My escort is irritated that I slept in, though I can’t see why when the interview is in the evening. Of course, it is because my prep team have to fix me up again.

They start right after breakfast, and inform me I will not be having lunch today in order for them to carry out the preparations. Not surprisingly, the dress is too mature for me again. This time, it is an extremely short, pale blue dress with no sleeves. It is almost too tight for me, and I have to hold my breath while the prep team does up the buttons in the back.

All too soon, the interview time comes. I wish, not for the first time, that the Capitol didn’t mostly do live shows. Then it could be fixed if I mess up.

Fortunately, there is no audience. This relaxes me a little. I am taken into a little sitting room where there is a seat for me and a seat for Caesar Flickerman. There are vases of red, pink and white roses on any table. The smell is too strong, and it fills the room as if someone sprayed perfume in my face.

When I come into the room, Caesar pats my shoulder, clearly I am too young to be considered an equal and given a hug, and I sit down.

“Congratulations, Rue. How are you faring?” he asks.

“Much better,” I say, referring to the fact that I endured several days of youths murdering each other, then I realise that he is talking about the Tracker Jacker incident. The response works either way.

“Great. Let’s get started.”

Someone counts backwards and just like that, we’re being broadcast to the whole country. My mother will be watching, and so will Seeder, though she is watching from across the room rather than on television. Like the whole of District 11 will be.

That thought scares me, so I push it out of my mind.

Caesar starts like he usually does, joking about and things like that. He asks me what happened when I was cut off. I choose my words carefully, trying not to lie without really telling the truth.

“I don’t know where the Tracker Jacker sting came from, but it was only one and small enough that I didn’t hallucinate.” An idea comes to me. Everyone thinks I can’t do anything- if I were killed by the Capitol’s orders, they could easily make it look like an accident. However, if I show them that I’m not the sweet little girl they think I am, they might think twice before trying to get rid of me. “I sort of… lashed out… and…”

“And?” Caesar prompts.

“And I stabbed someone…” The words are new on my tongue. They sound strange in that order, in my voice.

Caesar laughs. “I find that difficult to imagine. This person is alright, I presume?”

I am irritated that he would assume that just because it’s me, but nonetheless he is correct.

“Yeah. I just got them in the shoulder.”

He laughs again. It makes me mad.

“Then I rolled up my sleeve, I don’t remember what my intentions were but I think that my Tracker-drunk mind wanted to be the same as Thresh.”

He doesn’t laugh this time. I think I surprised him. No, I know I did. I can see Seeder shake her head, just the tiniest bit out of the corner of my eye, so I stop there.

“Just kidding,” I say. “They drugged me before I did anything that drastic.”

Caesar gives a sigh of relief and moves on.

“How does it feel to be one of the youngest ever to win the Hunger Games?”

Simple enough question. I could go into detail, but I don’t.

“Exciting,” I decide on.

“You had some pretty traumatic experiences out there, what with Katniss and Thresh. How do you feel about them?”

Feelings, feelings. I either have none or everything at the same time.

What would I say to Plough?

“Both of them helped me as they died, but that makes me feel really guilty, like it was my fault. Katniss only went in the first place so her sister wouldn’t have to go because her sister was my age. I’m sure her sister hates me because I could have been the one to die if we had switched roles, then she probably would have won. Thresh could have killed me but he killed himself to save me. I could never do that for someone else. It makes me feel like a bad sort of person.”

“You are a lovely person, don’t forget that!” Caesar encourages me. “Thresh always seemed hostile towards everyone except you, why do you think that is?”

What would I tell Plough? The truth. But what is it?

“He treated me like a sister.” When I say it, I know it’s true. “He trusted me and it was mutual trust. He would have given his life for a sibling. “

He wipes a pretend tear from his eye. “That’s very moving.”

“I haven’t checked this with their families yet, but I’ve told my mentor this. I’m going to send some of my victor’s gifts to Thresh’s and Katniss’s families each year.”

“That’s what I mean, Rue! You can’t possibly be a bad person if you do things like that! You got a sponsor, so someone clearly thought you were worth helping.”

He’s wrong. The tissues and mints were practically a joke.

“One person. No one else thought I would win. Not even Seeder thought it was worth looking for sponsors, so no one would have cared if I hadn’t won.”

Caesar looks me in the eye and puts his hand on my shoulder reassuringly.

“Everyone wanted you to win. Even the other tributes. No one knew if you could pull it off. But you proved to everyone in the country that you could. You are more than just a girl who no one volunteered for. You are the sort of person people become rebels for.”

It was an innocent enough comment, but I wonder if it holds more meaning than he is letting on.

“Is there anything you wish you could change about yourself?” he asks. It is quite random. Most of the questions are in this interview. I think it’s because Caesar – or whoever wrote the outline – assumed that I wouldn’t be mature enough to answer the usual ones. I realise I am fighting my own mini-war against society. I can spark a threat, but I myself am not a threat. What I talked about earlier will hopefully change that.

“I wish I was a funny person.”

He raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“I wish I was the sort of person that people wished was around to liven things up. I wish I could make people laugh and smile with the smallest and simplest of comments.”

“Everyone will want you about to liven things up now, won’t they?” he grins.

I guess so, but not for me. For the thought of a famous person being there.

What claim to fame do I actually have? I managed to stay alive. Millions of people manage to do that every day. Those millions of people don’t get rewarded for it. They get punished with more of their children being taken away.

“What is the first thing you’re going to do when you get home?” Caesar continues.

Have a proper talk with Seeder about how much trouble I’m in. I can’t tell him that, so I tell him what I would tell Plough. “Go to sleep in my own bed. Then I will have a massive group hug with my five brothers and sisters.”

He laughs. “I’m sure they are very proud of you.”

“I suppose,” I shrug.

I doubted that my parents would let them watch the Games. I wasn’t allowed to watch it until I was ten, and even then my mother would make me leave the room if it got too violent. I didn’t really know what to expect when I got reaped. I guess that was good: I wasn’t as terrified as I would have been if I’d known what was coming.

“Last question. Do you have any ideas for what you’re going to use as your talent?”

This one is easy. “Music. I love singing. I’ve always wanted to play an instrument. Maybe we can afford one now.”

“That would be very sweet,” he agrees. “Do you have anything else to say?” he asks.

“No. Thank you for all your support,” I say, perhaps sarcastically, but even I can’t tell now.

Caesar signs off and everyone is laughing and hugging and crying. A silent tear trickles down my cheek. A tear of happiness; I haven’t forgotten what that is yet. It’s over now. I can go home. I have the Victory Tour in a few months, but until then it’s goodbye to the Capitol and my annoying prep team.

I pick up my woven necklace, my token. I don’t remember it being taken away from me. It must have been when I was in the hospital.

My mother puts her arm around my shoulder and gives it a squeeze.

“They put a fold-out bed in your room on the train. I’ll be sharing with you, probably the last time you’ll have to share a room. You can have your own room when we move into the Victor’s Village.”

The thought makes me smile.

I’m going back to District 11.