*not owning the Hunger Games!*
PLEASE COMMENT!
Ch. 11- Victory
I wake up feeling happy and well rested. Then, I realize that the bed is too soft to be a cot from the academy. My eyes pop open, and I remember everything. My breathing starts to get heavy and rapid again until they have no choice but to sedate me.
When I awake a second time, I'm in a different, much smaller room. The close walls make me feel safe, secure. But then the door opens and Enobaria walks in.
"How are you?" she asks, her face a mask of expressions, "We're glad you're finally awake."
"How long was I out?" I ask.
"Four days. Rest now, tomorrow we'll prep you for the recap of the Games."
At the mention of the recap, I begin to tremble. Enobaria says I'll be fine, then leaves me to rest. I drift off into sleep.
The next day I am woken up by my prep team, who are positively quivering with excitement. They're thrilled to have a victor, and even more thrilled about their new social status. They give me a full body polish, and I see scars on my arms and chest and face that I'm not sure how I got.
Whippany walks in, and smiles at me. "Congratulations," she says, "now let's talk about your dress. You have mainly been seen in grays and blacks, so let's go for bright, victor-colors." And with that, she dramatically pulls a pretty purple thing out of a bag. It's a nice purple, not too deep but not too light, with a fitted smooth top, and ballooned skirt made of silk. The skirt fades between deep purple, and light lavender. I wear a small, silver chain, and the outfit is complete. Throw on silver, sparkly hairspray, and I look pretty good. I have scars everywhere, my cheeks are hollow, and there are bags under my eyes, but my prep team is amazing and they manage to make me look as healthy as possible, given the circumstances. There are tremors in my hands, but there is nothing my prep team or Whippany can do about that.
Enobaria comes in to escort me behind the stage. The last time I stood here, it was with twenty three others who all thought they could win. Now they are all dead. I start to shake.
The curtain rises, and the sound of applause rushes to my ears. Caesar Flickerman's voice rings out, saying, "Please welcome, Spera Okenwitz!" and the crowd roars its approval. I take a deep breath, force a smile, and sit down. The lights dim, and a huge screen unfolds. The program will last three hours. They will be three of the worst hours of my life.
It starts with the anthem, then goes to the reapings. District Two is shown in full, but we just get flashes of the other districts. Cut straight to the opening ceremonies, and again, we see everyone but it's me they focus on. They flash my picture next to a number ten. The interviews from me and my allies are shown, not the whole thing of course, and we barely see anybody else. Then the games.
They begin with a large sweeping view of the arena, then the gong sounds. They show every death at every angle. I look sick and twisted as I allow Raymond to run into my blade. Then, they skip over our sorting supplies and head straight to us finding Trink and Kaitlyn. They show the flood scene from different perspectives, which would be cool, if it was someone else's games.
Horace's betrayal is played almost it slow motion. The Terannas are just as gruesome as they were the first time. The fight scene that follows is brutal, and I can hear the capitol cheering as Petunia and Pesik die.
Even the deaths I didn't see are broadcasted. I watch as Sylvia sneaks into Hanah and Honey's old campsite to steal food, only to be eaten alive by Terranas.
The next two days are entirely skipped. Instead, the filmers cut straight to the fire. They play all of it, but I see they skip the part where Regan accuses me of not being able to kill him. Wouldn't want to tarnish a Victor's reputation. This time, I can see what I couldn't in the arena. The screen shows shots of Horace slowly going from brutal, to scared, to insane.
Hanah's death is the worst yet. I want to turn away, but I force myself to keep watching.
The fight between me and Horace is long and drawn out. Looking at it from this view, the "obedient girl from District Two" takes over, and I find my screen self making tons of mistakes that look stupid, but at the time, I saw no other option. I begin to analyze the scene, just like we did at the academy. I know all the kids in District Two will be laughing over my mistakes, but then again, so would I if it was any one but me. I do snicker when I catch Horace taking the full blow of one of my kicks, then try to return the favor. Trumpets sound on the screen, and I am pronounced the victor. To one last round of applause, I exit the stage.
That night, I don't sleep. I spend the hours huddled in a corner of my bed, reliving every minute of the games. Then, at about three in the morning, I tell myself to snap out of it! I'm a Victor from District Two for goodness sakes! I'm supposed to be relishing my victory, not crying over it! So, after a few calming breaths, I imagine going home to an immense celebration, and that lulls me to sleep.
The next day, I spend all day sitting in a chair getting prepped for my interview. It's very boring, so I waste time thinking about my talent. Really, this is what all career Victors have trouble with. We train our whole lives, which doesn't leave much time for our interests. I decide to go with carving. I took a course once on making wooden weapons, and it was fun, and I was good at it, so that's what my talent will be. I only snap back to reality when Whippany comes back in with my dress.
For this getup, my face is plain, no makeup, and Whippany lets me put my hair up in its usual severe ponytail. The outfit is a loose, flowing yellow shirt, and flowing black pants. The whole thing is beautiful, and it makes me look like something from another universe. In my opinion, it's Whippany's best one yet.
Before I can head onto the stage for my post-games interview, Enobaria beckons me to the side.
"Okay," she says, "this is going to be the hardest interview of your life. I know you don't want to be thrilled right now, but, even though you're a victor, the audience still needs entertaining." I nod. Her message may not be clear, but I understand what she is saying. The games never end.
I walk out onto the stage, my head held high like my mother always tells me to. The audience is going wild, because a proud, fit, new victor is one of their favorite things. It's crazy that, in less than three weeks, I stood here, excited about the games.
Caesar, still dressed in his bright yellow, welcomes me, and I have a seat.
"Well Spera," he begins, "Let's start with the obvious question. You just won the Hunger Games! How does it feel?"
I think about it, then respond, "Let's see, Caesar, I'm nothing short of thrilled to be heading home to my district, and it's great to think I made them proud, but really, I just can't wait to get home to my family and friends."
"You were so cocky before the games," Caesar says, "Why so humble now?"
Because I just saw twenty three kids die, I want to say, but I can't. So I simply grin and say, "Before the games, it is important to believe in yourself. Now, I've proven to me and everybody else that I'm awesome, so I don't need to rub it in everyone else's faces."
Giant laugh from the audience.
"Now, let's talk about your alliances. What would you say to the family and friends of Jewel, your ally from District One?"
I really don't want to answer this one, but I do. "I would tell them that Jewel fought well and they should be proud of her."
Caesar nods. He asks me questions about Pesik, Azure, Horace, Levan, and everybody else I came in contact with. I see he steers clear of Regan though. I'm glad, because the truth is, I don't think I could have killed him. After allies comes my strategy, injuries, and weapons. Talking about my kills is hard, but since so many were taken out by natural forces this year, my list wasn't too long. But I'm relieved when Caesar says, "Alright Spera, we have time for one last question. What would you say to anyone who, inspired by your performance, is going to volunteer for the games at a younger age than expected next year?"
That's a hard question. "I would say, it you are ready, go for it, but just because I was, doesn't mean you will be ready to be a Victor at age fifteen."
Caesar smiles, and yells, "Ladies and gentlemen, Spera Okenwitz, Victor of the forty seventh Hunger Games!"
I smile and exit the stage to the Earth-shattering roar of the crowd.