post 74th - part 1
johanna’s pov
When I get back, Blight’s sitting in the living room, eating a bowl of soup while watching Caesar and Claudius review the key moments of the Games. He barely looks up when I enter, so I’m able to sneak past him and into my room. I grab the outfit I was wearing on the train ride here and walk back out.
“I’m going home,” I tell him.
He finally lowers the bowl of soup to look at me, then sets it down on the coffee table. “Wait, I’ll grab my stuff. And…wait…I didn’t get to say goodbye to Katniss and Haymitch, or congratulate them, or thank them for—“
“Well, I’m going home now,” I huff as I grab my shoes. “If you wanna stick around and chat with them, be my guest, but remember that they just watched their girl get shot and they’re not in a very talkative mood.”
Blight thinks about it for a second, then sighs loudly. “Fine.”
He gathers up his belongings pretty quickly and we’re out the door in a few minutes. The streets are packed with people celebrating, but we manage to weave through the crowds to get to the train station without getting stopped by anyone. We’re not the main attraction, of course, so nobody gives a shit about the two victors from 7 passing by. Besides, it’s not like anyone cares about me to begin with.
Nobody cares about our district right now either, which means we can take the train whenever we’re ready. Alone. There’s no one else interested in going to District 7, because nothing fun is happening in District 7. In fact, they’re probably still mourning our tributes.
We’re about to step onto the train when I hear the rumbling of the hovercraft. Instinctively, I turn to it, stopping midway up the steps.
Katniss is up there. She’s on the hovercraft somewhere, with Haymitch and Effie, still trying to help their tribute. The poor kid’s probably wrecked, and I wonder if Katniss can handle that. Well, of course she can’t. But I hope she can at least make it through this shit. As mentors, we have to relive the Games every year, but this…this is just too similar. Personally, I would’ve broken down a while ago.
“Johanna?” I hear Blight call from inside the train. Suddenly, he’s standing in front of me, following my gaze up to the hovercraft. “You coming?”
“Yeah,” I mutter.
Tearing my eyes away from the hovercraft, I head into the train behind Blight and find the dining car. He makes himself a new bowl of soup as I sit down and order a coffee. The trip to 7 should take about a day or two, but I can’t wait. I need to get home.
As the train starts moving, I lose myself in a daydream as I think about everything I’ll do once we get home. I need to just sleep for a while, of course, and spend some time relaxing alone in my house. But then I’ll probably head to the market and maybe I’ll visit Blight if I get bored.
After a while, Blight clears his throat loudly and mutters, “Haymitch says he’s worried.”
“About?”
“How Snow will react to these Games.”
Honestly, I’m shocked that Haymitch admitted something like that to Blight. It’s not like they’re friends, and even if they were, Haymitch never struck me as the kind of guy to wander around talking about shit like that. He’s a problem victor, but in a different way.
“You mean the ending?” I ask Blight.
He shrugs. “Well, yeah, and…the whole thing really,” he chuckles, eating a few spoonfuls of soup. “Nothing went as planned, at least as far as he’s concerned.”
“I wouldn’t say nothing went as planned,” I argue. “I mean, our tributes got killed for saluting, the whole arena got covered in Snow, and they only have one victor. Seems to me like he got what he wanted in the end.”
“But…Johanna, you really don’t see it?” says Blight exasperatedly.
“I see it. Of course I fucking see it, and it’s about time, right? I mean, we’ve just sat back and let this shit go on for years!” I can feel my face reddening, and maybe I shouldn’t let myself get pissed off about this, but it’s also so frustrating. Where was this revolution three years ago?
“Johanna…”
“Look, you and Haymitch might not want to admit it out loud, but I will,” I snarl. “I hope people see what happened this year and do something about it. I hope they finally fucking act.” With that, I stand up, head to my cabin, and slam the door.
Do I really think the whole country is gonna come together overnight and overthrow the Capitol? Of course not. But I can hope, and honestly, maybe someone could manage to kill Snow if things got crazy enough. And that might actually make a difference.
Regardless, I don’t want to think about it right now and I shouldn’t have to. I’m going home, and I don’t have to think about anything until the victory tour comes to District 7.
Thank fucking God.