Atila Fairgrove, 20, Victor of the 69th Hunger Games

It was my safe spot, my secret cavern hidden from an unsuspecting eye. Or at least, that's what I thought until I heard the footsteps. I stayed still, hoping whoever it was would continue on. But as luck would have it, that was not the case.

I let out a scream as the boy from Four pulls me out from behind the foliage. He pins me to the ground, a lust in his eyes I have never seen in any man before. This is it, I thought, this is where I die. Except, the boy had other plans. Plans that were never shown on TV. Plans that haunt me to this day. I let out one final scream before waking.

I wake covered in sweat, my breaths short. I hold my hand to my chest, trying to do anything to bring myself back to reality. I'm no longer in danger, I try to convince myself.

I quickly realize that statement is false as well. The Capitol ripped away any last hope for safety I had. As the only living female victor from Six, I knew my fate as soon as the twist was announced. I just haven't quite accepted this fact.

"Mommy?" I hear the sweet voice of my daughter from the other room. I exit my bed and go into her room, where she sits upright in her toddler bed. I crouch down and she runs into my arms.

"I'm so sorry sweetie, I hope mommy didn't wake you." I say, a silent tear falling down my cheek.

"It's okay, mommy." Kira's sweet voice makes my heart melt. I pull back from the hug and smile at her. Her blonde hair and blue eyes are so different from my dark brown hair and brown eyes, but I love her all the same. She is the only good thing to result from my time in the arena.

"Come on, let's eat." I take her by the hand and we walk into the kitchen together. I put her in her highchair and prepare a small meal for her.

We eat together and I can almost forget the horrors that will come later in the day. I look at Kira, only focused on her wellbeing. What will happen, when I'm reaped? Would Axle care for her? I sigh. The last time I saw my brother was right before my victory tour, right when he discovered I was pregnant. That was when my family disowned me, calling me irresponsible, wishing they had their daughter back. If only I could tell them the truth. If only I could share the assault that keep me up at night. Instead, I have to suffer alone. That's not true, I will always have Kira.

I clean up our meals and carry Kira upstairs. I help her change into a cute pink dress. I put her hair in a ponytail and hand her Snugglesworth, her favorite bear.

"Mommy's going to go get dressed now." I kiss her forehead and leave her to play with her bear. I decide on a white blouse and grey pencil skirt. At the last moment, I slip on grey heels that match my skirt. I do nothing special with my hair, simply brushing it out. I look in the mirror, dropping the fake smile that I wear out in public. I'm not oblivious, I hear the things people whisper about me. Once, I even heard someone compare me to a typical girl from District One, childish and flirty, only acting out for attention. If only they knew.

I go to collect my daughter and together we head off to the square. I put my fake smile on the entire way, only focusing on getting from point a to point b. I stop in my tracks when I arrive, staring at the stage in front of me. I'm suddenly hit with a wave of fear and I can feel my body begin to shake. I feel fourteen again, paralyzed by fear.

I snap out of it when I hear someone call my name. I turn around and see a man walking towards me. It's only when I hear him speak do I recognize my brother.

"I, uh, came to say, good luck." He says quietly. This time, my smile is real. I pull him into a hug with me and Kira.

"Thank you, Axle. You don't know what this means to me. To us." I look at little Kira, who smiles at Axle.

"I, uh, also came to see if you wanted me to watch over….Kira for you." He looks at my daughter and I see a smile form on his face. A wave of relief has been lifted off my shoulder.

"I would love that, Axle. She means the world to me." I pass my daughter over to him and am relieved when they both look happy.

"I love you both." I kiss my daughter and give my brother one last hug. "Thank you, again." I wave goodbye to them both as the final bell rings. Despite being unable to escape the horrors that await me, I know Kira will be taken care of. That alone, will make it all okay.


Aster Acura, 15, Victor of the 72nd Hunger Games

I was the youngest competitor in my Games, I was deemed to place 24th, with no chance of survival. Little did they know the arena would be a factory, one I felt at home in. Little did they know the Careers would turn on each other immediately after the deadliest bloodbath the Games have ever seen. Little did they know the final two tributes would underestimate me in the final battle. So, here we are. Three years later, and they want us Victors to fight to the death. Well, the Capitol can go to hell.

I lay alone, engulfed in the large bed that has become my own. This life I live is the complete opposite of the poverty-stricken life I was born into. I used to be carefree and starving. Now I'm full and angry.

The hardest part of returning home wasn't the killing, or the battle scars, it was sitting on that stage and rewatching the Games. On that stage, I realized the little faith everyone, including my family, had in me. My heart broke when I saw my parent's final eight interview.

"We will see him again when we join him in the afterlife." My father said with a tear in his eye to the interviewer. Three years have passed, and I still haven't found a way to forgive everybody.

I sit up in my bed and pull out my journal from my nightstand. I open to the page I last wrote in and continue my entry. As I write, I try to vividly remember every detail from the bloodbath. A year ago, I decided to begin writing a memoir of my experience in the Games. I want others to read what I went through, what all us victors went through. I don't want them to take us for granted.

I just barely finish up describing the last death I witnessed when I hear a knock at my door. I close my journal and see my mother slowly open the door. She uses her hands to sign, "It's almost time to go." I give a nod before asking her to leave. She does, and once the door closes I get out of bed. I find a decent tux to wear an brush my black hair back. I look at myself in the mirror. My pale skin has only gotten paler over these three years. I certainly look older, what with puberty kicking in an all that. I'm taller as well, but I'll look like a child sitting on stage next to my fellow victors. I take a deep breath before leaving my room and heading downstairs.

I see my parents sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of food in my spot. I sit and begin to eat, I hear my father clear his throat, and I look up at him.

"What?" I say harsher than intended. My father takes a deep breath.

"What are we going to do with you." He mumbles under his breath. I don't say anything back, I just continue to eat my meal. I shake my head, angry at him, angry at myself. God, I hate myself.

"I'm sorry." I mutter out before standing up from the kitchen table and leaving the house. I walk in the direction of the square, conflicted with emotions. I put on such a harsh front, most cannot get past my cold and distrustful attitude. Yet all I want is to go back to before I was reaped, I want to be that same twelve year old kid again. But I know it's futile.

I arrive at the square and am ushered onto the stage. I can tell by the faces on the peacekeepers that I'm late, but I just ignore it and take my seat.

I sit between Alonis and Atila, the only two other victors Six has. Alonis mentored me and has essentially taught me everything I know, and for that I'm very thankful. It saddens me when I notice the shake in his hand and the droop under his eyes, he's suffering from withdrawal. I turn to keep my eyes on my shoes and try not to think about anything.

Our escort, Fame, struts up to the mic. She thinks she's hot shit, but she's really not. With an awkwardly large nose and round face, topped off with pastel pink hair and a body tight jumpsuit, she's quite unattractive.

"Welcome, welcome, citizens, and victors, to the 75th Hunger Games. As always, lets begin with our wonderful video." I keep my eyes fixated on my shoes, dreading these next few moments. Alonis or I will have to compete again. I sure as hell don't want to compete, but I don't want to see Alonis compete either. I don't realize the video is over until Atila stands up next to Fame. A fake smile forms on her face and I feel my pace racing. Fame picks a slip from the male bowl and begins to read.

"Aster Acura!" Fuck. I stand up slowly, staring at Alonis, almost hoping he volunteers for me. But he doesn't even look at me. I stand next to Atila, fear swelling up in my body.

This is going to suck.


I hope I did both of these characters justice, they were both so complex. I hope you guys like them!

Don't forget to review! School has ended for the holidays so I hope to be updating a lot more.