Amethyst Greene

The stage was glistening with the most beautiful jewels in all of the district. Striking red rubies and deep blue sapphires filled my vision. I see radiant jewels like these everyday, my parents work as jewelers like nearly everyone else in District 1, but these jewels just seem to be intrinsically better. The jewels used to remind me that I could be stuck here for the rest of my life, but I can now envision them at my victory tour.

"The female tribute is Jade Gillies" crooned the sickeningly saccharine voice of our escort. Instead of focusing on the admittedly stupid decision I was about make, I focused intently on the proceedings of the reaping. The girl selected was a Career, trained in the art of killing practically since birth. There were going to be at least 6 others just as deadly, for sure. It didn't matter at the moment. All that mattered was the crowd watching, and the coverage this would get in the Capitol.

It all happened in an instant. All my inhibitions, my fears, my common sense, went out the window. I was only 13, I could have waited, but there was a certain allure to being one of the youngest victors. I probably should have waited.

My hand shot up, and I screamed "I volunteer as the female tribute". As I walked up the stairs, there was a collective gasp from the crowd. I tried to look brave and bold for the cameras of the Capitol.

"What is your name, sweetie" the escort asked, partly confused, partly amused.

I tell her, in as bold a voice as I can muster, "My name is Amethyst Greene, but all you need to know is that I'll be your next Victor"

The games didn't start out like they normally do. Instead we started in a empty room. There was no Cornucopia, no platform to stand on. There was only me. There was a hatch at the top, to high for anyone to possibly reach, and a locked door in the middle. The Career pack must have been in an uproar at the change from the usual outdoor arena, and most of the other kids were probably praying there wasn't any surprises too deadly on the other side of the door

There was the usual countdown, but I didn't pay any attention. I was too busy staring intently at the door. The countdown ended. The door unlocked, and I opened it. There was another tribute.

I was lucky enough to have the boy from District 3. That didn't stop me from being scared out of my wits, but I wouldn't let him see it. He didn't deserve that. I knew he was probably the most intelligent of any tribute in these games, but he wouldn't be strong enough to kill me, physically or emotionally. At least that's what I hoped for.

He didn't seem to want to process my presence, so instead searching the room. I could've charged him then and there. It probably would have been easy. Instead I looked around the room. There was a intercom at the top, and one bag of supplies in the middle. I started looking around with him, not wanting to face what I knew we both would have to do.

"Please sit down in a seat for the time being while I explain the rules." blared out an automated voice. We both snapped out of our disorientation of figuring out where we were and what shot we had of living, and shot our attention to an intercom on the ceiling we failed to notice, hoping for answers.

We were on the train heading to the Capitol. The male tribute was an 18 year old, a shoo-in to win. My mentor only really focused on him. Neither of them said much to me or about me. They both acknowledged that I was going to die, but want to say anything to me.

As much I thought I would hate my escort, she is the only polite one on this train. While the boys were going on about their fighting strategies, she would help me get the image of being a sweet innocent little girl. Before I would have balked at the idea of playing up my innocence, but I was too desperate to get an edge. Fame wasn't the mission anymore, I just had to make it through alive.

Late that night, we sat down and ate a meal together. She asked me the question that we had both danced around this entire time.

"Why did you volunteer?" she asked. I wanted to run and hide, as if I run away from my stupid decisions. I didn't think about any of this up until now, but I knew now that I had little choice. I didn't know why I volunteered anymore. I didn't say anything. I didn't cry or have a heartfelt speech. I just walked out. My motives that once seemed clear as crystal turned into a mess of rash decisions and mistakes. I didn't care though. I already made my choice, and the there was no going back now.

"Each of you have a hatch in the top of your room that leads out, but it is about 5 times your heights. The way out is simple enough, the last person standing in this mini-arena will then be sent to a different room with another tribute, your opponent being decided by the citizens of the Capitol. These battles will continue until one person remains. The hatches in your rooms have been lowered already, but he doors to your individual rooms have been locked. May the odds be ever in your favor." The voice explained.

There was no immediate battle between me and the boy from District 3, no scramble to beat each other to death or grab the small cans of food in the bag of supplies. In spite of our desperation, neither of us were willing to rush into the center, to start the dreaded battle. For what seemed like decades we stared intently at each other, trying to see how dangerous the other was. We already knew one another well from the training arena, but we never thought about how a battle between the two would play out. It would have been pointless anyways. I was a scrawny thirteen year old, and he was a weak twelve year old. Any battle we could have had would have been tantamount to a minor cat-fight.

Breaking the silence, the boy said bluntly "Want to just wait here for one of us to die. Neither of us have a chance against some of the bigger tributes. Trying to win would just be pointless at this point."

The words hit me like a dagger. I was a fool for ever volunteering. I wanted to be the first thirteen year old victor. In the moment I volunteered, all I cared about was becoming famous. I was such a over-confident prick. I deserve this.

There was no winning in any case. I would die here at thirteen, and even if I decided to wait until I was seventeen, no one would remember my victory. I would be just another Career. I asked myself how could I possibly be so stupid and reckless. The boy was right, there was no point anymore. I wasn't going to last.

I wasn't ready to die just yet, and I couldn't gather up the strength to kill the boy, physically or emotionally. We waited.

I didn't cry.

I wouldn't cry.

I couldn't cry.

I just told myself "I did this to myself, and it's time to face the consequences."