Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games.
Sometimes, in my victoral depression, I feel like nobody wants me. But who would want to love a girl with pointy golden fangs instead of regular teeth? I didn't even ask for those fangs.
When a victor wins, they're taken to a secret hospital where they regain some of the pounds they've lost and recuperate from the physical wounds they've received in the arena. Not the mental wounds, though. You never recover from those. I found that out the hard way. When i woke up four days after I won, my teeth had already been filed to a point and inlaid with gold, on President Snow's orders.
I soon found out that victors are routinely sold to wealthy Capitol citizens by President Snow for money. But I was never sold, not even once. I think they were afraid I would rip their throat out instead of kissing them like I was supposed to.
I was grateful to the fangs for that. I was still very popular in the Capitol, though, and I was often asked to stand in President Snow's balcony for the chariot parade. People loved seeing me on their TVs, even if they were scared of me in real life.
Even the people in District 2 were scared of me. Why not be? In less than a month, I had gone from a respectable District 2 tribute wielding deadly throwing knives that kept my hands free of blood to a psychotic murderer who kills with her teeth.
Whenever I walk down the street, people make a wide girth around me. Instead of showing my hurt, I'll flash them a gold-filled grin. They scamper down the street like mice running from a cat.
Without the distractions of being sold, I am one of the best at mentoring. I am always paired with Brutus. We were both vicious enough to handle each other, I guess. But bringing one tribute home was never enough for me.
Every year, on New Year's Eve, I would buy bouquets of Christmas roses and take them down to District 2's graveyard. I would bundle up with thick jackets too, because during the winter it's freezing in District 2.
I would lay a bouquet down by every tribute that I hadn't brought home as a victor, and I would tell them that I was sorry that I couldn't save them. Maybe that's not very Career-like of me, but I get what I want, and I always do what I want, when I want. Nobody stops me, not even Brutus or Lyme. They're scared of me, too. It makes me feel ashamed, having my two mentors from my own games be afraid of me.
So when they call Lyme's name from the reaping bowl for the Quarter Quell, I know what I must do. I step forward and volunteer in her place. After all, no one can beat me. Not those ditzy twins from District 1, Cashmere and Gloss. Not the brainiacs from 3. Not the "smokin' hot" Finnick Odair from District 4. (Note the sarcasm there. His cockiness makes me sick.) Not Johanna Mason from District 7, with all of that bitchin' she does. And definitely not fire bitch and her "lover" from 12, who won just last year.
No one can beat me, not even Brutus himself. Because I am the Capitol's golden girl, and I always get what I want.
