Hey, this will be my first fanfiction that is not an oneshot. I hope you like it! It is a Madge and Gale story. I will try to update every few days, I haven't decided. I will make an effort to keep each chapter at least 2,000 words. It will vary from Madge to Gale's point of view.
It is set during the bombing of District Twelve, but this time Madge survives. However, its true, no one went back to save her. But will that make a difference in the end?
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. I just died a little inside when I typed that, but it's true. :(
Enjoy the story my ever amazing readers!
Dead. They are dead. They will never return to me. They will never give me a hug, offer comfort, or care for me. Because they are dead. My parents are dead, along with half the population from Twelve.
I can't let this get me down though. I have people to care for. For once in my life, someone is now depending on me and putting their faith in my every move. I would be the most heartless person in the world if I let them down. So I am going to keep them alive. I am going to care for them, feed them, and love them. Even if I work myself to the bone, even if I starve or go mad from dehydration, I am going to work every last fiber in my body in order to ensure what little safety I can give them.
My name is Madge Undersee and I'm going to make sure my kids survive.
Katniss's arrow hits the unseen mark. Shocks of light and surges of electricity spark the screen. The television shows Katniss one last time, her arm bleeding profusely and her body lying on the ground, then it cuts to black. The box giving a protesting pop before the whole power goes out.
Our lights flicker off one by one, the refrigerator's constant drone ceases, and the cooling system shuts down. My eyes widen in surprise and I lift myself off the couch. Where is my father? Surely he knows what's going on. The power never goes out in town. In the Seam, power outages are common occurrences that happen every other day, but not in Town. In Town the electricity is constant and unwavering. It's a typical Capitol technique to separate the two sides of our district, but it's dependable.
I remember my dad had to stay late again and clear up some paperwork. Apparently, the majority of our peacekeepers have been shipped out. I guess the Capitol finally figured out we are too weak to rebel, no matter our persistence.
I puzzle over our power dilemma, what just happened? Katniss did something I'm not able to understand, and it caused the Capitol to shut off our power. She must have performed another rebellious act. The thing is, it has to have been something so influential that they needed to close off the program without even playing the Panem seal and anthem.
I make my way to the stairs to check on my mother. Her state is worsening day by day. The headaches becoming even more severe and forcing her to lapse into morphling induced blackouts. I suspect the reason of it is that my aunt's pin being flashed everywhere as a sign of rebellion and the particular brutality of the Hunger Games this year because of it.
I walk to her doorway and peer in. I see her small lump under the covers in the dark room. I notice the vial of morphling on the bedside table and know she will be deeply asleep. Not even an earthquake could wake her. I smile sadly. At least when she's passed out she is at peace. I may have missed out on a mother all throughout my childhood. But that doesn't mean I don't love her. I do, so much. I'm her caretaker. The roles in our family are reversed, I being the strong female role in our family, and her the hidden, out of eye, family member.
It isn't true that I'm the stuck up girl everyone thinks I am, or at least, I hope it's not. Maybe I should be, it is what's expected of me, but I'm not. In an odd twist of fate, I'm not fond of our wealth. Oh, I wouldn't give up the food on the table or the warmth every winter, but I don't like how it separates us from everyone. How it pulls my father away to work all hours of the day, how it's still not enough to cure my mother, how everyone hates me because of it. I've grown up with it, so I don't know how to live any differently, but it doesn't mean I'm not aware of everyone else's poverty. I am very much aware, I see the skinny frames of the children from the seam and the dirty clothes. I notice how they're rarely able to change their clothes, yet I get a new dress every week.
And I don't like it. I don't like the Capitol or our government. Maybe I don't voice it aloud like the rest of my district, but I still hate them. Because all the wrong in our district? It's their fault.
I descend the steps and finally mull over the one thing that is truly worrying me. The image that is playing over and over in my mind. The state I saw Katniss in. Blood flowing freely from a cut that a tribute inflicted and body sprawled out on the dirt floor. I'm worried about her, she looked worse for wear. Clothes ragged from her short adventure throughout the game, her wounds more prominent, and the possibility, from what I saw on screen, that she has been electrocuted. I can't help her from here, not matter how much money I donate, if she's been too injured to fight.
I decide to go see my father. He may be able to do something about our lack of power. He also may be able to shed some light on Katniss's situation, she couldn't be dead. She didn't look dead. Katniss just isn't the type of person to die. She's a survivor, a fighter, and untouchable.
I take the spare key under the potted plant as I exit out house. I lock the door behind me. Storing the small piece of metal in my dress pocket, I start the short trek to the Justice Building. There's a hum in the air that I ignore. If anything, I am most likely imagining it. I'm a bit riled up today.
Despite the sky beginning to darken and curfew soon to be enforced with the few peacekeepers we have left, people are buzzing in the square. Most emerging from their houses in a confused state or walking about questioning one another.
Over the chatter of people, I hear the hum become a steady whir. It seems everyone is too caught up in the recent events to notice it, and the few that do, aren't paying attention to it. I pause and listen carefully. If I choose to, I can easily to overlook it, but I take the time to study it. A foreign sound resonating from far away, its low sound increasing and settling a feeling of uneasiness in me.
I look up to the sky and notice a large speck in the setting sun. It is getting larger and larger. I squint and lean forward. It's a… hovercraft? District Twelve doesn't get hovercrafts, we just don't. Peacekeepers and my father, very rarely, are the only ones allowed to leave our district. Even then, it's only by the train that passes through our area occasionally.
The only reason I know what it is, is because of our television. Otherwise, I would be clueless. I'm puzzled and frozen in curiosity. What could it possibly be doing here? There's no one important enough for a hovercraft to be picked up in District Twelve. I would know of any scheduled visits or guests from the Capitol.
I start moving again, this time with even more perseverance. I need to get to my father, he'll know what's going on. He has to, he's the mayor.
I slip out of my walk into a jog, weaving through crowd and snaking through people. The hovercraft is getting closer. People are pointing and murmuring amongst each other. Some are even shouting angrily at the flying machine. A few are returning weakly to their homes, but most everyone is just standing and staring, only adding an occasional word into the conversations here and there.
The hovercraft is almost over us, high in the sky and pausing a small distance from the crowds. It passes over us in favor of heading toward the exact same place I am heading for. It stops directly over the Justice Building. I break out into a run. Something feels wrong, terribly and horribly wrong. I have to warn my father or have him explain this to me. I push past motionless citizens.
The horde of bodies is so thick I can barely make it through. Most people staying put and not moving when I brush roughly past them. They are too curious and worried about these strange circumstances to take notice of me.
The hovercraft is releasing a giant unfamiliar object from its clutches. Everything's in slow motion as it falls. Slow and steady, not breaking its course no matter how much I will it to. I know what it is without ever having seen it before. I know the destruction it will inflict and the pain. I know the deaths it will cause. I know whose death it will cause. I'm dazed as I try to force everyone away. There's no fear or anger, because all I am is numb. I race to the building. But it's like I'm not fast enough, like I'm a part of my slow motion view. My body is moving sluggishly. I am not aware of the rest of my blurry surroundings. All I can hear is the whistle of the potent object as it falls. I can only stare at the Justice Building, everything else is irrelevant.
An earsplitting boom snaps me out of my stupor. I'm knocked a couple steps back even though I'm not near the collision course. Then everything rushes back, breaking me out of my sluggish state. The world returns to normal, I can hear again and I can see everything again. But I don't want to, I want my hazy bubble back. Because I see it. I see it and my mind can't register it. I gaze at the torturous flames engulfing buildings. I hear the cries of surprise and screams of fear. I notice people being blown back by the shock of the bomb. I taste the smoke in the air. I feel the heat on my skin and the force of the impact.
I'm glued to my spot, my feet stopping movement of their own will. It is a vast contrast from the running and fleeing people around me. Some yank on my arms or shoulders as they run away, trying to get me to follow them. They stop when they realize it is a futile attempt trying to convince me to escape. I'm rooted and unmovable. The square is almost clear when I start screaming. I'm screaming for my father. I'm cursing and crying and yelling all at the same time.
My mind catches up with everything going on. Even though in my heart I know it's useless, I run for the burning building. I can feel the intense heat and noxious gas, and I ignore them. I ignore it when I'm close enough that the flames start little licks on my skin and I ignore it as my head dizzies from the smoke.
Every structure surrounding the Justice Building is burning. Falling apart and aflame, ruined. I don't pay them any mind as I can only focus on one thing.
The only thing that stops me are the hunks strewn outside of the now crumbling structure. It takes me a moment to recognize them, they are so damaged.
Burnt and charred body parts. An arm to my left and a leg to my right, the scorched flesh falling off and the clothes melting onto the limbs. My stomach churns and twists at the sight and any hope is diminished. Sobs wrack my body and I start dry heaving.
Only when I fall to my knees do I finally grasp the pointlessness of my efforts. The sickening proof is right in front of my eyes.
My father is dead.
Please review, I encourage you to also message me with questions and etcetera. Here is a little treat for those of you who really need the next chapter. I will message you a sneak peek from the next chapter if you review!