Kitty Leek POV
I don't know how I ended up being born in the Capitol. I would have selected Three if I had been consulted. Of course I enjoyed the luxury and comparative freedom, but I couldn't consider myself at home in a place where murder was entertainment. Due to my singular lack of brainlessness, I was placed on the fast track to a high-powered job. Truth be told, I didn't like the life expectancy of politicians, so I chose a less important position. I knew as an escort I would be left alone for the bulk of the year and would not be considered a target. The first opening was for District Nine, the grain District, and I began my work with a minimum of pomp and circumstance.
I didn't feel any guilt due to my work. I did not start nor support the Hunger Games, and they would have gone on whether or not I was there. Nine had no Victors, so I did my best to prepare my Tributes, and I did better than any other escort would have done. It grew wearisome to become a surrogate protector to so many children only to watch them die. Since my college days I'd longed to escape the Capitol, but there was nowhere else to go. It was only after nine years of death that I realized death was the only solution.
My plan would not have worked had I not had a number of advantages. First, the Capitolites were, by and large, vacant. They were easy to trick. The threat came from the skeleton of politicians and schemers that controlled Panem. To escape them, I had to rely on my other advantage: I simply flew beneath the radar. I rarely gave statements, and never of a political nature. I had no real power as an escort and no supporters to rally. I wasn't a threat. I already lived in a secluded area in the Capitol. I merely turned on my stove, draped a towel across it, and left.
Of course, there was a small commotion in the Capitol. Dull old Kitty Leek was more popular in death than she ever was in life. There were glowing eulogies and baroque funerals. I wasn't around to see much of that. The people who so adored me didn't recognize me walking past them in their own fashion and makeup. The Capitol borders were more vigilant, but a rich, vapid Capitol woman looking for the "authentic District experience" could get through with a few illicit jewels. They thought I'd be back in a day, ready to shower off the District filth.
Much as I would have liked to see Three, there was only one place I could go. Even in the Capitol, shadowy rumors of a secret District occasionally surfaced. It wasn't hard to locate, either- it was the only place on a map of Panem that was utterly barren. When I arrived, it was considerably less obliterated. Under the rubble was more rubble roughly shaped into a bunker. A president and loose power structure was in place, but it was clear they needed someone methodical and solid, someone who could get things done. There was a lot to do, and finally they had someone to do it.
Surprise, witches! Kitty lives! Surely you knew she wasn't the type to burn her house down trying to bake a cake.