Author's Note: Written for Starvation Forum's Monthly Prompt; February is "envy." Warning: kind of strange. Ah, well.

It started when I was around twelve, when I started noticing the little things.

The victors. How mysterious they were! So strong and vibrant, and yet elusive, fragile. Some would fall to pieces—those I didn't admire. The ones that stayed strong after their victories, those who thrived. And I don't mean the Careers—every Capitolite loves those.

And then I found myself lying awake at night, wondering how they got to be so.

I didn't just admire the victors, I envied them. I wanted to be in their position, no matter what it took. Of course, this led to a strange yearning to participate in the Hunger Games.

My family was appalled, of course. They took me to a psychiatrist, which didn't help. "Only the brutish Districters want to be in the Hunger Games!" he would snap. "Lavinia, you are a Capitolite! You are above them!"

It was there, in the doctor's waiting room, that I met Andronicus. He was a few years older than me, but as soon as we saw each other, I knew we were destined to be together. We had like minds. Everyone else thought him quite radical and probably insane, but I couldn't get enough of him.

"Look at them, Lavi," he said to me one day while we were watching the Games in the waiting room. The tributes were all running towards the Cornucopia, madly trying to escape the man-eating horse mutts converging on them from all sides. "Even more desperate than us."

"I want to be them, Andry," I whimpered, burying my face in his soft, dark hair. "I want to be there in the arena so badly."

He thought for a moment. "But isn't this just another arena? The Capitol, I mean?"

I nodded fervently. "Let's be Victors."

"No, no, Lavi." A wild look grew in his eyes, and his soft whisper grew harsher. "Let's die. Together. That way-"

I was pulled away before I could hear. Into the doctor's office, for another lecture on the superiority of the Capitol. "Lavinia, how many times do I have to tell you? They are worth nothing to you. Even the Avox are better off."

"I don't want to be better," I murmured. "I want to be them. They—and maybe all Districters, I don't know—they have something that we don't. I want that. I envy them."

"You don't know the meaning of envy," he accused. "Now-"

"Well, it works well enough for my purposes!" I growled, springing to my feet. It all happens so quickly, I can barely register it: the picking up of the knife, the aim, the execution, the blood. Fleeing before the hovercraft notices and arrives. I run out of the office, screaming wild things. Andry follows, a dangerous smirk spreading across his face. No one can catch us, not now.

Finally, I am a contending tribute in these twisted Games. I may not end up a Victor, but I know that I will never regret a step I took.

And I don't envy anyone anymore.

And, well, you all know how it ends for poor Lavinia.

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