"To be the figure of the Capitol, but in the darkness, to be the symbol of freedom, its commander..."
Early in the morning, Jacob found himself in an empty room, holding a knife in his hand, practicing throwing it over and over again. Concentrated and determined, he would launch the knife towards an improvised target on the wall, repeating the motion again and again. His face reflected a mixture of intensity and concentration, while the small cuts on his fingers began to stain the blade of the knife with drops of blood.
As he practiced, his mind immersed itself in a sea of thoughts about the upcoming winners' tour. He repeated the plan he had devised for that occasion over and over again. He imagined the possible scenarios, the questions they would ask him, and how he would respond to convey his message of resistance and hope.
He pictured himself standing in front of crowds, his words resonating in the ears of those who longed for change. He visualized the reactions of the citizens, their gaze filled with admiration and hope, as he spoke each word with conviction. He knew this was the moment to convey his approach and where he would deceive everyone, to ignite the flame of rebellion and awaken the consciousness of those who had been oppressed for so long.
As he continued to throw the knife, his focus never wavered. Each time the blade's edge cut his skin, he felt a mixture of pain and satisfaction. He knew that the path to liberation would not be easy or free of sacrifices, but he was willing to give everything for his cause.
In his mind, he repeated over and over again the words he would speak during the tour, perfecting his speech with each rehearsal. His voice resonated in his head, firm and powerful, conveying his message of resistance and calling for action. There was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the determination to do whatever it took to fight for the freedom of his district and all those who had suffered under the Capitol's oppression.
After each knife throw, Jacob took a deep breath, trying to calm the agitation within him. His hands trembled slightly from the effort and the wounds that had opened, but that didn't stop him. He was willing to train tirelessly, to face any obstacle that stood in his way.
With each practice and each thought focused on the winners' tour, Jacob prepared himself for the crucial moment when he would have the opportunity to speak and fight for the freedom of his district. He knew that success was not guaranteed, but his determination burned stronger than ever. He was determined to seize that opportunity to the fullest and leave an indelible mark on the minds and hearts of all who listened to him.
"Ah!" Jacob, with a frustrated shout, threw the knife and paused momentarily.
At that moment, Jacob heard footsteps coming from behind him and he stopped momentarily. At that same moment, his assistant informed him of who was approaching silently.
"When will you leave, Katniss?" Jacob asked.
"When will you stop, Jacob?" Katniss replied, returning the question as she saw her friend's hands bleeding.
Katniss entered Jacob's mansion and was met with the heartbreaking scene of him training once again, his hands stained with blood from the effort. With affection in her eyes, she quickly approached a nearby cabinet and took out a first aid kit to tend to his wounds. She looked at Jacob with concern and scolded him in her voice.
"When were you planning to move on from the past, Jacob?" she reproached, while starting to clean and bandage his injured hands. "This isn't healthy, you're hurting yourself."
Jacob simply smiled, his expression calm and serene. "I'm fine, Katniss. Doing nothing drives me crazy. I need to train, to stay strong."
She frowned, frustrated by his stubbornness. "But, Jacob, you can't keep torturing yourself like this. The games are over, you have a life outside of them."
He held her gaze, his smile gentle but firm. "I know, Katniss. But this is who I am. I can't change that. And I also can't change that I need this to keep myself balanced."
Katniss grew angry, feeling powerless against Jacob's obstinacy. She looked at him intently and told him with determination in her voice, "We're friends, Jacob. And as your friend, I care about you. Stop thinking about what you need and consider what is truly best for you. You can't keep hurting yourself like this."
With those words, Katniss left Jacob alone in the room to reflect on his actions. Jacob watched her go, feeling a mix of emotions inside him. He knew Katniss was partly right, but he also knew that receiving help from her to overcome his training obsession wouldn't do him much good. It was his way of dealing with the past and his own future concerns.
He stayed there, looking at his bandaged hands, and reflected on Katniss' words. Perhaps he needed to find a balance, a middle ground between his need for training and his emotional well-being. He had to learn to take care of himself and allow others to worry about him. However, he also knew that his path was solitary, and only he could deal with his own inner demons.
Jacob promised himself that he would try to find a way to stay strong without hurting himself physically or emotionally. He couldn't afford to lose control, not when so much was at stake. But he knew the path would be difficult and require constant effort.
But now that he had reached a place he had never imagined reaching, he wanted to do things right, so he walked towards the shower to clean himself.
...
The meeting place was a large underground room, dimly but strategically lit to maintain discretion. The raw stone walls, unadorned, reflected the seriousness and urgency of the moment. Long tables were arranged in a semicircle, surrounded by chairs eagerly awaiting their occupants.
Before Jacob's arrival, the room was filled with people. Men and women of different ages and backgrounds, dressed in simple and discreet clothing, had gathered in this secret location. The number was significant, showing the reach of the gathering and the growing interest in Jacob's proposal.
As the minutes passed, the atmosphere became increasingly tense. Conversations were whispered, gestures cautious, as everyone understood the importance of keeping their involvement a secret. Faces reflected a mix of anticipation, uncertainty, and hope.
The people gathered came from different districts, each with their own stories of oppression and suffering under the yoke of the Capitol. Some bore visible scars from past games, painful reminders of the cruelty of the system. Others carried the burden of lost families, loved ones taken away by the Capitol's machinery.
As the appointed hour approached, the murmurs gradually faded, leaving a charged silence in the air. All eyes turned to the entrance, anticipating the arrival of Jacob, the leader in whom they had placed their hopes.
The room was filled with committed individuals, ready to fight for change, but there were also those who remained skeptical, with doubts and insecurities about the path Jacob proposed. These individuals stayed silent, observing attentively and seeking answers in the words and actions of the young leader.
In that instant, when gazes met and hearts beat with uncertainty, Jacob entered the room. His imposing presence and determined gaze caused a murmur of anticipation and contained excitement. All eyes were on him, waiting for his words, seeking the guidance and inspiration they longed for.
At that moment, the fate of those gathered in that room was about to change. Jacob would be the beacon that would guide them towards an uncertain but full of possibilities future. And as he took center stage, the silence grew deeper, hopes and fears intertwined in a cautious dance.