I feel like I'm going to be sick.

Serelda South, my district's escort, snatches a small slip of paper in her perfectly manicured hands. I feel sorry for the child, forced to go into the Hunger Games. But fate saves that child. The slip of paper is whisked away by a generous breeze. That child is safe. Nobody else is.

Serelda's cheeks turn pink, and she quickly reaches in for another slip. She calls a name that seems unusually familiar to me. But when the path clears in front of me and I'm being pushed towards the stage, I realize that it's me. I envy the child whose life was saved. The odds are entirely in their favor. I am not so lucky.

I tell myself to smile. Everyone is watching, and I must be fearless. It is my only chance of survival. Smile. Smile, because you don't have much time to do it.

…

When my family comes to say goodbye, there are tears. Tears and hugs and kisses and love and fear. But I smile.

I smile for my mother, who was always afraid that this would happen.

I smile for my father, who is my family's only hope of survival.

I smile for my little brother, who is only six. He doesn't know what's happening. He doesn't know that I'll be dead within two weeks. He doesn't know that my smile is the only thing that keeps me from breaking.

…

The cheers and whistles reach my ears as all of Panem watches the chariot rides. My district partner, who is much stronger and skilled than I will ever be, is smiling. I am smiling. All of Panem is smiling.

Smiling is what keeps you alive. Smiling gets you sponsors. Sponsors give you life.

Smiling keeps you going in the darkest of times. Smiling is the promise of a better tomorrow.

Smiling is my only hope.

…

I smile during training. Other tributes smile back. Other tributes sneer and glare.

One smile in particular stands out. The smile belongs to a wonderful boy from another district. His smile has dimples, perfect teeth, a flawless face, and dark curls. I grow fond of this smile.

His smile is the only thing that keeps me going. I know I have to see his smile in the Games. I ask to be allies.

He smiles.

…

My dress is long and trails on the floor behind me, its gorgeous crystals catching and throwing light all around. My hair is long and blonde and wavy. My skin is fair and flawless. My smile is proud, and hopeful.

His tuxedo is amazing. It needs no special embellishments. His hair is dark and curly and shaggy. His skin is tan and perfect. His smile is the best part – confident and happy and breathtaking. I love that smile.

We both smile through the interviews, and try to hide the tears behind thrilled grins when our families our mentioned. We both know we will not be going back.

Nonetheless, we smile. It's the only thing we've got.

…

I look for him during the bloodbath. He isn't smiling. I'm not either. I'm running towards him, tears pouring down my face as I imagine the prospect of the next few days. I lean against him, and don't care about the chaos going on around us. We run towards the forest and get away from it all. My tears haven't stopped.

He tells me to smile. He says he'll keep me safe. He promises that everything will be okay.

I am dumb enough to believe him.

…

Nothing is okay when he runs the blade through his heart and the cannon goes off. He keeps both of us safe until the end, and kills himself so he doesn't have to kill me. He uses his last breath to tell me that he loves me, to tell me to smile. I try, but I can't.

He should be the victor. He kept me going. I don't leave his body. I scream and cry and yell for help. I call his name and beg him to wake up, to come back to me, to smile one more time. He doesn't.

Smiling was the only thing that kept me alive in the arena. His smile. Now that I've lost it, I forget how to smile myself. I try to smile when I see my family again. But I can't. All I do is lie in my room and try to do what told me to, try to smile for him. All I manage to do is make the tears fall harder.

I am the victor of the 7th Hunger Games. And I am broken. Smiling is hope, promise for a better tomorrow. How can tomorrow be better if the person you love isn't there to smile with you?

This is just a short one-shot that popped into my head. It's a kind of drabble about a victor of the Hunger Games. What happens to the lovers who aren't as lucky as Katniss and Peeta? What happens to the people who have lost their will to smile?

What do I think of this? I think it's kind of pointless, and not the best thing I've ever written. I wrote this in about 10 minutes because I had nothing better to do. What do you think of it? Reviews are appreciated. Flames are used to burn the tribute who killed Prim.