Never ending, never stopping. The Capitol's will is never failing. Every year, boy and girl are chosen from Districts alike, forced into an arena that can only have one survivor. Thrown inside, the key thrown away, left for dead. Nothing short of murder is appreciated. One lull can throw the audience into uproar. Cannibalism is frowned upon. This is my society, Panem.
And this society has a goddess, a leader which has endless amounts of power and love. The name of my Goddess is Annabelle Snow, and she is the 22nd President of Panem. She is the daughter and brainchild of Adrian Firth Snow, who is currently rotting in an old cemetery on Jacobs Lane.
Everyone loves the Goddess; they praise her, send gifts to her. But I know that behind this ruse lies a wall of fear, a wall of hate, a mass of emotion so powerful nothing can stop it. The rebels of the 75th Hunger Games only slightly tapped into this source of energy.
My name is Alexius Barden. I'm 34, I have no husband, and I'm on my way towards becoming the Head Gamemaker. I am one of the chosen few who are selected to design the arenas in which this tributes kill themselves. But even at my position, my hate for the Goddess is indefinite. My brother has died at her hands.
Nobody thought twice about it. Traffic accidents happen every day, right? But not under the circumstances that Bren was killed under.
I watch the screen in front of me, the scene of Conan Becker's death put on repeat. He is decapitated over and over again, the wash of blood and tissue from his esophagus making the same mark on the ground every time, his yell echoing in my ears. It makes me want to puke.
The cup I am holding is tipped to my lips. Coffee runs like a lava flow down my throat, scalding my nerve endings. But I ignore the pain, now focused on the rainy-day live feed on the screen in front of me.
Cornelius Vilkas is talking to the Goddess. Rain is pouring from the clouds high above their heads, darkening Cornelius' precious velvet jacket. I'm sure he doesn't like it at all.
His lips move with a vitality I've never seen in him before. The Head Gamemaker is obviously nervous, his eyes darting back and forth to see if any random Capitol citizen is watching him and the Goddess. He doesn't seem to see the surveillance camera through which I am staring at him right now.
The Goddess calmly watches him, waiting for him to get to the goddamn point. He's sweating profusely now, getting steadily more and more agitated. Soon enough, her falsetto voice is released into the air.
"Cornelius, you must know I do not have all day to listen to your petty concerns, so if you could please get to the point before I get unnecessarily bored..." She says, eying her fingernails. Cornelius' Adam's apple jumps.
"Yes...Missus Snow..." His hands jitter nervously, and the hair on the back of his neck starts to rise. He discusses the matter of Thor Vang with the Goddess, and the conversation between them begins to bore me. The main event of today is still to come. I know that because I've planned it carefully. Cornelius' hands fly back and forth in extravagant motions, his eyes alive with a mischievous light. And then the Goddess looks towards my eavesdropping camera.
The Goddess grins, but Cornelius pays no attention as she walks towards the camera lens.
"You're spying on me, aren't you, Alexius?" I exit the window and back up from the screen, my eyes wide open.
"Shut up, you bitch!" I say, throwing the keyboard across the room. Now it's time for the main event.
The Goddess is probably spying on me right now as I dig in the drawer, taking out a long piece of coiled rope, which she's probably used on more than one occasion to strangle someone.
The Goddess trusts me at my position, but I know I can't possibly be here forever. I know the history of the Snow family, and it is not a good one.
My plan is coming to fruition.
Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. This time, I will not survive. I will kill myself, and plant that idea in the Goddess' brain, that small thought of doubt...
I will make an impact on the lives of others around me.
The "suicide note" will make me come off as insane to anyone who reads it. Good for them. I tightly knot the noose, stringing it from the overhead ceiling beam. My feet rest firmly on the wooden stool.
"This is for you, my Goddess." I kick the stool out from underneath me, and my neck breaks instantly, killing me, Alexius Barden.
But that seed of doubt has been planted in her mind. And this is only the beginning of the plan. The Capitol will be caught in a mindstorm of trouble in the next few months...
Author's Note: Wrote on a whim after discovering the Hunger Games Fanfiction Awards (or whatever they're called). Please make sure to review and tell me what you thought!