Everleigh Marshall, 20
Capitolite
I'm nervous.
It's a familiar feeling these days with everything that's been going on. Food has been light; bombs are going off constantly, our people weren't ready for the craziness that happened. The people of the Capitol never expected the Districts to revolt. We sat in our cushy lives, our beautiful homes, with more food than we could imagine consuming and watched as the Districts were terrorized.
Well, not everyone. Some of us were smart.
"Everleigh," says Marcel Robins as he storms into the room. "The trials are starting,"
We walk out of the giant room, and most of the rebellion has been staying in. Marcel was a prominent business owner in District 8 when he came with the rebels to take down the Capitol. His workers were a Godsend when fighting the armies. They just kept coming and coming, and luckily, they carried it on long enough that the Capitol just rolled over and died pretty much.
I didn't just decide that I wanted the side of the Districts. I've never supported the Hunger Games, I've never liked the materialistic problems of the Capitol and what they've stood for. So when the Districts offered some of the Capitolite civilians to join over and escape the brutalities of a cruel war, I joined without hesitation. My family didn't, and sadly they most likely perished in one of the many bombings that the Districts have dropped on our once mighty city.
We arrive at the large double wooden doors that serve as an entrance to the courtroom. Marcel places his hand on the doorknob and opens up the thick door as we walk into the room.
Alejandro Porras has been the lead Gamemaker for the Hunger Games the past 9 years. He's unleashed unspeakable terror to the tributes that have gone into the games and had the unfortunate luck to have to deal with his sick creations. It's a no-brainer that his trial has been the most attended by far.
"All rise for the honorable Judge DiMarco," says the bailiff as he stands at the front of the room. Marcel moves throughout the crowd and leads us the front row where Porsche is saving a seat for us. She nods at Marcel and I as we take our place next to her.
Judge DiMarco is a short man with a round figure. His face is red like someone pinched his cheeks to many times as a child, and his hair looks as though someone glued a horse tail on top of his head and he tried to comb it over.
"You may be seated," says the judge with his raspy voice that's had one too many cigarettes. "Alejandro Porras, you're on trial for the massacre of 207 children that perished during your reign as Head GameMaker. How do you plead?"
"Go to hell," says Alejandro with a defiant tone. "You people disgust me. You're beneath me,"
"And yet, here you are," says Judge DiMarco. "Tied and bound by the very people you've labeled beneath you,"
The room cheers as Alejandro's face looks depressed. His eyes are sunken in, and it seems as if he hasn't eaten for days. Judge DiMarco opens up his mouth to speak again when a gunshot sound sends the room into a chaotic terror.
Alejandro sinks to the ground with a small hole in the middle of his forehead. I let out a scream as I look over at Marcel and see that the blood splattered and hit him in the face. Looking down at my clothes, the bright red spots cover my shirt, and as I place my hand to my face, I let out a scream realizing that my face is covered in his blood.
A soccer ball sized object floats through the air in front of us. The room goes quiet as the ball's center separates, and out pops a projection into the center of the court. Five people sit in the dark, and we are unable to recognize any of their faces.
"Hello, Panem," says a male voice. He has the familiar accent of the Capitol but there's something different about his. It's more genuine. "I bet you're wondering who we are,"
"Yes," says a different and more official sounding voice. "Allow us to introduce ourselves."
The only female in the group flips her hair, and she begins to speak. "We are known as the five. We have set back and watched the Districts and the Capitol go back and forth for months now,"
"And now it's time for us to take charge," says a young voice. "You've done our jobs perfectly with the fighting and executions,"
"But let's make this easier for all of us," says a voice that reeks of self-entitlement.
The screen switches from their silhouettes and, and a live stream appear in the projection. A group of people sits on their knees with sacks covering their heads, and guard with a gun is posed behind each one of them. One of the guards let out a signal, and each of the executioners standing behind the people removes their sacks from their face.
My jaw drops, as before us lies each of the commanding officers for either side of the war. The same guard who gave the signal counts down from 3, and just like that, the war is without commanding officers.
The screen switches and the silhouettes are now back on the screen. Laughter is emitting from where ever they are in this country, and rage builds up inside of me. "Let this be a warning to anyone who stands in our way," says the person in the middle. "I'm number 1,"
"I'm number 2," says the official voice.
"I'm number 3," says the female voice.
'I'm number 4," says the young voice.
"I'm number 5," says the self-entitled voice.
"Our family is very powerful, and we don't like it when people don't follow our rules. Panem is coming into a new world order," says Number One. "A world where the mighty rule with an iron fist,"
"And if you think that the last regime was bad, you have another thing coming with us," says Number 3 with a chuckle. "Consider this your first and only warning. Those of you who come against us will fail."
"We will be in touch, as for now, you need to find a new Gamemaker," says Number 2.
"Yes," says Number 4. "We love a good Hunger Games,"
"Good luck, Panem," they say in unison. "May the odds be ever in your favor,"
The projection disappears, and we are left staring at a blank wall. All left wondering if we just experienced the beginning of the end.
Hey, long time no see.
I was in a bad place, but now I'm back. I tried writing on Wattpad, but I wasn't as into it as I was here. I missed submitting tributes, and I like writing SYOTs better than the original stuff. I hope that you guys don't hate me for abandoning the site when I did, as well as abandoning Sparked.
The truth is I had a lot of bad things happening at once. 2 deaths in my immediate family, school, my professor wasn't the most understanding given the circumstances. I was overwhelmed, and this is where I came to escape, and I felt like that was being taken away from me.
But I'm back, I've grieved, I passed, and now I'm better.
I'm excited to start over. I've been missing doing this.
The form is on my profile, please no resubs, even if I had them before. Excited to see what you guys have in store for me.
Keep it classy,
Caleb
