I awaken in the hovercraft. All I see is pristine white light, and for a moment, I think I'm dead. But death is too merciful. I feel the harsh straps trapping me on the hospital bed. I hear the soft beeping of medical machines and the hushed whispers of the medics. My room smells of chemicals and disinfectant. Everything surrounding me is clean, meticulously perfect. Capitol standard.

With that thought, I begin to remember who I am. What I am. Katniss Everdeen. The Victor of the 74th Hunger Games. But I'm not a winner. The only winners are those who die painlessly and quickly in the Capitol's artificial, cruel arenas. And I'm not alive. Only existing. But I still remember why I'm here.

Because of Prim.

Yes, I remember. I remember cold nights shivering with Prim in the dark, our stomachs painfully empty. But I also remember the woods; my sanctuary. Where I was free. Where I sang with my father. Where I gathered from the earth to fill the bellies of my starving, fragmented family once my father died. Where I met my best friend Gale. Where I was surrounded by real things: soil, foliage, sunlight.

My life wasn't amazing, but before the Reaping, I was about as happy as I could have been with my situation. Yes, the reaping. My horror at the sound of Prim's name being called. My insane bravery at volunteering for her. Love makes people do crazy things. Peeta. He was chosen. Up at that stage, we shook hands, and I remembered my debt to him. Peeta saved my life once, but I would have to kill him in order to return to my sister.

We went to the Capitol. Peeta was golden, with his lies that he could so easily weave out of thin air. Oh, how he loved me, how he would die for me. If only I had known then that those weren't lies. Everything he did in the arena, he wanted to save me. And he did, in the Finale.

Just remembering the Finale brings waves of dizziness to my head and tears to my eyes. I am a murderer. How could I stand atop that cornucopia as Peeta pulled Cato to the jaws of those mutts? I was supposed to be in love with him! I was supposed to jump down and rescue Peeta even if it meant my own life. Yet there I stood, like a coward, as peeta's life was ripped away by those mutts. I wonder if I would be forgiven, though, since I ended his life quickly with an arrow to his heart.

Sobs rack my body. Tears burn along my skin, dripping to my neck. I shake, writhe, and strain against my constraints until doctors swarm around me to put me back to sleep. But I will have a little victory, by showing them what their cruelty has done to me. Turned me into a beast, a maniac. I wonder if I'd loved Peeta, if those kisses in the cave were real. I wonder if love is making me do crazy things at this very moment.

And the sleep medicine finally pulls me under.

"Katniss." Whispers a soft, silky smooth voice. Cinna.

I open my eyes to see him sitting beside my bed. But I'm no longer in the hovercraft. No scary wires protruding from my body. No soft beeping from cold machines. Just Cinna, and a wardrobe that must be filled by countless masterpieces.

"Hi," I focre. But I hear my voice crack. Cinna sees my pain through my eyes, and nods his head. I don't need to speak. I just need to get dressed. But I'm weak, so Cinna helps me stand, helps me dress. I don't mind his hands as they brush my bare skin. His eyes don't see me the way other men's might. No he sees me as a canvas. Add some color here, some detail there, and I am a work of art.

I look in the mirror, and hardly recognize myself. I'm not the same innocent girl I was before the games. I am dressed in a black dress with sharp gold accents. A gold collar of studs adorns my neck. My heels look like they could be used to stab. My makeup deep and smoky, like the ashes of a fire that once burned bright. I am vicious, cold, unforgiving. I smile.

I finally look like myself.

But Cinna has one last surprise. He pushes a button on one of the accents of the dress, and my dress is a molten masterpiece. Deep shades of crimson transform my dress into the glowing coals of a fire. I may have burned out, but my hatred is still burning.

"No more fake flames, no more girly smiles, no more false innocence. You're above their artificiality, you're above them."

I smile again. I can finally be who I've wanted to be for so long. Cinna gives me a knowing look and graces my forehead with the slightest whisper of a kiss before exiting the room with his familiar grace and poise. I sit back on my bed, glaring at something, nothing, everything. I don't let my mind wander. I sit, my own hatred festering inside of me until I hear Effie prance in on those thousand inch heels.

"Up, up, up!" She sings, her face beaming, "My little Victor will be late to her own viewing if she doesn't get moving! My victor." Effie says blissfully. Of course she's happy. Now that her district finally has another victor, she'll be invited to more parties, be able to afford to imbed jewels in her face, maybe she'll get to spend some time in the company of rich, powerful, famous Capitolites.

But I know that if Effie had walked even a step in my shoes, she'd know the endless suffering that my life has become. So I let her parade me around until we end up backstage of my viewing. Yes, I get to watch Rue and Peeta and every other tribute die before my eyes while surrounded by a sea of Capitolites. Today is just my day.

"Katniss Everdeen, please walk onstage to greet Ceaser Flickerman." An official of some sort directs me. I shut my eyes for a second, forcing down the wave of nausea that is threatening to floor me. As I walk onstage, I am greeted by lights and shrill cheers of those who enjoyed watching me kill. I keep my eyes trained on Ceaser, who has a dazzling smile plastered onto his face, beckoning me forward.

"Well isn't it our beloved Girl on Fire, Katniss Everdeen!" He shouts, his voice emulating even more cheers from the crowd as I take my seat. As soon as I'm sitting in my velvet, plush chair across from Ceaser, flames encircle us on the stage. They dance around us, but I feel caged. I couldn't walk two feet from my chair without being roasted, yet here in my seat, I feel oddly cool. "What do you think of these extra additions to the stage? I wanted everything extra special for the Girl on Fire!"

"The Capitol can never seem to do enough for me," I say, but I keep a glare plastered to my face. "Such a shame nobody else is here to join me." The hatred in my voice is palpable, and I'm sure everyone knows that I'm talking about Peeta. Though I doubt they would have let two victors live anyways.

Ceaser gives me a sympathetic look. "Quite a shame indeed." Before gesturing to the giant screen before us. And the horror begins.

The blood bath remains true to its name its gruesome, and the sight of all the blood makes me nauseous. So I tune it all out. I just think of the woods. My father. Home. Lamb stew. Anything. And It works. I get through about half the games. But Rue's cries bring me back to the reality of this moment. And I watch her die onscreen once again. I don't let myself break down. She deserves better. But I hear her whispering to me, making me promise to win. "I did it, Rue. I won." I whisper to myself.

Then I find Peeta. I'm nursing him back to health, kissing him in the cave, risking my life at the feast for him. But all for what? He died in the end anyway, and all I'm left with are mental scars and painful memories of the boy with the bread. He dies on the screen, and I'm still standing on that damn Cornucopia, tears streaming down my face as I shoot him, saving him the pain of being ripped to shreds. He sacrificed himself for me. He deserved to win more than I ever would.

By the end of the film I feel the tears on my face, and I know the Capitol has broken me. Maybe not for good, but I'll never be the same. Ceaser puts his hand on mine, trying to comfort me, but all I want to do is slap him, beat him. "Don't cry. He died so you could be happy. He died because he loved you." He says. But I don't want his sympathy.

I wipe the silent tears away. "Well I'm anything but. I wish I could have died with him. We loved each other, Ceaser. If things were the other way around, I know he would feel the pain that I feel right now." I lie. But I can't say the truth because I don't know what the truth is. Did I love him? To be honest, I don't know. Whenever I tell myself that I did, I feel like I'm lying for the Capitol. But whenever I say that I don't, I feel guilty and empty inside.

Ceaser asks me a few more questions, which I answer numbly, but I can't feel, can't think. And then Snow is stalking towards me, the Victor's crown in hand. He places the thin gold tiara on my head, and I feel like a deer caught in headlights. I smell blood wafting from his lips, his snake eyes looking through my eyes into my soul.

"I will be throwing a grand celebration at my Mansion in your honor. I expect you to be there so I can inform you on some… issues." He says, a twisted smile on his face. I can only wonder what he means.

As soon as Snow exits the stage, the fire around my chair diminishes and… wait, did Snow just walk through it? But I remind myself that its fake flames, like at my tributes parade. I'm whisked offstage and don't even get to speak to Haymitch before being shoved into a limo.

I sit inside the limo in silence. But it doesn't stop my thoughts from wandering. What could Snow want? What did I do wrong? I played his sadistic game didn't I? Is it that… no, I'm sure everyone knows that I hunt. Is he upset that I didn't do more for Peeta? I simply have no idea. I feel my breathing speed up and I feel like I'm going to pass out from nervousness. Will he hurt Prim? Has he ever even had celebrations like this for other tributes?

I can't stop myself from questioning everything, but I'm finally pulled away from my thoughts when the limo stops and the doors to the limo open. "This way miss." Says the driver. I walk out of the limo but I'm not steady on my feet. The flashes of cameras and cheers of Capitolites as they greet me don't help either. I grab onto an Avox to keep myself from falling, and she looks afraid. I see the fear in her eyes, even though her body language doesn't show it. How many times will I be reminded that I'm a murderer?

" Please," I gasp, "I need to see the President."

So I hurriedly follow the Avox past the adoring crowds with their blue hair and jewels and designer makeup masks . We weave our way through the endless maze of crowds and Snows Mansion. It seems almost as if I could fit all of District 12 here. We finally arrive at a room on the fifteenth floor of Snows mansion. I bet I could fit Victors Village on this floor.

The Avox knocks on the door infront of us before scurrying away. The massive door opens and I am greeted by the evilly smirking President Snow.

"My, Katniss. Cinna has certainly outdone himself." Snow says, walking over to a balcony overlooking his courtyard. "Come in, I don't bite."

Oh, he does much worse. But I comply. "Why am I here?" I ask. I need to be away from this place as soon as possible. The scent of bloody roses stings my nose, hurts my brain. I can hear the fear in my voice.

"You have had an effect on my citizens, Miss Everdeen. You have no idea how many sponsors were lining up to buy gifts for you. But now it is your turn to repay them."

Repay them? Repay sponsors who have millions of dollars of work done on their bodies alone while I spend every day with the threat of starvation hanging over my head. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"Oh of course you don't. Miss Everdeen, you have no idea how much money my citizens would pay for a single night with the Girl on Fire." Snow says, that evil grin plastered to his face. "Just think of the profit. On my part, of course."

And it hits me. Prostitution. Snow will sell me just to make an easy dollar while I'll be tortured here in the Capitol as long as I'm found desirable. For some reason, I think back to all of those poor girls selling themselves at Cray's door. I remember thinking about how, if I'd been older, I'd probably be among them. Except I learned to hunt, and I began to look down on them, pity them. But now, I'm no different.

"But- but… yo-you can't…" I can't form words. And I know from his smile that yes, he can.

"Remember the day of the reaping, dear?" Snow says, his eyes boring into my soul. " You really love your sister Prim, don't you? But imagine if she was gone, just like," he snaps his fingers, "That."

And I can imagine. That had been the exact reason I'd volunteered in the first place. I'd fought so hard, but gained so little. If anything, I'm in a worse position than I was before the Reaping.

"Fine, I'll play by your rules, as always, but just promise that you won't lay a finger on Prim, ever." I say, the threat in my voice and my eyes palpable.

"Oh, Katniss." Snow says, "I don't have to, I have others to do so for me, if need be. And don't worry if you have no experience, I have arranged for some better…mentors… to assist you in Twelve."

And with that, He dismisses me with the wave of a hand. There is no questioning, I'm going to be his little whore whether I want to or not.

I don't remember much, the rest of my time in the Capitol is a blur. All I think about is Snow's heavy threats. But I know I'll have to comply. I didn't just survive the Hunger Games only to let Prim die.

Prim.

Until I arrive in District Twelve, my thoughts are preoccupied with Prim.

AN: So, as you may have noticed, I redid Chapter 1. I just thought it was too short and after reading over it, I thought that there were a lot of flaws for me to fix sooo... yea. Here's the new and improved Chapter 1! Its basically the same thing with some extra detail.