Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games Trilogy or the Mary Sue; I simply own my Alexia Monroe and any characters I made up. This is for Prophe's Mary Sue contest at hungergamestrilogy.com.

A/N: Yes, she's supposed to be a Mary Sue. That's the point. Review, flame, doesn't matter, have fun reading it. Hell of a lotta fun to write, I'll tell you that.

. . .

Golden Bullet

Chapter One

. . .

No matter how humid the air was, Alexia Monroe's lustrous blond waves never grew frizzy. Today she wore it with a half-braid falling down her back, interwoven with strands of dark violet and gold. Her blue eyes were lighter today, having changed because of the mood of the sun. As she walked forward towards the roped-off area for fifteen-year-olds in the Square, Alexia's beautiful, knee-length dress shimmered gold and white. Usually, Alexia wasn't this dressed up—her hair was not often braided, because it had natural beauty, and she didn't need fancy dresses to show off her gorgeous figure—but today was important. Today was the day of the reaping.

"Hey," whispered Kim—or to Alexia, Boyfriend Number Zero-Seven—gripping Alexia's slim shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," she replied brightly, her dazzling eyes staring so intensely at Kim that he felt as if she were staring into his heart, nay, his soul.

Smiling with relief, Kim said, "Good, good. I don't want you to be scared, Al. I know you put in tesserae for your little brother and sister, mother, and the starving children down your street."

Batting her eyelashes, she pecked him on the cheek and said, "That's so kind of you, honey. But I'm fine. I only hope you're all right." Kim nodded and was about to say something, but a friend of his grabbed his arm and began to talk to him in a frightened tone.

Eyes darting from person to person, Alexia caught a glimpse of her brother, Eric, gripping the hand of his twin sister, Lyndi. Their faces reflected the other's: pale, scared. They'd been through one reaping before, but the first-time worry was still there. What reaping wouldn't cause worry?

Except for Alexia, of course. She feared nothing. This reaping filled her with anxiety, yes, but only because she couldn't bear to see anyone from her lovely District Ten be pulled into a manslaughter. There was a loud noise at one side of the square, and she looked up to see the district's mayor tapping at the microphone.

"Hello," said the mayor. "And welcome to the reaping!" There were groans all around, along with whimpers and some applause from those too out of it to care. But Alexia knew that this was wrong. The Capitol forcing kids to fight each other and kill each other the way it did. Alexia knew she had to put a stop to it, but what was she, a perfect girl from District Ten, against the nation of Panem, the terrible place risen from the ashes of North America, run by President Snow? Then the mayor began to speak, telling the tale of how Panem came to be.

Then the district's escort trotted into view, taking the place of the mayor at the microphone. "Welcome to the annual reaping!" Lefia Cricket squeaked. "I love the reaping, don't you all? It's like the prequel to the story that the Games tells!" Alexia took note of how Lefia didn't notice that no one else smiled at the poor attempt at lightness. Nothing could make this day light, although Alexia was not as afraid about it as others were. She continued with, "Let's get this over with, shall we?" and reached into the girls' reaping bowl.

As Lefia read the name, Alexia's breath caught in her throat. "Yolanda Harris," she announced. "Please come to the stage." Alexia knew this girl; she was her neighbor, a weak girl a year older than her who had never had enough to eat, despite the fact that this district was better off than some others—Alexia knew about the wealth of other districts because at night, she would sneak into the mayor's home, using the key she'd blacksmithed herself, and check his files, then take money and deliver it to some of the poorest children—and she couldn't bear to see this girl walk into death.

After Yolanda Harris was introduced, Lefia asked lightly, "Are there any volunteers?"

Without hesitation, Alexia said boldly, "I volunteer in place of Yolanda!" She made her way to the stage, through the hands of all the friends that didn't want her to go, and gave Yolanda a little shove, saying softly, "Go ahead, get off the stage." Then, to the camera crews more than anyone, because everyone in her district knew her and couldn't help adoring her, she proclaimed, "My name is Alexia Digoria Monroe. I'm fifteen years old."

"Wonderful!" gushed Lefia, clapping her hands together. "A volunteer! We haven't had one for so long! At least a decade!" She dusted off her electric-blue dress and said, "Without further ado…our boy tribute!" She pulled a slip of paper from the boys' glass bowl and stated, "Kim Rueger!"

Alexia stared at Boyfriend Zero-Seven as he shuffled forward. How could this have happened? She didn't want to fight to the death with one of her boyfriends. This would be awful. She shut her eyes for a moment, a monumental decision taking place in her mind. Alexia would not fight in these Games.

Soon, the mayor had read the Treaty of Treason, and Alexia shook hands with Kim. He said, "I'll protect you in any way I can, and when it's just you and me left, I'll kill myself," in a hushed voice that only she could hear with, and she would not have caught his words if her hearing hadn't been as super-sensitive as it was.

Then, the Peacekeepers grabbed them from the stage and whisked them away into the Justice Building. Alexia plopped herself down on the velvety sofa and waited for her first guest. After a few minutes, still no one had come. She stood up, slightly annoyed, and opened the door. A flustered Peacekeeper said, "Too many people have come to visit you, and we're trying to calm them down."

Alexia nodded and said, "I can help with that. Let them all in, sir."

"Of course, Miss," he responded quickly. "I'll go alert them that they may." She smiled authoratively and sat down again. Just a minute later, the room was flooded with family, friends, some strangers, and even a few of the cows she tended to at the farms when she wasn't in school, tutoring, taking care of her family, or helping others cope with whatever problems they had.

"Hello, everyone," called Alexia. Eric and Lyndi made their way towards her, their identical brown eyes bright with tears.

"Don't die," Lyndi said. "Please, you have to come back, Lyxi." She used her old nickname for her sister, the name she'd used before she could speak properly.

"Promise you'll live, Alex?" asked Eric plainly, gripping her hand.

"Of course I'll live," she replied easily, hugging them both. "I'll come back, don't you worry." The remainder of the hour was filled with hugs, tears, and reassurances to everyone that came near. Finally, the Peacekeeper came in and ushered everyone out.

"Time to go?" Alexia asked the Peacekeeper. He bobbed his head up and down, and she offered him her hand, which he took and then proceeded to lead her out of the Justice Building to the train to the Capitol.

After the initial shock of everything—going to the Capitol, being a contestant in the Games—Alexia was prepared. She spent as much time as she could with Kim, despite what her mentor, Gerby, told them. She wanted to remain friends with him, stay as close to him as possible. She would not kill him. Right before their chariot ride, dressed in the gleaming cowfur she and Kim wore—on Alexia, cowfur looked like gold, while on Kim, it looked muddy and dull—she told him, "This is only what we make of it; if we try, we will succeed." The crowd loved them, especially Alexia.

Each day during the training sessions, Alexia excelled in each thing she tried. Be it making a fire, swinging a flail, or catching another tribute in a camouflaged net, she could do it and better. At lunch, she sat with the Career Tributes and the table was filled with laughter and joy.

Then came the day that the tributes showed off what they could do to the Gamemakers. Alexia smiled encouragingly at everyone who went ahead of her, and she gave Kim a hug before he was called in. Making small talk with the tributes from 11 and 12, she was able to pass by the time quickly until her turn came. "Good luck!" said the girl from 12. "If I don't get a good score, I'm out of hope, and I know I won't, so I won't win." She seemed to be rushing over her words, but Alexia was used to that—a lot of people had trouble talking to her because they were so entranced in her beauty. "So…so you please, get good score? I want you to win, if, uh, if I don't."

Smiling graciously, Alexia said, "I'll try," and swept out of the room.

The Gamemakers had all been drinking, but as soon as she came in, they set down their bottles and pipes and gave her their complete attention. She flashed them a dazzling white grin, ready to begin. The head Gamemaker said immediately after that, "Alexia Monroe, thank you. You are dismissed." Confused, Alexia curtsied and hurried from the arena.

That night, the District Ten group gathered around the television to see the training scores. Kim received a six, and Alexia kissed him on the nose. "Good job," she said. Then she squealed. "I got an eight!"

"That's no eight," gasped Lefia, her jeweled eyes wide. "That's an infinity sign!"

"Yay!" Alexia said, clapping her hands. "This is great!" After a round of congratulations and amazement from her group, she and Kim walked hand-in-hand to her bedroom. He followed her in and lay down on the bed, patting the spot beside him.

Kim said, his voice low, "Alexia…I'm afraid that I might die, despite what I told you. I mean, I'll try to protect you all I can, but…I don't know…and…I was wondering…." She sat next to him, her blue eyes darkening now that the sun was down outside. He stopped speaking abruptly, pressing his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around him, and for a while, they just made out. Kim loved how soft Alexia's full, pink lips were against his.

The next day, the interviews took place. Alexia's was filled with ease. She wore a strapless translucent pink dress that didn't even reach her knees and white sandals. Her hair fell around her shoulders, bouncing with each step she took. Caesar Flickerman's bright yellow eyelids fluttered repeatedly when she walked onto the stage. "Hello, Nurse!" he muttered to himself. Louder, he said, "Hello, Alexia!"

"Hi, Caesar, Capitol, Panem," she said, waving slightly and sitting down beside Caesar on the couch. They cheered enthusiastically.

"So, Alexia," he said, "You got an infinity sign as your score—and the scores are supposed to be one through twelve. That is simply amazing!"

"Thank you," replied Alexia, her hand waving in the air as if to push away the compliment. "It was nothing, though, really. Anyone could do it." The crowd whooped and whistled. "But if I may say something?" At these words, the Capitol audience was completely silent as they waited for her to continue. "I think it's wrong, all of this." Her words were quiet. "I volunteered for Yolanda because she's so weak, so poor. And I wanted to be in the Games." There was a collective gasp—no one from Ten often wanted to be in the Games.

"But why?" Caesar demanded gently, putting a hand lightly on her knee. "The Games are wonderful, yes—they can all agree with me, right?—but there haven't been winners from Ten for a long time." He grinned then. "You'll be that first winner, huh?"

"Something like that," Alexia agreed, nodding. As she nodded, her glittering hair tumbled over her shoulders. She gave a soft smile, and its radiance blinded the first row of the audience. "Oh, no!" she cried in realization at what she had done. "My pearly whites are a curse!" Alexia hurried off the stage to the blinded people, and as she walked passed them, there were cries of "I can see again!" After everyone's sight was fixed, Alexia fluidly ran to the stage, her eyes light and carefree.

The buzzer went off, signaling the end of Alexia's three minutes, but the audience was bursting out, "A-lex-i-a! A-lex-i-a!" and Caesar simply couldn't turn down her angelic face as she asked for more time. The next half hour was filled with laughter, tears, and anger, all of which Alexia made the crowd feel—she pulled off every angle: funny, witty, sexy, sullen, brave, wistful, lovable. There wasn't one viewer in Panem who didn't want to sponsor her.

Alexia was able to sleep easily that night. When she awoke, her stylist dressed her in a simple white tank top and blue shorts with knee-high black galoshes. She looked down at them, and although they were constrictive, Alexia would be able to run easily in them.

Her stylist handed her a studded dagger. "Whose is this?" asked Alexia, mystified. The gems glinted, throwing off colorful bits of light in the dark catacomb.

"It was Solovet of Regalia's," informed the stylist. "She was born a fighter, died a fighter, and then it was handed to Gregor the Overlander. It has been passed down for generations to the best fighters. It's yours now."

"I can't bring in a weapon, though!" gasped Alexia, holding a hand to her mouth in shock. "It's against the rules!"

"Nonsense!" her stylist exclaimed. "It's your district token, Alexia."

"It's not from my district! And it's a weapon!" she said, standing her ground. Alexia was stubborn and didn't want to bend the rules.

"Oh, oh," chortled her stylist. "You are allowed. It cleared the review board easily when I told them it was for you, Alexia."

She smiled, "Really? Well, if it's okay with the Gamemakers…it must be all right."

"That's the spirit!" said the stylist. She left the room then hurried back. "Here, eat this," said her stylist, handing her a muffin.

"Thanks," said Alexia. "I'm starved." After eating a lot more, Alexia grinned. "I'm ready for this. I think I can win."

"Good luck," her stylist replied, gently smiling. "You may need it."

"I don't think so," Alexia murmured. "I won't need luck to do what I need to." She twisted her hair back into a ponytail and said louder, "Let the Games begin." Trotting over to a metal plate, Alexia held her head high and straightened her shoulders.

Then she was rising upward, and she could see what kind of arena they were in. Her eyes went wide, and the voice of Claudius Templesmith bellowed, "Let the 75th Hunger Games Begin!"