He was dead. I had seen it on the mandatory live broadcast just days before. Katniss Everdeen, with bow and arrows ready, walked confidently down the city circle, to come to a sudden stop at where he stood. She aimed her bow at him, aimed straight at his heart. She hesitated just a moment, the wind letting the bow falter a bit, then she pulled through, setting the arrow soaring straight at his chest. That was the point when I had looked away. I heard cheering and the sound of the rebel president saying something that I hadn't cared about.

The rebels who had locked me in my bedroom had likely forgotten that I'd existed. I hadn't broke down like I thought I would at his death and my imprisonment, though. I had seen death before, now. I had already been there, watching people die just feet away from me, incapable of helping any of them. I hadn't been shaken by this. I had already been shattered into a million tiny pieces, all too small to break. Once you have felt a certain amount of pain, it stops hurting. I wondered whether Katniss herself had met this point. I know that she has been through enough to have.

Those bombs nearly killed me. I know for a fact that they killed others. I watched it. I heard their screams. I saw their faces. I also knew that he must have been the one to set those bombs off. I had heard him talking to another one of his officials about something similar, while I was supposed to be asleep. The president had done it. My grandfather. Now, the person who had been my idol was the one to execute him. I wasn't sure if I idolized her anymore. Her life was so much more than I had seen through those screens when I was eleven and twelve. So much more than the sappy love story that the others in the Capitol knew. I knew now that those deaths in the Games weren't just entertainment, that these people weren't just playthings. That death actually happens in front of you. How it feels to witness it. How it must feel to inflict it. I held my red hair gingerly, and slowly braided it down my back. Whether I knew who Katniss really was or not, nobody could stop me from using her symbol. He was gone, after all.

I had been locked there, in the bedroom that was for me in my grandfather's mansion, for days. It had become harder and harder to stop the bad thoughts from clouding in my head. There wasn't much to do to get my mind off of my nightmares in the mornings. Repeatedly braiding and braiding my hair, and watching television if it wasn't showing something too distressing. Anything to get my mind off of the terrors. All of this was better than when I attempted to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, the bombs went off again. I had no idea how I had survived. I could only recall vivid moments, because I had likely been floating in and out of consciousness. I was stuck, trapped in my own home with only my broken mind, knowing that I was alone in the world at thirteen.

I was jolted into the real world one day, when the television sowed a mandatory viewing. There was the former president of the rebels, and the now interim president of Panem. She was a woman with grey eyes, and blonde hair that looked uniform as if it were a wig. "Hello, residents of Panem! This is your temporary president, and I have an announcement for you! I am aware that many of you in the districts have a sort of thirst for revenge on the Capitol. I am here today with a solution to your bloodlust. I have held a vote with the surviving victors, Peeta Mellark, Annie Cresta, Enobaria, Beetee, Haymitch Abernathy, Johanna Mason, and Katniss Everdeen. The vote carried the idea that we will be holding a symbolic 76th Hunger Games. But this year, we will not reap from the districts. Our tributes will be children from the Capitol."

It took my brain a moment to register the words. They were going to give us a taste of my grandfather's medicine. A Hunger Games. With Capitol children. That meant me. "We have already reaped our tributes. You will be brought to the training center immediately after we read the names. Now, our former district 12 escort will tell you the tributes."

Then, Effie Trinket, sporting a bright pink wig, and a clearly false smile across her face, was on the screen. "Happy...Hunger Games," she said, swallowing. "And, may the odds be ever in your favor." She sniffed. "As usual, ladies first." She pulled out a list of names, and I sat on my bed hoping that I wouldn't recognize any of them. I did. Evadne Flickerman. I guess that Effie wouldn't be the only one having trouble doing her job. Godiva Crane. Daughter of the gamemaker Seneca Crane. I waited. There was someone named Kynthia and another called Atala. "Finally, last, but certainly not least, we have Kalliope Snow." I had been so close. So close to having been forgotten by the world. Locked in this room for eternity, never being hurt again. I would rather have spent the rest of my life there. But now the rest of my life wasn't going to be very long at all.

Thank you for deciding to read this fanfic! I haven't been very active lately, but it's summer now, and I'm out of school, so you should expect updates every other day, if not every day! If you have any ideas, please dm me them, because I'd love to know your opinion. Happy first day of summer!