"This is completely your fault!" I hear the man I call "father" yell.
I feel Ebony curl closer into my lap. I can sense my heart breaking as she tries to stifle her sobs. No child should have to deal with this. Then I remember I am barely more than a child myself.
"I'm sorry!" I hear my mother cry out.
The crash of a vase and a scream ring throughout the house. Ebony's sobs start getting louder, but I quietly shush her. I didn't want him to hear. That monster… If he heard either of us his rage would surely be turned onto someone else- me or Ebony. I feel a shudder ripple through my body. No, not again. Never again would that happen.
I wish our walls were thicker. I wish that I lived somewhere far away with a family that was actually functional. I wish for so much. That doesn't mean it will ever happen. I hear my mother moan from the pain of it all. I know he is abusing her this instant. Not just physically, but sexually as well. When this monster flew into his one of his rages, I doubt even the President could end the madness.
I remember when I was little. My mother married him, and he graciously accepted me as if I was his biological daughter. Which, by the way, meant a lot. Here in District One, you never really adopted anyone. It was a disgrace to your bloodline if you did. The man mother married and I would play in the park. We would always laugh and have a wonderful time, while mother sat and watched us. She would laugh… that laugh I had missed so much. Her laugh was a like a million bells tingling in the air.
Soon, we were joined by Ebony. My precious little Ebony. The little sister I always had, and will always, love. I remember thinking about how fast mother and father had a child together. Only when I was older, did I understand what really happened. He got her pregnant, and they had to get married. Otherwise, both of them would be a complete disgrace to their names.
At first, things were perfect. We were one, big happy family. Then he noticed. My step father noticed that my younger sister, Ebony, shared my greens eyes. Eyes that I had gotten from my father. Now, it was a common thing to have green eyes in our district, but mother had blue eyes, as did my step father.
He flew into a rage. He smashed things, he screamed, and he yelled. I remember running and hiding in one of the closets when it first happened. I was only a little girl. I had no idea what was happening. All I picked up were snippets of the conversation. Him calling her a manipulative bitch. Telling her that she lied to him. Neither of us were his child. Threatening to kill all three of us. I slept in the closet that night. I was far too scared to come out.
Then in the morning, I thought it was all just a dream. Father was acting normally and mother looked just as happy as usual. I thought I had just had a bad dream. Then, a few days later, it happened again. And again. And again. Whenever anything in life went wrong, it was automatically mother's fault. She became his punching bag, and his little sex toy.
I remember wondering why we never left. Why would mother stay and suffer through this? It wasn't until a few years later I realized we had no choice. If we left, we would be outcasts. Plus, he would still have all the wealth and power, and would most likely hire someone to kill mother. No matter what we did, we were trapped.
I stared in the mirror at myself. I looked so much like mother. Mother was extremely beautiful as well. We both had blonde hair, and perfect bone structure. The only difference was my eyes. My eyes were my fathers. I still, to this day, don't know what happened to my father. The only memory I have of him is that he loved me. He would read me stories at night, and would always tuck me in. Whenever I asked mother about him, she would just say he was gone and was never coming back.
I liked to think he would show up and save us, but he never would. Children believed in fairy tales, and I was not a child. How could I be a child? I was forced to grow up so fast. I had to protect Ebony from all this since I was eight. Now I'm eighteen, and I'm as much as an adult as any parent in all of Panem!
The screams and moaning stop and I relax. I let go of Ebony and lead her to my bed. We lay down next to each other in my queen sized masterpiece. She usually sleeps in my bed now-a-days. She is too afraid to be alone and I'm too afraid to leave her alone. I would never let what happened to me and my mother happen to her.
Just as I was thinking the very thing, it happened. My mother came running in and shut the door behind her. She moved my vanity table and shoved it against the door. A few seconds later, there was banging. I looked at my mother. She was pale, beaten, and bloody.
"Run!" My mother yells.
I look around. Where were we supposed to run to? Hide in my closet? Jump out a third story window? I shook my head. I accepted my fate. No matter what I did, it was going to happen again. My mother's eyes tear up and she gives me a hug. I push Ebony behind her and we wait. After about fifteen minutes, he breaks down the door.
He looks wild and completely savage. He is grinning maniacally. He takes one look at me and grabs my arm. I follow him, and all I hear are my mother's cries and Ebony's shouts. He shoves me into my parent's bedroom and slams the door behind him. He grunts and shoves me onto the bed. He starts kissing me and I want to die. Whoever said being beautiful was a gift was sadly mistaken…
"Everyone has a price," I tell Mystique. "Now what's yours?"
The eighteen year old girl just glares at me. She is my only real competition for today. After a few nights ago, with my step-father, I have decided to volunteer. I have too. I will always be trapped here. If I win, I can save my mother and my sister. Possibly even find my real father.
"Whether you die or win, I want every single article of clothing you own." Mystique reasons. I smile and nod my head. Mystique is a fashion diva, and I have some of the best clothes in town. We shake hands and spin around. It was time for the Reapings.
I walk to the pen and waited. I would use my beauty to win. My greatest curse would have to be what saved me in the Hunger Games. There is no other way. I will do anything to win. So what that I have never trained a day in my life. I am smart, and beautiful. Living how I have my entire life, I have learned how to act. I practically have won the Hunger Games already.
The Mayor makes his speech and I listen politely. Then the escort takes control of the stage. I search the crowd. I find Ebony standing with mother. They both have no worry in the world. It was my last year. I wouldn't get reaped. And if I did, no doubt a real career would volunteer for me.
They were so wrong.
I watch as my escort's hand dips into the girls' bowl. I close my eyes. Did I really want to do this? What if I did die? I would be leaving the two people I loved most with that monster.
"Silver Norman!"
I open my eyes and I feel the tears starting to pool in them. Was this really a wise decision? I won't be able to take it back. It was final. It would change the course of my life.
A young girl walked to the stage. She stood on the stage, shaking.
"Any volunteers?"
I felt as if the whole world stopped. I wipe the tears from my eyes, and raise my hand.
"I volunteer!"
I hear Ebony's scream. The scream of a child who's heart just broke. I did what I had to do. I start strutting my way to the stage. I have to use my looks to my advantage. It was the only way to win. I could hear Ebony's sobs, and part of me wanted to run to her. Scoop her up in my arms and protect her like I always had.
However, that part couldn't happen. I am a tribute now. A tribute who had to win.
"What's your name, doll?" the escort asks.
"Glimmer Vasser," I speak into the microphone. I give a wink to the camera and try to give my best seductive smile.
Everyone has a price.
Mine is freedom.