PROLOGUE
They told me to write is all down. They said it might help. I'm not sure I believe them, but here It goes
I've known for years that the cruelty of the Capitol doesn't end when you get back home. Even though you've won the Games, you're constantly reminded of the hell you've just been through. First off, there's the interview, where you're bombarded with questions and expected to regurgitate events you never want to speak of again. Then we come to the Victory Tour. It's an enduring trip around the Districts of Panem, which time you constantly feel the darkening stares of the friends and relations of people you killed or simply could not save. Your mentor, escort and stylists present you as some kind of hero, but you're not. Because of you, there's another mother without a child. Because of you, another family has been torn apart.
The worst part is what they do to you if you mess up during the Games. My little stunt with the Arena's force field resulted in the Capitol murdering those close to me and forcing me to stay on to mentor District 12's tributes year after year. I did this for 25 horrific years until the Capitol was overthrown by the Mockingjay.
I knew Katniss was one to take risks the minute I heard what she'd done at the Reaping. Of course, I was too drunk to remember, so that ditzy Capitol woman, Effie Trinket, had taken the liberty of informing me of Katniss' volunteering in the place of her sister. Then there was her shooting that arrow at the Gamemakers during her individual training session. The final straw for her had been when she pulled out those berries in the Arena and showed the Capitol up.
I knew there would be repercussions. Serious repercussions.
But not like this.