Why? Why this cruelty?
I played the game by their rules, no matter how hard. Whatever they asked of me, I did it. No questions asked; no choices presented.
They promised us glory. Fame, riches, whatever we wanted. If we won. They promised us safety.
But they lied. Just as they did to so many people, they lied to us. They knew all along. They called us victors. They called us role models. But at the end of the day, we were still just District upstarts. Butcher meat for the block.
I was lucky to escape the Reaping for the Quell. There had only ever been four victors from my District of my gender, and one of them died leaving only me and two others. When I was spared the Quell, I thought I was safe.
I thought, like the coward I was, that I could merely watch a fellow victor, watch a friend, die for sport and that would be that. But it wasn't. It never is.
Then the War came, and the clock was tick-tocking for us victors now. We fell by the hour, sometimes to the rebels, sometimes to the Capitol. But when a gun's in your face, you don't care too much who points it.
They call me a traitor, a rebel in the wrong cause. The Horn of Plenty is now barren and rat-ridden. I did nothing but take no side. I wanted to live, and stay living. But I was unlucky. We were all unlucky.
I played the Hunger Games, and I won. I played the Game of War, and I lost.