Snow On The Ground, a hunger games fanfic

Snow On The Ground

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, as usual.

We were starving members of the Districts. We were slaves of the Capitol. We were tributes in training, and pawns in the arena. We were Victors, but that is only a lie. And then we were snow on the ground.

We were starving members of the Districts. A shared fate between every District citizen. The only thing we all had in common, we starved. And we allowed it to divide us. Because when we were born, no matter what District we belonged to, be it the richest of the rich or the poorest of the poor, we are born with a loaf of bread. And it was everybody else's job to take our bread from us. And that they did.

We were slaves of the Capitol. We did what they asked, without a moment's hesitation. We obeyed their laws and filled their quotas for our industries. We ratted out one another for the slighest wrong-doing, and we lived in constant fear of the Capitol. And that was all we knew.

We were tributes in training. We were reaped from that glass bowl, year after year. And we allowed ourselves to go. We showed up, without complaint, to our slaughter. Because we were scared of the Capitol, and we obeyed their every word. So, every single year, we sent children to die. We allowed sweet children, only just turned twelve, a meager half the size of the rest of the tributes, we allowed our children to die. Because the Capitol said.

We were pawns in the arena. We were told to kill friends, and supposed foes, with swords and spears and knives. And we were told to makes their deaths painful. And that we did, because we were told it was right. That it was fair. Nothing became of murdering the other children in the arena. But if we didn't, we'd be dead too. Because we feared death greatly, we murdered, and allowed their dying screams to haunt us forever. But eventually, we simply became another piece of the Capitol's lost entertainment, and once we were sent into that arena, despite our fate, we would always be the Capitol's pawns. The Capitol's entertainment.

We were Victors, but that is only a lie. Because to win the Games, you have to be removed from the arena. All of us know how it works, you distance yourself from the final kill, and are taken from the arena. And all of us know that we never really left that arena. And that is why the Hunger Games are so particularly torturous. Because we remain in the arena forever.

And then we were snow on the ground. Because when winter begins, the snow is a magical, wonderful thing. It's cheerful and beautiful, we want to hold it with us forever. Because we are entertained by the beautiful snowflakes falling from the sky. But eventually, the winter gets bleak and dreary, and oh, so cold, and we want nothing more than for it to leave. We no longer want the snow. So it becomes forgotten, lying on the ground, filled with the memories of when it was wanted and loved. And it doesn't know whether it wants that back, or not.