mortal 。 𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔬 𝔥𝔞𝔡𝔩𝔢𝔶

000 ─── prologue .

mortal
000  ───  prologue .

" they're all liars "

rowan's view

          𝔗he vast central city of Panem was a spectacular sight when the sun went down. In the daylight, I could see it for what it was, but when darkness enveloped it, and the lights of the buildings switched on, it became easy for me to forget. There was a certain beauty in what was accomplished, that was undeniable. The glass structures crafted to reach towards the heavens were unlike anything I had ever seen.

Even from the roof overlooking the city streets, I could still hear the cheers of the people as parties continued through the night. It had been three days since the 74th games had ended, and still the celebrations continued, showing no indication of stopping. It hadn't even registered, that they were celebrating me. I suppressed that thought with the hopes it would disappear.

From here, I could see the adjacent building that served as my temporary housing more than a week ago. Victors were given separate housing from the tribute center, and for that small allowance, I was grateful. Confronting my own memories would be a steady process that I wasn't quite ready to begin.

Still, the garden that extended from the roof captured my attention. If I looked closer, I could almost see myself standing by the ledge, and beside me, the Career that had initially been my biggest threat.

"You know refusing an offer to join the Careers is signing your own death wish!"

"I think you've mistaken me for someone who gives a shit!"

"You are what I didn't account for, Rowan, and if anyone could win these Games, it would be you."

My hands clutched around the bars to the deck's barrier, until my knuckles turned white. If I let go, I knew they would start to shake. I closed my eyes, hoping it would banish those words, and the pain of losing him. More than anything, I wanted my irrational hope to disappear.

Everyone I had seen since I woke up in the medical center had refused to speak a word to me about Cato, nor had I seen a glimpse of him anywhere. I grasped at possible reasons, my frantic mind proving an effective method of sleep prevention. Perhaps they feared my reaction, and weren't telling me of this death to placate me.

I exhaled slowly, opening my eyes to gaze back upon the sparkling lights. After a few moments, I felt my heart calm once more. The only thing that would have calmed me more than the city lights was the lake back home, where I would rest in the afternoons after a long hunt.

I pulled my arms back to cross them over my chest, gathering the silken fabric of my blouse around my waist. Just that movement made a flash of pain run across the scar on my torso, making me regret how fervently I denied pain medication. I hadn't wanted any drugs to dull the pain of wounds I deserved, and still didn't, though working around the discomfort had proved difficult.

"Scar hurting?" I didn't need to turn to know that Haymitch had joined me, though what worried me was how unaware I had been of his presence before he spoke. My reflexes were exhausted, and nowhere near as sharp as they should have been.

"How'd you know?" I asked, watching from the corner of my eye as he walked up on my right, keeping his eyes on the city.

"You flinched. The doctors told me you refused medication. Can't see why." He shook his head at his own words, making me roll my eyes.

"Yes, I know you would never refuse drugs, Haymitch, but I have a reason."

"Why, so you can punish yourself?" He took my silence as my answer. "All you did is what seventy-three people before you had to do, what I had to do."

I finally looked over to him, feeling rage flicker in my eyes like embers. "I didn't have to do anything other than survive, Haymitch. Instead, I murdered people, I killed Peeta. So no, I won't numb my pain because I don't deserve that luxury." To that, my mentor had nothing to say.

I turned back to the view, waiting for it to calm my heart once more. The slightest mention of what had happened in the arena sent my emotions into chaos, so I didn't know how I was going to manage the interviews and tours to come.

For only a moment, Haymitch blessed me with silence. It was a fleeting peace, for the drunkard scarcely knew how to keep his mouth shut. I hadn't yet forgiven him for his abandonment of me in the medical center, and it seemed as if we no longer knew how to act around one another. I had changed.

"I managed to convince them to give you another night for recovery, but the interviews have to begin tomorrow night," Haymitch said, not bothering to hide his exasperation. My interview with Caesar Flickerman was scheduled for tonight, but I hadn't consented. I believe my exact words to Haymitch had been: "Fuck Caesar, and fuck you." My anger had lessened since then.

"Fine," I shrugged, pressing my lips together. Hard as I tried, I couldn't suppress my questions any longer. "Will you tell me what happened to Cato?"

Haymitch released an audible sigh, and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You know I can't."

"No, I don't know!" I snapped, feeling my anger rise once more. "Why will no one say a word to me, what are they so afraid of?"

"They're afraid of what every single person in Panem is afraid of, Rowan," Haymitch snapped, turning to face me while I still regarded him over my shoulder.

"The president?" I said immediately, raising an eyebrow without a bother. The title brought to mind of elderly man who looked helpless, but there was something in his eye that frightened even me. He was the orchestrator of the deaths of hundreds of children, and I couldn't afford to forget that.

Haymitch said nothing, but he didn't need to. "They're toying with us all, Rowan. All you have to do is play along, and you'll be home soon."

"This never ends, Haymitch, you know that better than anyone. At least you don't have to mentor the tributes from now on." He couldn't stop himself from nodding, and I could see the relief hidden in his eyes. Haymitch had been forced to oversee more than forty teenagers before me, and watch as they died. And that was my grim future.

"Just..." he trailed off, and sighed. "You're alive, Everdeen. Be grateful you're going to see your family again." With those words, he turned and walked away.

"What did you mean, when you said 'you're not alone.'" I said suddenly, forcing myself to keep my eyes on the city.

I heard him sigh again, and I heard the elevator door open before he said his last words to me for that night, "exactly what I said. You don't have to suffer alone."

The elevator door closed, and I was left alone once more. I shuffled over to the edge, glancing down at the thousands of people crowded around the buildings. "But I deserve to suffer alone," I whispered to myself, basking in the truth of my own words. That night, I fell asleep in the corner of the roof's deck, listening to the chants of victory.

xxx