My first memory is of my sister. Cashmere stands above my crib, tall for her age. She's only two years-old, but she already has an understanding of independence. Her blonde hair cascades over me, and I play with it lightly. She reaches her hand down to me and strokes my face. I grab her finger with my whole hand, and she smiles.
Our mother had died giving birth to me, an unfortunate accident. Father left soon after, unable to take care of us. We were thrown to the orphanage, the most shameful place in District One.
We grew for years, just us. Cash would protect me from bullies, until I was old enough to stand up for myself. She taught me to fight, to hit properly, to defend. On her ninth birthday, she was old enough to start training at the academy, but she didn't. Instead, she waited until I was nine and she was eleven, and we trained together, every single day. We left the orphanage and were taken in to train and be taught survival and combat skills.
As though we were attached at the hip, neither of us left the other's side. It was always that way.
A year later, it was her first reaping. She'd taken out tesserae for both of us, so her name was in the ball three times. She was reaped. It was the most terrifying time of my life. Thankfully, someone volunteered for her. Both of us bid the girl good luck and farewell in the Justice Building, but she didn't come back. We cried watching her death. Cashmere cried more than I did.
When my sister was sixteen, and we were both ready, she volunteered. I told her to try her best. We'd discussed it for months, but I was worried. I knew I'd be able to look after myself if anything happened, but I didn't want to lose her. She was all I ever had.
"Gloss," she had said, "I'll be fine. I'll be back in a few weeks. Please don't cry, little brother." She held me in her arms and stroked my locks, which matched her own. It was horrible when the Peacekeeper wrenched me out of her embrace; I'd never been separated from her.
Cashmere had told me to train, confident that she'd make it home. But I couldn't take my eyes off the screen at the academy. I watched as my big sister was paraded through the Capitol, beautifully dressed in a baby pink dress on her chariot and equally as stunning in her interview. My eyes were glued to the screen during the bloodbath, when she cut down that chubby kid from Six with a sickle. She was amazing, so flawless and skilled.
"That's my sister!" I'd say, whenever she made a kill. In total, she got the record for most kills in any Games. Seven kids taken down by her.
But in the last moments, I thought she was a goner. It was just her and her former ally, Valasca, from Two.
"Give up, Cash, you're done," Valasca had said, the two circling one another. I thought she was right, and covered my eyes with my hands, peeking through. My sister had a horrible limp, cuts all over her once-perfect face. Her left arm hung completely useless, from a clean slice down to the bone.
All around them, ash fell from the sky, the aftermath of a volcanic eruption both had managed to escape.
"Val," my sister spoke through ragged breaths. Looking at her was so difficult. The girl from Two cocked her head to the side. Blood matted her hair, her right ear had been viciously removed with a throwing knife earlier in the Games.
"Yes, bitch?" I wanted to slit her throat there and then.
"What's that?" My sister raised her good arm, sickle in hand, and pointed to the other girl's feet. I hadn't even noticed it creeping up, but the lava was an inch from Val's feet. It got them before she could get away, and she screamed.
"FUCKING HELP ME! PLEASE!"
"Sure," my sister said, an evil smile creeping onto her lips. She limped over to her, and with considerable effort, swung her working leg round and booted the girl backwards.
Valasca's heart stopped before she was even fully absorbed by the lava, ruined by the burning substance.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the 66th Hunger Games, Cashmere Opal!"
I waited anxiously until she returned home, so proud, so happy for her.
She was as wonderful as she ever was. As vicious as I'd always known her to be. For the cameras, she put on a brave front, as though the Games hadn't affected her. But I knew otherwise.
After moving into our new home in the Victor's Village, she had nightmares. Not just once or twice, but every night after.
Sometimes she was gone for days, weeks on end, with no information given. She'd just hop on the next train saying "They need me in the Capitol" and that was the last I'd hear of it.
She'd tell me often not to go into the Games, that it ruins you forever. But I told her I had to. If she was going to go through this, she wasn't going alone.
The year following her return, the reaping came. I volunteered, despite Cashmere's pleas for me not to 'be so stupid'.
"It's not stupid," I'd told her in the Justice Building before we departed, "I'm doing this for you. I don't want to see you suffer like this, I don't want you to have to be alone."
"But what if you don't come back? What then?"
"I will, Cash, I promise." Being taller than her, I kissed her forehead.
"Well I'm your mentor this year, and you're getting out of this if it's the last thing I do."
I held her close to me again before we departed for the Capitol.
This magnificent city always was my favourite place, and my love for it heightened when I got there the first time. The lights were amazing, the buildings overwhelming. I loved the people, and they loved me.
I looked wonderful in my chariot outfit, and played the 'little-brother-of-a-Victor-so-I'm-gonna-win-this-shit' angle in my interview. I won everyone over, I knew that much.
In the arena, I was unstoppable. It was a jungle, ferocious and welcoming. The bloodbath was even more interesting. The Gamemakers decided to make things brilliant and threw in a bunch of snake mutts that attacked whoever got too close to the Cornucopia.
I stuck with the Careers, and matched my sister's kill score. Using twin daggers, I took down both the guys from the other Career districts: Aaron from Two and Lorcan from Four. It was tiring, and I lost a couple of fingers, but I was triumphant and returning to my sister. That's all that mattered. I'd kept my promise.
"You fool, Gloss. You're fucked," Cashmere had said as we watched the Capitol from the roof of the Training Center.
"What do you mean? I'm fine, sis." I was confused, I didn't know what she meant in the slightest. The killing hadn't phased me the whole time I was there, I really was fine.
"They're going to make you do things. You should have listened to me. I can't believe I let this happen." She just looked out over the city, like she'd made the biggest mistake of her life.
"Who? What're you talking about?"
"You'll see."
I did. That evening, as the sun set over the Capitol and I spoke with fans in the President's mansion, I was summoned. President Snow himself wished to speak with me. Various thoughts had run through my mind, as I pondered my sister's words. Maybe this was what she'd been talking about. They're going to do something to me, I know it.
"Gloss Opal. How are you? I trust the banquet and my guests are treating you well?"
Snow's snake-like eyes watched me the entire time.
"Yes, sir, thank you very much."
"Wonderful."
He just stared. I knew he was daring me to say something, or do something, but I wasn't falling for it.
"I presume you're wondering the reason for my summoning you here, when you would likely rather be celebrating you victory?"
"You presume correctly, sir."
"Oh, you needn't call me sir, we're practically equals now," he smiled, but his eyebrows furrowed. He says we're equals but I'm still just a district citizen, worse than shit on his shoe. His words say one thing, his actions another. Nonetheless, I nod, acknowledging his fake gesture.
"It has come to my attention that you have a great following in the Capitol. As you are well aware, numerous citizens contributed vast amounts of money to sponsor you and make sure you succeeded in this year's Games. The sponsors, however, were not fully satisfied, and have requested that you fulfil their needs... as such."
"You mean..."
"Yes. You will be required to spend the night with a woman tonight, and one or two other admirers, whenever you are called to the Capitol. This is your duty. If you do not adhere to this, we will be forced to take action against you."
Ha, good luck, I'd thought, you can't hurt me.
"Your sister is aware of the situation. She has been watched closely for the past year. She agreed to do the same to protect you. Now I would like to propose that you follow her example and agree as well. Know, however, that if you do not, things may... happen."
Snow still held that thin smile, filled with such evil, such malice. If I had my daggers I'd cut his fucking head off. I had no choice but to comply.
"Okay, whatever you wish... sir."
He nodded, and the Peacekeepers led me from the room. I walked back to the banquet, and observed each of the dancing pairs circling around the dance floor. Eyes locked with my own from across the room. The woman was hideous. Large, plastic and worst of all, her skin was vomit green.
Maybe my innocence was damaged by the Games. But that just tore it out of me entirely.
The next day, I was returned to District One. Cashmere tried her hardest to comfort me, telling me it only gets better from then, sometimes pleasurable. But it never did.
Eventually I became robot-like. Never did I bother with foreplay. Nothing more than a simple fuck. Even when it was a particularly forceful man, I let it happen without question. I wasn't concerned with the clientele, only the survival of the thing I held most dear. If it kept her alive it was enough.
We often spoke of giving up, Cash and I. Sometimes suicide felt like the only option. All we had to care for was ourselves, anyway. But having survived being abandoned by our father, we dismissed the idea as often as it came. We were tainted, tormented and violated for years, but we stayed strong.
Years passed, and soon, with some luck, the Capitol grew bored of us. Finnick Odair was still the most popular forced-gigolo in the city, and my sister and I became mere faces in a crowd of past Victors. Both of us kept our good looks, but we were never happy. We never bothered trying to have real relationships, after coming to the conclusion that our baggage would be too much for people to handle. No one would want the poor washed-out sibling Victors of District One.
Something did want us, though. It was practically made for us. With the announcement of the Quarter Quell, we sought a way out of the torture. Each of us volunteered in the place of those reaped, and discussed it on the train.
"One of us will win, Gloss," my sister had said, "we have to. We'll be back in our zone, in there. Back to who we were before."
"But I don't want to win, Cash."
"Please, Gloss. Promise me, if it comes down to us, you will kill me."
"I don't want to, I couldn't." I'd spent so long protecting her, but hadn't she done the same for me? Did I not owe her my life?
"You have to. Promise me." Then her eyes showed me something. It wasn't so I could win – she wanted to end the suffering. I began to well up as I understood.
"I promise."
We wowed the crowds again, making them fall in love with us once more. We did spectacularly. Cashmere played up to the crowd perfectly, pulling at their heartstrings by reminding them that some of their beloved Victors were being shipped off to die. I simply thanked the citizens for their kindness towards Cashmere and myself. It was a lie, but it's all I had to say.
The night before the Games, Cash confronted me.
"Remember your promise, little brother."
"I will. I love you Cash. I love you so much."
She pulled me into the tightest hug we ever shared. "I love you."
The plate raised me into the arena. I was surrounded by water. I've never liked the stuff, but I'm an alright swimmer. The countdown began and I scanned the scene for Cashmere. She must have been on the opposite side of the Cornucopia, because for the life of me, I couldn't see her. There was a strip of land to my right, but it's not within jumping reach.
When the gong went off, I dived into the water. I stayed submerged and thought I was going to drown, but I came back up quickly. I spotted Finnick and the Bitch on Fire at the Cornucopia. The drunk from Five – I've never learned his name – was sneaking up behind the lucky brat. Finnick knocked her out of the way in time to stick a trident in his chest. He's got skill, I'll give him that. But he wasn't in the Careers this year, so that makes him an enemy.
I was about twenty metres from the Cornucopia when I saw Enobaria climbing up and sneaking round toward Katniss. She spotted my spike-toothed ally and shot an arrow in her direction. Luckily, Eno dodged it by leaping back into the water.
Then Twelve turned on me, and the arrow was in my calf before I could dive completely out of its path. The pain was bearable; I'd felt worse. I yanked the arrow out and threw it into the depths.
Continuing my swim, I resurfaced closer to the Cornucopia and noticed Brutus charging in the direction of my enemies. His belt was raised in front of him; he was cleverer than I thought, having worked out it could be used as a shield. He blocked Katniss' first arrow, but rolled into the water just in time to dodge her second. Enobaria and I pulled ourselves up onto the island hosting the Cornucopia and made a dash for the mouth of it. Finnick had left Katniss guarding, but she had her bow raised, an arrow slotted. We daren't go near her, but take the closest weapons from the Cornucopia. Finnick returned with Katniss' lover-boy and Mags, his district partner.
We ignored them as they made a getaway and turned to the others. Johanna, Blight, Nuts and Volts tried to escape unscathed, but Enobaria stabbed Beetee in the back before he could get away. Dagger in hand, I strode over to Woof, from 8, struggling to get onto the island. I gave him my hand and pulled him up. Before he could thank me, I stuck the blade in his throat and kicked him back into the water.
Cashmere appeared at my side. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Nice job, little brother," she said, grinning. I noticed she already has a sickle in her hand, but don't have time to admire the weapon.
"Move, Cash!" My sister ducked before Seeder could bash the mace into her skull, and I shoved my dagger right through her heart.
"Thanks," Cashmere said, panting, "but we had a deal, remember?"
"Yeah, that doesn't mean I can get a couple of kills in before I get you," I said with a wink.
"I suppose so." We turned back to see four bodies at the feet of Enobaria and Brutus, our vicious companions.
"You're lacking, Cash," Enobaria said cheekily. I noticed Cecelia's fallen figure on the sand, half her cheek torn off, her throat ripped out completely. Eno's classic technique.
We spent the rest of the day organising the Cornucopia, proud of our kills. During the night we left the golden horn in search of more victims. It was sort of nice, my last day alive.
Now, as the arrow pierces my brain and I admire my final kill, I remember the promise I made. The promise I wasn't able to keep. I failed you, big sister. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.