a slim young dude with lot's of earrings, with a tongue piercing as well. Like Plutarch, they've come over to our side but still give off a Capitol vibe.

The next hovercraft is full of medical things and honestly I feel like I should be in there too. I'm no Mockingjay, I'm a medic. I watch as they unload crates of medical supplies and many medics in distinctive white outfits disembark. Together, we all walk down an alley between two grey warehouses onto a street. And kid you not, it's like entering a new world. And coming from me, who's been from the outskirts of 12 to the Capitol, the heart of Panem, that's pretty major.

[The wounded from this morning's bombing are being brought in. On homemade stretchers, in wheelbarrows, on carts, slung across shoulders, and clenched tight in arms. Bleeding, limbless, unconscious. Propelled by desperate people to a warehouse with a sloppily painted H above the doorway. It's a scene from my old kitchen, where my mother treated the dying, multiplied by ten, by fifty, by a hundred. I had expected bombed-out buildings and instead find myself confronted with broken human bodies.] (page 86 lines 1 through 10)

This is my field, my expertise, I think to myself. I smile and walk confidently though I don't know the way.

"I'm ready for this," I tell Boggs with a huge smile.

"Oh I'm glad," he replies, "Though your very presence will do more for them than any doctor could."

She smells of sweat and metal. A woman approaches us and her stench is familiar and somehow soothing to me. But Rory scrunches his eyebrows and I know he doesn't feel the same.

"This is Paylor, commander of Eight, and this is commander soldier Primrose Everdeen, and this is commander soldier Rory Hawethorne," Boggs introduces us.

Paylor looks to be in her thirties, a bit young to be a commander (funny I should say that...). But her tone of voice is full of authority, and she was clearly chosen for a reason.

"She wants to see your wounded," Boggs tells Paylor as I watch her intently.

"Oh we've got many of those," Paylor replies and gestures for us to follow.

"You sure about this," Rory whispers, pointing at the warehouse. "Contagious diseases would spread like wildfire."

Paylor must have heard because she tells him, "We thought it would be a little bit better than leaving them to their demise."

Rory's cheeks turn a slight shade of pink. Honestly it's cute.

"Enter, Mockingjay," Paylor commands, "And bring your friends with you."

[I glance back at the freak show that is my crew, steel myself, and follow her into the hospital. Some sort of heavy, industrial curtain hangs the length of the building, forming a sizable corridor. Corpses lie side by side, curtain brushing their heads, white cloths concealing their faces.] (page 87 lines 24 through 28)

"Don't leave me," Rory whispers even quieter, grabbing my wrist. He's adorable when he's scared.

The hospital is so much worse than I expected and honestly I wouldn't want to describe it.

"It smells like someone died in here," Rory whispers. I laugh.

In District 12, we die peacefully in our homes, but I suppose the citizens of Eight lost their houses to the bombing. The smell reeks but I remind myself I'm here for a reason and march down the aisle between rows of patients.

"Primrose Everdeen, is it really you?!"

"You're alive!"

"Primrose!"

Patients reach out and call for me, their faces suddenly filling with happiness and calling for their family to come take a look at the Mockingjay.

"We thought you were dead!" a young girl tells me.

"I was injured, but I'm better. Just like you well be," I reply.

My name roars throughout the crowd like a chant. Pain is replaced by happiness, grief is replaced by hope. People reach out their hands to me, wishing for the chance to touch the Mockingjay. They say hi, asking how I'm doing.

Boggs was right. I haven't said anything. It's the very sight of me that inspires the crowd.

I realize how many people are protecting me, and my importance to the rebel cause. My journey is not alone. There are thousands and thousands on my side. The Mockingjay was alive even before I accepted the role.

Our time at the warehouse flies by and soon it's time to say goodbye. I stand on a table to wave my final bye and I feel something I never knew I possessed. Power.

[Snow knew it, as soon as I held out those berries. Plutarch knew when he rescued me from the arena. And Coin knows now. So much so that she must publicly remind her people that I am not in control.] (page 91 lines 4 through 8)

Boggs congratulates both Rory and I once we exit the warehouse, and while I look invigorated, Rory looks like he's about to faint. Cressida and Messalla come compliment me on my performance and telling me they got a lot of footage. I nearly forgot they were there. Like Mother, I had gone into my zone.

"You were the bravest of us all. I can't believe you let all those people touch you!" Rory exclaims, pretending to gag. I roll my eyes and put my hands on his shoulders as a joke. He feigns disgust and shifts away from me, his eyes playful. I miss the times we could just laugh and have fun as kids.

"Your mother would be proud," Boggs says, clasping a hand on my shoulder.

"She'd be appalled by the situation here," I mutter. Then I face him and ask, "Is it like this in the other districts as well?"

"Mostly. They're under attack and we're trying to help as much as we can but it's far from enough."

Boggs pauses and checks his earpiece. I didn't hear from Haymitch at anytime so I wonder if mine is broken or what.

"We gotta get to the airstrip right now, there's a problem," Boggs tells all of us.

"What now..." Rory sighs.

"Bombers," Boggs says. He puts on his helmet and tells us to move it. There's no alarm, no sense of danger. Then all of a sudden, sirens cry out and everything turns real.

Low flying Capitol hovercrafts materialize in front of us in V-formation and bombs fall.

I see something fly towards me and let out a small shriek but Boggs shields me with his own body. The ground shakes with every bomb.

"Prim!" Haymitch's voice startles me. "We can't land during the bombings, but try not to be spotted."

"They don't know I'm here?" I ask with hope. That would be a first. It seems my presence is known at all times by everyone.

"They probably do know, and the raid was probably planned."

There goes the thought, down the drain.

Plutarch then tells us, "Try to get to a light blue warehouse! That's three blocks south from your location." He must be speaking to everyone because everyone starts getting up at the end of the announcement. I look for Rory instinctively and he's standing, unharmed. "45 seconds until the next wave, go!"

We run. We reach the first grey warehouse in the matter of seconds. The bombs fall and this time it's Rory who shields me from the attack. We run again, reaching the second grey warehouse in no shorter time. I see a dirt brown warehouse ahead and know that we're close. Suddenly, I realize the hovercrafts are no longer targeting us.

"There's nothing behind us," Rory mutters, as if reading my thoughts. Then we look into each other's minds, coming to the same conclusion.

"The hospital!"

"Not your business," Plutarch says and tells us to get to the bunker.

"It's full of defenseless people!" I spit out.

"Prim!" Haymitch warns but I've already made a decision I pull the earpiece out and let it hang from its wire.

I hear another sound, machine gun fire from the roof of the dirt brown warehouse- people are returning fire. I climb up a ladder and Rory yells for me not to stop. I hear a kick in the face and soon Rory's following up. We get to the top and find Paylor and some others manning the warehouse.

"Does Boggs know you're up here?" Paylor asks.

"He knows," I say. He knows, he just doesn't approve.

"Do you know how to use the weapon?" Paylor asks in a commanding tone, holding out guns for each of us to use

"I've been trained in Thirteen, I'll take one," Rory responds and he's takes his.

"I have my own weapons," I say, reaching for my awesome slingshot.

"Three more waves at the least," Paylor calls out, "Stay low!"

"Start with fire," Rory tells me. I agree and with a fire rock, I hit a hovercraft. Rory misses, but just barely. He turns to me and says, "Nice job!"

"I wasn't aiming for it...just the one ahead of it. They're a lot faster than I thought."

"Fire isn't working, use explosives," Rory says. We're like a team that's been working together for ages even though it's the first time we've ever done something like this. I agree with him and soon an explosive rock is in my hand.

"I'm standing!" I shout, getting up to my feet. I shoot more accurately that way. This time I hit the belly of one. Rory nicks a tail. I high-five him as they flip and crash onto the street below, setting off explosions as their cargoes go off. They hit the hospital and I bite back tears. Rory hugs me for a second before we head down.

Cressida is waiting below and I expect her to reprimand us. But instead she's talking to someone on her earpiece, Plutarch I'm guessing, saying that she doesn't care and she's going to take five more minutes. She then tells Rory and I to head for the hospital. Or what used to be the hospital, anyways.

Bombs collapsed the roof and the building is on fire, trapping people inside. Rescuers have come but it's no use. If the debris and flames weren't enough to kill the people inside, the smoke would have finished them off.

"Why do they have to attack innocent, helpless people!" I wail to no one in particular. I turn around and face the camera, and as I predicted, the red light is on.

"Primrose Everdeen, Rory Hawthorne," Cressida says in an official tone. "President Snow just aired the bombing live. He then told the country of Panem that it was a message for the rebels. So what about you, what's your message for the rebels?"

All attention is drawn to us- Cressida, her insects, Boggs- making us the star of the show. I focus on the red light. "The main message I want to share is that I'm alive! I stand here in District 8 where the Capitol released a wave of bombs on a hospital full of helpless citizens, and there will be no survivors."

Rory steps, his voice firm and assertive unlike mine which is sad and pleading. A nice balance, I note to myself. "I want to share that if for one second you believe the Capitol would treat us fairly if there was a ceasefire, it's all an illusion," he says. "Look around you, at the horrors, and know for yourself that we must fight back!"

I grip his hand and step forward. ["President Snow says he's sending us a message? Well, I have one for him. You can torture us and bomb us and burn our districts to the ground, but do you see that?" One of the cameras follows as I point to the planes burning on the roof of the warehouse across from us. The Capitol seal on a wing glows clearly through the flames. "Fire is catching!" I am shouting now, determined that he will not miss a word. "And if we burn, you burn with us!"] (page 99 lines 25-19 through page 100 lines 1-3)

"Cut!" Cressida calls out and I'm brought back to reality from my not-so-fantasy world where I'm a star. Rory throws his arms around me in a you-were-totally-awesome hug and soon everyone else is doing the same. I am reminded once more that I am not alone.

~A/N~ That was...long. Tiring. Off to bed now, hope you enjoy!