There was a girl. Happy, full of life girl. She didn't have to worry about anything; she slept in a warm bed, never lacked food and always has been loved by her parents. This girl grew up and became a woman and got to work on her dream job. That's when everything began to get complicated. She realized that she had lived all of her life in a place where killing innocent children was the fun of people greedy, dirty and blinded by ambition and power. Then she saw the light at the end of the tunnel, the great escape, the hope to end the genocide acclaimed for her "friends". And when the revolution came, there was no time to escape; she was arrested, left alone in a filthy, dark and cold cell. It is where our story begins.

Darkness. Everything begins in darkness. Since the creation of the universe, through her mother's warm, comfortable, safe womb and ending in death. It's in the dark where the monsters are, the nightmares, your biggest fears. And it's in the darkness that she is now.

Quiet, small and frightened, waiting for the next act. The days pass like a Greek tragedy: slow, dark and in three acts.

The first is the morning, or so she thinks, when they lead her to a white room lit by fluorescent lights, where there's a bathtub with cold water and electric wires waiting for her. Soaking and giving shocks, asking where they are. They. She knew, she had been part of group of people who were behind it all, but when the revolution broke out, there was no time to escape. She was arrested and taken by Peacekeepers to the presence of President Snow. Of course, he offered amnesty if she agreed to deliver the plans of the rebels. And of course she refused. Deep down she knew that even if she said the truth, they would kill her anyway. So what would be the goal of all her effort so far? No. It made no sense to die in vain, without fighting for the cause in which she risked her job, her family, her life. Then it was the moment when she was trapped in the dark.

Cold, it's cold. Back at the cell, she heard the cries at distance while tries, unsuccessfully, to cover her ears drowning out the screams of people she once knew.

Two. This time the room is not so clear, there's only an old lamp in the corner and in the center a frustum made of wood where they bound her by the hands and whipped her. Again, questions that have no answers, only screams of pain when the whip snapped on her back over and over again, until she doesn't resist and collapses during the interrogation. Taken back to her cell by two Peacekeepers, dragging by the arms, she rests on the floor and waits for the third act.

Three. She wakes up by the Chief Peacekeeper screaming and then immediately grabbing her by the arm and throwing her on the bed, which is just a thin mattress on top of a large concrete block. Lying on her hurt back, she lets out a groan of pain from her opens wombs that haven't healed yet. The Peacekeeper opens her legs brutally and places himself between them. In the beginning she struggled, bit, scratched, fought, but over time she became weaker and weaker from lack of food and water, but also the tortures. Soon, she had no strength even to rise from the ground, so she stayed where they throw her. Now, that she has no strength to fight, she just closed her eyes and sang the song that her grandfather used to sing to her as a child.

You do not need to be scared

Just breathe and let the air

Enter your lungs and make

All the monsters gone

Do not you worry little girl

You'll be safe at your home

And if someday I'm gone

Just sing this song and I'll come

And so were the days of Effie Trinket. She lost track of time. How many days had passed? A month? A year? No matter, darkness was her best friend and now she could feel a new friend approaching; death. But still, she never forgot the song her grandfather taught her.

And if someday I'll gone

Just sing this song and I'll come

Here it is, my first Hayffie Fanfiction!

let me explain somethings: first, I don't like the idea of hurting Effie, but it fitted on my story, so, sorry about the little angst; two, english is not my native language, i'm sorry about the grammar mistakes; three, i wrote the song, if there's similarity to another one, is mere coincidence...

reviews?