They told her it was a honor to volunteer. They told her she would be famous, rich beyond her wildest dreams. They said it was easy, and she could do it without trouble. They told her everyone would know her name.

So she did what they told her to. She trained and trained, until she collapsed with exhaustion. Then, she trained more. When the Reaping came along, she held her head high. She dashed forward to volunteer, knocking aside the less worthy. She would win, she would be the Victor. It was, after all, what she deserved.

They told her to be ruthless. They told her killing was expected, even encouraged. They told her to carve swirls and flowers onto her opponents' faces. They told her it was the path to victory. They told her it was the only way.

So she did what they told her. She showed her skill, she commanded her allies to respect her, even fear her. She carved designs into their skin-the weak tributes, the unworthy ones. She laughed at their pain, at their mortality. She was a goddess, and they would treat her as such. She would kill everyone who dared stand in her way.

They told her she was beautiful, and she could be rich. They told her it was a small service for those who done so much for her. They told her if she did this, her life would be that much better. They told her she was special.

So she did what they told her. She flirted with the freaks who paid good money for her. She made comments about how amazing they were, how wonderful. She pretended she loved her job, and she had chosen it herself. She kept it up, for years and years and years. She pretended so much, not just her clients were convinced. She convinced herself.

They told her if she killed the Everdeen girl, she would be even richer. They told her if she won, she would be even more loved. They told her she would win. They told her the others had no chance against her, the strongest of the strong.

So she did what they told her. She went back to the place of nightmares. She trained again, swords and arrows and whips and knives. She fought dummies, shot at targets, hacked the limbs off human silhouettes. She trained until she showed them her skills again, and then she waited. She fought again, as ruthlessly as she had before. She fought until she died.

Looking back on it, they told her a lot of things. Looking back on it, Cashmere knows they were just beautiful lies.

hey guys, long time no see. I'm on vay-cay right now, but this kept poking me in the head. who did you think it was about? in the beginning, i was thinking Glimmer, Clove or Cashmere, then Clove\Cashmere, but then it just became Cashmere, although it kinda works for Enorbiana might notice the way i wrote this is kinda strange, i did it on purpose. so anyways, i have a funny-ish 'shot about KAtniss' daughter asking about love and a more serious thing about Foxface and the boy from ten.

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