Author's Note

So… hey everyone! This is Gemma here with chapter 3 of Forever Forgotten.

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update I've just been so busy… and… I've been a little unmotivated to write for some reason… :D I dunno why! I'll admit I have been waiting a little while to see if we got anymore reviews before continuing!

Anyways, I am starting the chapter now and I have no idea whether it will be long or short so just bear with me!

Here is the chapter! :D


Chapter 3:

I shiver as someone whispers in my ear, so close that their breath ruffles my hair. "Nik slipped me this as she left and we came in." Kaitlin tells me. She places something cold and hard firmly into my palm. "It's to keep you safe."

I pull away gently and look down at my hand. A small, golden brooch lies facing upwards on my palm; it's a MockingJay flying through a golden circle.

"It was your mother's." She whispered. The Jabberjay was a mutt that the Capitol had created. They used them in the rebellion to spy on the districts. The Jabberjays could relay full conversations to people in the Capitol so that the districts found it almost impossible to plan anything without being overheard. However, the people in the districts figured it out and started to give the Jabberjays fake information. The Jabberjays were a mutt that blew up in the Capitol's face and so they were released into the wild to die off. But they didn't. Instead they mated with Mockingbirds to create Mockingjays, a species the Capitol never wanted to exist. "Wear it as your token."

"Thank you!" I whisper gently and a tear escapes my welling eyes. I close my fingers tightly around the pin and stare at my clamped hand. I close my eyes and more tears are squeezed out of my eyes. My throat closes off and it aches as I fight not to sob. I feel rough hands gently prying open my fingers. I open my eyes in alarm as the pin leaves my hand.

James has taken the pin and handed it silently to Kaitlin. Kaitlin's pretty face is red, blotchy and tear-streaked. She comes closer and ever so slowly begins to pin the brooch over my heart. "And that's where it stays." She tells me quietly.

I nod, still incapable of speech. She pulls me into a hug which squeezes the breath out of me as a Peace Keeper opens the door. "Time's up!"

"Please come back, May!" Kaitlin whispers. "We love you!"

She pulls away and fresh tears fall down her face. She turns away and walks out of the room, hugging James sideways for comfort. She looks back and mouths something I can't quite catch but I don't mind. Knowing how much she cares is enough.

PeaceKeepers barge into the room, their guns hanging uselessly at their sides. "Up." Is all I'm told. So I stand. Then, each grasps one of my arms and holds it behind my back and escorts me out of the Justice Building and to the train station.

I take one last glance over my shoulder at my home before a Peace Keeper grabs my head roughly and shoves it forwards into the train. A searing pain runs down my neck and I wonder if they've injured me. It doesn't matter though; they'll throw me into the arena no matter what shape I'm in.

Rid of all emotion and feeling completely numb I struggle to break free of the Peace Keepers. Time stands still as I finally break away and run over to the window just to see the last of district twelve whisked out of sight. Time stays in perfect slow motion as the emotions start to flood my body. I am so full of sadness and longing that it all spills out through my eyes. I squeal through my sobs as a Peace Keeper wraps an arm around my waist and attempts to tug me away from the window.

A firm hand on my arm ceases my struggling and I turn to the person holding my arm. It's a Peace Keeper. Time resumes it's pacing and sound torments my ears. I realise that no one has an arm around my waist, I am not crying and, believe it or not, I'm not even standing at the window.

"Through here, Miss." The Peace Keeper tells me as he points down the hall. I nod and walk in the direction he is pointing. I glance back over my shoulder at the window and the blur of scenery racing past and wonder what happened to me. I shake myself out of it as I look back to the front. No! I must stay strong! I will not look like a weakling in front of all of Panem!

They escort me down a fancy hall with tinkling chandeliers and red carpet until we stop outside a door that reads: "District 12: Female 2, Maysilee Donner". I look back at the Peace Keepers before pushing my way uncertainly into my room.

I stop in surprise as my chandelier automatically clicks on and my eyes are greeted with a vision so Capitolised I almost faint. I have my own bathroom. The door is left open for me to see the huge shower and the bath with strange little taps that probably emit posh substances to clean your skin with. The bed is huge and looks very comfortable. The room is themed gold so everything is glittering gold including my bedspread and the cupboards. Buttons and remotes fill the room and I probably won't get to press all of them.

I slowly make my way further inside and glance over my shoulder to see if the Peace Keepers are still there but the hall is empty. I push the door shut cautiously and turn to look at my room again. Then a joy takes over me and I run to the bed, jump onto it nimbly and bounce up and down to see how comfortable it is. Then I jump off and run to the nearest button. I press it and then I press more and sprint around the room pressing all the buttons within reach laughing as I do, feeling giddy with excitement and stupidly free.

Drawers fly outwards and cupboards spring open and I feel like I could run forever without tiring. They are filled with so many different kinds of brightly coloured clothes that I can't even take it all in. Then, suddenly, as I make my way over to the cupboards to have a closer look, my knees give way and I end up sprawled on the red carpet with no strength to move or get up. A wave of sickness washes over me and I throw up all over the ground. Sides heaving with the effort I push myself up and walk into the bathroom and stand in front of the mirror and, hands gripping the sides of the sink, I vomit some more into the basin.

Looking up, I see my reflection. My golden hair is plastered to my forehead with sweat and my mouth has sick around it. My complexion is extremely pale and clammy and tears leak out of the corners of my eyes. It's now that I realise the sheer desperation of my situation. The vomiting stops and, still crying, I make an effort to wipe my eyes and my mouth and I walk back to the cupboards to get changed into something more comfortable than my mother's dress.

I peel it off and my heart aches as I lay the dress on my bed and see the tear where the sleeve of the dress should be. I pull on a pair of track pants and a jumper.

I flinch violently as Prinny's voice comes through a speaker hanging from the wall. "Will Haymitch Abernathy and Maysilee Donner please report to the dining carriage?"

I rush back to the bathroom and stand in front of a mirror. I jump again as another voice says, "You're looking a bit sweaty there dear let me help you!"

I look around to see who spoke but there's no one there. I only get a moment to be confused before a gust of warm air that tastes of salt and roses rushes past me and, just as suddenly as it had come, stops. I glance at myself in the mirror and I look fresh as if I had just had a shower and had my hair dried. My curls bounce up nicely and my face is smooth and clean and dry.

Smiling slightly and trying to make the best of a bad situation, I make my way out into the hall again and follow the sound of voices and the chinking of cutlery on plates.

I open a door and find myself in a long room with an extremely large table with about thirty seats around it; the other tributes and Twinkle are already sitting at the table eating. At the same time, Haymitch walks through the door opposite me and his features twist their way into a handsome smirk as he takes in the long table, the excessive amount of chairs and the mountains of food being set on the table. There is every single food that I have ever seen or heard of and more.

"Are we expecting company?" Haymitch asks ironically.

Prinny shoos him in the door from behind. "Of course not!" She stares at Haymitch like he could be her next meal and despite my situation I have to restrain myself from giggling. We sit down and start to serve ourselves dinner.

"So what's with all the decorations, Prinny? Don't you think they're a little over the top?" He asks, smirking at her reaction.

Prinny looks aghast. "Over the top? How dare you? These are real gold flowers that cost the Capitol a fortune!

"But what's the point?" He says matter-of-factly I stifle a giggle at the familiar twinkle in his eyes. "You're just going to kill us anyway."

Prinny thinks better of responding and instead, shakes her head at her plate. I look over and smile at Haymitch and he looks at me and smiles with his eyes but not with his mouth; it remains as impassive as ever. I lower my eyes to my plate and continue to eat.

Mouth-watering tomato sauce washes my mouth, sliding over my tongue. I crush a piece of pasta between my teeth, expecting it to be half raw but find it softly caves in at the slightest pressure from my teeth. I fight saliva and try not to let it run out of my mouth. I swallow hurriedly.

Glancing around, it looks as if the other tributes are having the same problem. Aster, the girl with the two brown braids, now has her hair out and flowing around her face, just like her mother's was. She is wearing a pink t-shirt with a love heart on the front and some short denim shorts and I realise with a jolt that she looks just as young up close as she did from a distance. She looks like she can't get enough and even as I watch her she continues to shovel down her mint-marinated lobster salad one mouthful after another.

Austen calmly lifts his spoon to his mouth and gasps as the hot, chicken soup burns his tongue but he continues to spoon it into his mouth despite the steam flowing from the top.

Haymitch scrapes his plate with his knife bringing my attention back to him and I notice that he is finished his lamb and is scraping the gravy onto his desert spoon with a knife. I have barely started my pasta and I chuckle as he reaches for the sushi in front of him. We're all so hungry.

Prinny and Twinkle sit next to each other making polite conversation but anyone could tell they are getting fed up with each other. Twinkle's eyes are looking even more sunken in than usual and all I want to do is ask him to go to bed but that would be disrespectful. He will go to bed when he's ready.

Prinny looks over at Haymitch. "Honey there's still desert to come, you know?"

Haymitch freezes mid-chew and a sick expression appears on his face. I giggle.

Deserts are served and about a thousand different kinds of custard and ice-cream and cakes and slices and wobbly things that I don't know the name of are placed in front of me.

I choose a decadent chocolate cake and pour chocolate custard over my chocolate ice-cream. I reach down and pull the waist-line of my pants out to make room for my bulging stomach. I swear I want nothing more than to ask if I can go to bed but I wait until Twinkle has finished his vanilla ice-cream with coloured sprinkles to ask. I have just opened my mouth to speak when Twinkle cuts in, "It's time for us to watch a recap of the reapings." His words are slurred from fatigue and I don't think he'll last until district two.

I groan inwardly but I see Aster glance at me and I smile reassuringly.

"What for?" Austen asks.

"To find out what you're up against, of course!" Prinny butts in with a wide grin before Twinkle can answer. He seems to suppress an eye-roll. He sighs and closes is mouth exaggeratedly with a loud click.

"Ok then." Haymitch says, looking from Prinny to Twinkle. "Let's get started!"

Prinny leads us all into the lounge carriage where large, soft-cushioned sofas furnish the room. They are decorated by red and gold trimming and draped with red and yellow blankets. A huge black rectangle hangs on the wall that the sofas are facing. It looks like the screen they show the presentation on at the reaping but I'm sure it's not a television.

"What are we watching them on?" Austen asks innocently and I stare at Prinny expectantly. She cocks her hip towards the black rectangle and presses a place on the red piece of glass she is holding. The rectangle comes to life and an apparently green man in a midnight blue suit is shown sitting on a stage by himself in a green chair to match his skin.

I sit down next to Aster on the sofa and turn back to the television feeling curiosity about the huge screen in front of me prick at the edge of my senses.

A closer inspection reveals that the man is not in fact green but has dark green star tattoos, green eye-shadow, green lipstick and green hair. As we watch, he introduces himself as Caesar Flickerman. Then it cuts to the reapings and the words "District one" appear on the screen.

"Kathleen Heithrow!"

A fourteen-year-old girl is called but as she makes her way slowly up to the stage, her head bowed and tears flowing down her cheeks, several eighteen-year-old girls shout, "I volunteer!"

Kathleen stops in relief and makes her way back to her spot in the fourteen-year-old's section.

Their escort points to one of the girls who called out and says, "You were first, dear, come on up!"

A girl with dark hair and eyes moves towards the stage; her eyes glint maliciously and she grins wickedly. The cameras flick to the faces of the girls who were denied entrance to the Hunger Games and disappointment is drawn all over their faces.

Her name is Millicent Fabian.

Another girl is called but is saved as another eighteen-year-old volunteers and makes her way to the stage. Somehow, she manages to look even more menacing than Millicent. Her blonde hair falls around her face and waves in the breeze with an air of almost cruel beauty. Her blue eyes sparkle with excitement and I shudder as I picture her eyes, blazing with enthusiasm as she swings an axe at a defenceless little boy. Her name is Holly Gaven.

Two boys volunteer. One is eighteen and one is seventeen. They are young, broad and strong looking as they stride through the crowd up onto the stage and introduce themselves as "Richard Jewjup" and "Johnny Valent" in low, confident voices.

District two's tributes are huge and dangerous looking, just like in District one.

District three has no volunteers and all of the tributes are under the age of fourteen. Before I can stop it, my heart goes out to my opponents.

District four produce large tributes (mainly volunteers) but none really stick out as a huge threat.

Aside from that, no others really stand out except for a twelve-year-old girl from Six "Henrietta Playbeck" and a thirteen year old boy from Seven "Derek Greenpath". Both had older siblings that were too old to volunteer and they had to watch on as their beloved brother or sister was reaped. The only other one that stuck in my head was a sixteen year old boy from Eight. His name was "Napier Goonshen". His eyes looked about ready to pop out of his head as they rolled about not focusing on anything. He looked like he was ready to throw an axe at anyone who approached him.

I jump as a large 'District Twelve" flashes up on the screen. I don't know if I want to see myself being reaped over again and most of all, I don't want to see my father getting shot again.

Austen, on my other side, feels me trembling and presses his arm close to mine to stop it from shaking. He leans over and whispers in my ear, "It's ok, Maysilee."

I can look after myself thanks. Besides, you don't have to watch your father get shot!

But instead I just nod.

I take a deep breath.

So we watch our reaping again until it is my turn. My name is called and my father yells out, insulting the Peace Keepers. I vaguely wonder if he has told the whole District about what really happened to my mother. I flinch as the gunshot that wounded my father sounds from the television.

I see myself, rushing to his side, tearing my dress to stop the bleeding, tears pouring down my face and smudging my make-up; I look like a wreck. And then the screen goes black but no one moves. We are all still sitting, staring at the screen, shock pulsing through us at having seen ourselves being reaped on television.

Twinkle's loud snort of alarm as his head flops onto his chest and he wakes up breaks the silence.

"So, everyone, who stood out to you?" He asks as if he'd been awake the whole time instead of snoring away in the corner.

I'm too drained to respond but Haymitch points out a few that I had noticed and I nod my agreement so that I don't have to speak. If I speak, my voice might shake from fatigue and stress. That would make me look weak.

Twinkle explains what a career pack is. "They're usually made up of the volunteer tributes from District one, two and four. They're all sickos and they make a pact before the games. It's hard to get in with them but if you make it in, you're safe until there are only the careers and a few others left."

I blink in surprise.

"Do District twelve tributes ever join the career pack?" Aster asks, the corners of her mouth sloped down in an expression of disgust.

"No." Twinkle says tiredly. And that's all he says.

There's a long, loud silence until finally, "Well, I'm off to bed! G'night everyone!" Haymitch stands up and saunters out of the room.

I sit still for a moment or two and then I follow him out of the door and down the hall to my room. I hear the others behind me so I stop in front of my door and turn to face them. Haymitch is already inside his own bedroom.

"Goodnight." Austen says quietly and opens his own door.

"Night." I reply and turn to Aster. "How are you feeling?"

I realise I know her from school and I feel a jolt when I realise in a few days we might be trying to kill each other.

"Same as everyone else here." She says simply. "Except for you, of course."

"Except for me?"

"You can win this. And you know you can. You're fearless."

"I'm not fearle –"

"Haymitch isn't supposed to make it out. Austen isn't supposed to make it out. And –" She takes a deep breath. "I'm not supposed to make it out. It's you. It's always been you. You're the one who will go home."

I listen in stunned silence. What is she talking about? I'm tiny compared to the careers. She seems to take my shocked silence as an agreement so she squeezes my arm gently and turns away. "Goodnight Maysilee."

Author's Note

Hey everyone!

Sorry this chapter was sooooo short and... a little depressing and... deep... but I tried to add some Haymitch humour in there too! :(

So… tell me… are you attached to Aster yet? I am! And we're going to have to kill her off! :( Sad face! Mmmm… soooooo… can you guys please tell me what you think of the characters and you know just… the chapter all together? I'd love some constructive criticism too if you wouldn't mind. Reviews seriously make my day and Jasmine's day as well!

Anyway, thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

Gemma (GoldenDiva)