My name is Ember. I was a tribute in the seventy third games. I was the little girl from district nine, the one who you didn't sponsor. The one who you didn't think would make it, the one who got a training score of three. I was the one you thought would die in the bloodbath, the one you thought would die off instantly. Then I surprised you, I know I did, when I made to the final eight. That's when you decided that I showed some promise, and decided to sponsor me. That's when you realized that I was a real competitor in these games. I surprised you again, when I made it to the final three. And then the tribute from four killed her ally, and it was just me and her. We fought for a long time, I hope you enjoyed watching us suffer. The last two competitors of the Hunger Games. Fighting to the death. And then back in your homes, you cheered at your television screens as one girl fell to the ground, impaled on her own sword. The cannon went off, and the games were over. Everyone watched the final fight, over and over and over. You cheered for the victor every time. You knew the ending: two girls, one a victor, and one defeated.

My name was Ember. I was a tribute I the seventy third games. I was a tribute, but never a victor. I was the girl in the final fight, but not the one you cheered for. I was the girl from district nine, the girl who was defeated.