Citrine Whitacre from District 1
Victor of the Ninth Annual Hunger Games

"Oh my God," Citrine gasped, examining the girl in the pale green dress. "Is that… Cassie Walters?"

Citrine's friend, Lace, nodded her head gravely.

"This ruins everything!" Citrine pouted. "I thought she was going to take Silver Wrangel to the dance! That's the only reason I never asked him out!"

The disco ball changed colors, dazzling the dance floor with bright specks of red and purple.

"Come on, Citrine," Lace urged. "We have to keep moving. We don't want to miss Stelline's stunt!"

Citrine rolled her eyes. Stelline, Stelline. Always looking to be the center of attention. Citrine never understood why she was so popular. She was weird and prissy and her boyfriend wasn't even that cute. Even so, Citrine was curious as to what stunt Stelline would pull off at this year's dance.

I could be dancing with Silver Wrangel right now, she thought dreamily, hurrying after Lace as she swirled away across the dance floor. Citrine couldn't believe it. Sure, she and Cassie weren't exactly best friends. But she never expected her to change plans at the last minute!

Long story short, it was a mediocre evening. Citrine spent most of the night standing cluelessly next to the punch bowl, drinking and eating everything she could find. She smiled and twirled her dress for all of the boys, trying to get their attention.

Eventually, the crowd started heading outside. That could only mean one thing.

"Citrine!" Lace shouted, her voice heard only faintly over the roar of voices. "Come on!"

Ten seconds later, the courtyard in the school was jam-packed with people. Citrine hated it, which was funny because she wasn't the claustrophobic type. Everyone was pointing at the top of the school, where Stelline was revving up a big red motorcycle.

Citrine's stomach fell. "She's not going to… jump across the courtyard?"

Lace nodded, her eyes wild with excitement.

The crowd drew in a collective breathe as Stelline zoomed forward on the motorcycle. She leapt into the air, flying across the gaping hole in the roof…

She hit the corner with a crash, and dark red liquid splattered downward like rain. The students stumbled out of her path as the girl and the motorcycle fell the ground, landing in the courtyard with a sickening boom.

For five seconds, you could hear a pin drop. A split second later, there was utter mayhem.

There was a chaotic rumble of terrified kids and curious onlookers, the crush of people moving every which way. Someone must have called the peacekeepers, because ten minutes later the students were being shooed away as Stelline's body was covered with a big blue tarp.

"Citrine!" Lace yelled, yanking her back into the school.

"What's happening?"

"I'll explain later. Keep moving!"

A few minutes later, they came to a stop in an empty classroom with only a few desks. It was so dark they could hardly see the other end of the room. It was weird, Citrine thought, seeing her own school at night.

"I always knew that girl's brashness would catch up to her. I knew it," Lace mumbled.

"Let me get this straight," Citrine said. "She does some kind of stunt every year at the dance. And this time, it killed her."

Lace nodded gravely. "Pretty much."

"Why hasn't she gotten in trouble before?"

"It was never anything actually dangerous," Lace explained. "Until now."

Citrine gulped hard. This evening had taken an extremely dark turn.

"But that's not all," Lace added, her voice dropping darkly.

Citrine rolled her eyes slightly. Lace could be so dramatic sometimes.

"What do you mean?"

"She was the chosen female volunteer for this year's Hunger Games."

"Can't they just pick someone else?" Citrine asked.

"If they have enough time, yes. But the reaping is tomorrow and communications in the districts can be slow."

"Does that mean…"

"Some untrained kid might enter the arena this year?" Lace said, completing her sentence. "Yeah."

The girls made their way out of the school, sidling along the outermost hallways to avoid contact with the peacekeepers. Even in District 1, everyone was mistrustful of them. They knew when to stay out of the Capitol's business, and this was definitely one of those times.

"I never want to visit the Capitol," Citrine whispered absentmindedly while she and Lace were walking home.

"Why not? I think you'd love it."

"Oh, I might." Citrine thought about the lights and the boys and the fruit punch. "But I bet they don't get nervous about dances there. They don't ride motorcycles there."

"Riding motorcycles didn't turn out too well for us," Lace persevered, remembering Stelline's bloody body. "Maybe she pulled off that stunt because she wanted one last breath of fresh air. One last taste of life in the districts."

Citrine shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe she just wanted people to pay attention to her. Make a splash to get the ball rolling before the reaping even happened."

"You nervous for the reaping?" Lace asked.

"A little. I'm sure they'll find a replacement volunteer, though."

She went to sleep that night thinking about motorcycles and blood and reaping balls. And Silver. She danced with him in her dreams.

A roar shattered the silence. There was the scuffle of claws, the flap of giant wings. Then a jet of fire lit up the night sky.

Citrine ducked into the undergrowth, shaking like a leaf. Tears of terror dripped off her chin as she crawled along the ground, hiding from the enormous dragon mutt.

The events of the last few days spun through her mind like pieces of shattered glass in a kaleidoscope. Thoughts flew through her mind, tanging into an enormous web that made it difficult to see the ground ahead of her.

Don't stop moving, don't stop moving, she urged herself, remembering Lace's words the night before the reaping.

She caught a glimpse of the dragon's dark green scales in the moonlight and screeched to a halt. The beast roared out a jet of fire, engulfing the line of trees she had been using to cover herself. Citrine stumbled backward, coughing and tearing up from the smoke. It was in her lungs, it was in her face, it was in her skin.

I'm going to die, she decided, and then I can be finished being terrified.

But the strength of the childlike mind is astounding. It simply cannot accept defeat.

Wanting to at least get her thoughts in order before her death, she thought of the last few days. Stumbling through the overgrown black wasteland, hiding from the dragon, scrounging for food in the areas of the arena that hadn't been scorched. It was the same every day; she had no idea if she'd been in the arena for a week or a month. She'd also long since stopped keeping track of how many tributes were left. For all she knew, she could be one of the final two.

All too quickly, she lost the strength to run. Right when she slowed to a walk, her toe caught on a root and she tumbled to the ground, getting herself a mouthful of disgusting rocks and weeds. Suddenly, she felt just like Stelline; crushed against a corner, falling, bloods spraying in all directions.

Her shoes were beaten and worn; they flew off of her feet as soon as she started sprinting again. Her toes probed the night air, the frigid ground scraping and tearing open the bottoms of her feet. Every step sent an evil, stabbing tremor through her legs. Black splotches dotted her vision.

The dragon swooped down again, planting its talons into the wild ground. Citrine swerved to avoid the path of its flames, ducking behind a massive bounder to avoid being fried.

She was trapped. She tried to run, but she couldn't make any part of her body move. Her head pounded and her body ached and suddenly it didn't seem so bad to just die. Let the mutt tear her apart with its talons, or scorch her to death with its fiery breath. Whatever it wanted. It was sure to be quick.

Once again, she felt just like Stelline, and the thought crossed her mind that she would not allow herself to die right here.

She got the wild thought that maybe thinking about the dance could save her. So she remembered everything she could: Silver and Cassie and Lace and the motorcycle and the blood and the peacekeepers and the big tarp. And the song that was playing during the first slow dance.

Suddenly, the dragon came to a halt. It stopped shooting flames. It stopped swiping at the air with its talons.

Oh, it's playing dead so I'll come out of hiding into its path.

In the dead silence, Citrine realized she was humming the song. A simple but beautiful tune from the old days of District 1. Back when the Capitol treated the people the way a government should.

She was drunk on the superstition that the song was keeping the dragon at bay. So she hummed louder. She sang the words, even. Something about longing for home, about walking into a mine and leaving someone forever behind.

The dragon began to sway softly back and forth.

Citrine's heard stopped beating. In her shock, she stopped humming, and the dragon started clawing at the air again. She picked the song back up, singing it over and over and over until the creature fell into a rigid, tired sort of dance. She kept singing long after the dragon had stopped moving completely. It was asleep, she realized. Her lullaby had brought it into a slumber.

She didn't stick around to admire the snoozing creature. She backed away as quietly as she could and then ran for her life.

Lace laughed, an awkward sort of laugh. "Long time, no see."

Citrine just stared at her feet. She'd been dreading this. Coming back to the people she loved – the people who were exactly the same even though she'd changed so much.

But Lace wasn't exactly the same. Citrine examined her features and saw a different girl, different eyes, a different soul. Her home didn't feel like it felt before the games. The streets weren't the same, the sky wasn't the same. The world wasn't the same, ever since it had been flipped upside down.

Only after a few seconds did she realize that Lace had spoken to her. Long time, no see.

"Yeah. It's… it's been a while."

Her own voice wasn't the same either.

"I got your letter last night. The one where you told me about your plans." Lace eyed Citrine carefully, wondering what was going on inside her head.

Citrine nodded. "Can we do it today?"

"I mean, I'll be marked absent, but by all means let's do it. I like you that much." Lace's lips curled into a rebellious little smile.

What felt like two seconds later, the two girls were in the courtyard, standing over the dent in the ground where Stelline's body had made impact.

"I thought about her while the dragon was chasing me," Citrine murmured in a somber tone. "About how much she loved to be looked at. How much she loved music."

Lace's eyes fell. "I was rooting for you the entire time, Citrine. While that dragon was after you, I was screaming your name. Urging you to keep fighting."

"Stelline didn't get a chance to keep fighting."

"Taking the risk in the first place was her chance. She decided to do something dangerous, just for one more taste of her home district."

She was right, Citrine thought. And maybe asking out boys to school dances was worth it just to wallow in the thrill of being young. Not that making romantic advances was comparable to leaping to your death. But they were the same idea.

Lace led Citrine back into the school, guiding her through the hallways toward the gym. As they passed by, teachers stopped talking. Everyone craned their necks to get a look at the girl who'd survived the dragon arena, the girl they'd seen on television.

"We left up the disco ball in your honor," Citrine said.

And there it was, colorless and unmoving on the ceiling of the gym.

"It's beautiful," whispered the victor. Because it was the only thing that truly looked the same. She began to hum the song that had saved her life, rocking back and forth to the luscious tune.

"It sounds the same too," she murmured. "Hey, what do you say I ask Silver Wrangel out some time this week?"

Lace smiled. "Sounds like a plan to me."

And, for the first time, her voice sounded the way Citrine remembered.

List of Victors

District 1 (2 Victors): Luxor Dodge (1st), Citrine Whitacre (9th)

District 2 (2 Victors): Tyrell Crowley (3rd), Lancaster Percy (6th)

District 3 (0 Victors):

District 4 (0 Victors):

District 5 (1 Victor): Electra Wilty (4th)

District 6 (1 Victor): Jaguar Stratton (7th)

District 7 (1 Victor): Rowan Dobson (2nd)

District 8 (1 Victor): Georgio Bronte (8th)

District 9 (0 Victors):

District 10 (0 Victors):

District 11 (1 Victor): Bluebell Singer (5th)

District 12 (0 Victors):