Belladonna's half shut eyes fluttered as she reclined on her leather couch, clutching a wineglass in her hand like it was a lifeline. She tilted it back and drank deeply, savoring every mouthful. The newscaster in the television faded to a low hum, which was the way Belladonna liked it. The inane speculations on the Hunger Games would be her downfall. And so would the endless replays of last year's stunning victory. A District Eleven tribute won, Thistle was his name. They had pitted mutts against him, trying to help the District Two boy, a Capitol favorite, win, but he killed them off. Then smashed the other boy's spine open with a club. It all worked out in the end didn't it, Belladonna thought hazily to herself. Loved the blood, they did. Liked the sound it made when his body hit the floor. Some kind of thump.
Belladonna laughed. She didn't like it, but she laughed. It was some kind of release. She needed it. They would begin building the arena soon, finalize the map. Make it more deadly. President Amhurst would be there for every second of it.
One would think, Belladonna thought hazily to herself, running her long fingers over the lion furs draped over her couch. That she would have something else to do. Running Panem must not be enough work.
"No," Belladonna rasped to the paintings hanging on the walls of her penthouse. "She has to stick her long nose into everything." The presentation she made to the President was merely a formality. She would busy herself with coming up with new cruel ideas for muttations, come up with traps that would kill as many tributes off as possible. The President was a former Gamemaker and seized power through his father, who was widely believed to have lead the Capitol after the Dark Days.
"Lies," Belladonna hissed to herself. It never occurred to her to hold her tongue, maybe think about what she was saying. "All lies."
Then, she blinked back tears as her blasphemous words raced round and round in her head. Amhurst, she thought to herself, feeling disgusted, tainted. I spoke out against President Amhurst.
Belladonna took another sip of her wine. I'm insane when I'm alone. This is who I really am. Disgrace.
Like everycitizen, Belladonna had raised her children to be ideal followers of the Capitol. Her daughter, Valentina was following in her footsteps and her son, Tempest were both ideal citizens of the Capitol, following the doctrine with zeal. They both aspired to be part of the government. Both of them delivered speeches at Cyprus, parroting laws and shining slogans about how right everything was, how they had achieved a perfect utopia.
If this is the best humanity can achieve, than we're screwed.
"Like a phoenix from the ashes, like a shining beacon in a dark and turbulent sea, we, the citizens of the Capitol stand tall and strong. My people, I ask you to imagine this. In one hand, you, yes, you, hold a sword. A pristine, perfect weapon used by humanity for generations. A symbol of bravery. We use this to strike down our enemies, never afraid to defend our beautiful lands. In the other, we hold a rose. A symbol of our beauty, our perfect lives, unladen with the disease and starvation that has plagued humanity for generations. My people, applaud your country! This is the crux of humanity! Thousands of generations have rose, only to subcumb to their flaws, their fatal flaws. We rose, we, a perfect race, we a perfect society. We thought we would not fall. Then the Dark Days, when our soldiers took up arms and defended our Golden City. Blood was shed here, right beneath your feet! Blood of your families! They have died for you, sacrificed so you can live. My people, take pride in who you are, a citizen of the Capitol! Carry it in your heart! It pumps with the blood of your ancestors, who were felled at the guns of rebels! Cowardly rebels! They try and take what is ours! Rightfully ours!"
Her daughter, Valentina delivered the speech, her hands slamming on the podium, her golden eyes flashing with an impassioned madness, her mouth screaming blind hate and blind patriotism, which was all she had ever known. Valentina, the perfect student, the perfect citizen, the perfect girl with the perfect future. She was head of the Future Gamemakers of Panem, Daughters of Amhurst, who dedicated themselves to publishing glowing editorials of her in the school newspaper, Cyprus and Panem, and, her personal favorite, the Youth for the Future of Panem, an organization that handpicked the "best and brightest" and provided them with easy access to government jobs when they graduated. Her colleagues spoke of it with fond memories. Valentina was utterly dedicated to them and delivered speeches for them every weekend at the school.
"Good for you, Valentina." Belladonna was no fool; her daughter would turn her in an instant for poisoned thoughts that will destroy our utopia. Valentina had noticed a change in her when she turned fifteen, when she procured a job as Gamemaker and finally had to stop deluding herself. She was privy to the inner workings of the government, the so called suicides, accidental deaths. Rape. Murder. Insest. Arson. All part of Valentina's utopia.
Belladonna tried to delude herself, but her first Hunger Games was coming up. I am not sinful. Amhurst is good. She took another sip of her wine. I am a good mother. I have raised a good child. She tilted the glass back. I am not truly rebellious. I am just drunk. I am not thinking clearly. The wineglass was almost empty now. Belladonna reached for the bottle. My daughter is simply a contributing member of society, not a blind soldier. I have not wasted my life working to orchestrate murder. This is not a dystopia. I am just crazy now. Things will go back to normal.
Valentina would kill her now, Belladonna realized. Her daughter did not care for her. Tears burned in Belladonna's eyes. She was not family, she was truly loyal to the government. (I am not loyal to you, mother! You have never cared for me, not at all! You gave birth to me, it is your duty to raise me, not get drunk, cloud your head and mangle the Games! I have withdrawn all money from my trust fund and I'm moving out. Have fun with your failure of a friend, Silex!)
They talked, some, knowing that it was not uncommon the Capitol for this to happen. It happened a year ago, and the wound was still gaping. Her husband, Clatus, had taken Tempest and was pushing him to be a Peacekeeper. Belladonna sighed loudly, tilting the wineglass in her hand and watching the liquid fall back and forth. I thought alcohol would help me escape my problems. Not bring them all back. The wounds were open, bleeding and infected.
"You okay? I called and you didn't respond." A hand landed on her shoulder, gentle. She didn't even know anyone was in her apartment.
"Silex?" He was the only one with keys. He was an old friend from Cyprus, and the exact opposite of her in every way. He was kind, nice, content with helping the new Gamemakers learn the ropes. He wasn't intelligent either, but neither was she. He got on well with Valentina, applauded her speeches, showering her with smiles and praise. Valentina's disdain was clear, however.
Silex was liked by many people, and may have been the only one there without a long string of scandals behind him. He was simple, and kind, and able to be oblivious to how toxic the whol Capitol was...
"Yes," he joked, shaking her slightly, "I am Silex Winchester, your friend."
Belladonna laughed. He was pretty, she thought. Gold hair that fell to his shoulders and blue eyes she knew couldn't possibly be real but were beautiful anyways.
"Friend, yes," Belladonna uttered, "Didn't think those existed here."
"What happened?" Silex asked, naive as ever.
"Sad," Belladona sighed, making a sweeping gesture with her arms. Wine spilled out of the glass onto the rug.
"Why?" Silex lightly touched her cheek. She had just gotten surgery on those, to make her face seem more round. Youthful. Innocent.
"You don't realize?" Belladonna said distantly, hoping that her judgement and thoughts were clouded and she didn't really believe this, "Everything's lost. Everything's empty."
Silex smiled, gentle and kind as ever. Belladonna returned the grin, more to placate him than anything else. "You're drunk. I smell the alcohol on your breath. Just wake up and you'll be sane again."
"I think I might love you." I want you to make me clean again. I want you to take this out of me.
Silex just laughed.
A/N: I'm pretty unsure about this chapter so PLEASE tell me what you think. Do you want more of Belladonna and Silex or no? Let me know in the reviews. Also, someone asked me to post the tributes that have been submitted. I need some more males, there are tons of Districts available for them. So PLEASE don't just submit girls and don't just submit tributes with dark and tragic backstories. Having twenty-four orphaned tributes who all have prior training experience and can wield swords and knives is a statistical improbability. I LOVE cunning tributes from the Outer Districts (Johanna and Foxface, anyone?) but please don't make them all the same. But, I appreciate ALL submissions, and don't let this mini-rant put you off. I hope to get the Games started soon :)
District One Male: Tobias Mason (nebetb34)
District One Female: Ruby Chance (We're All Okay)
District Two Male: Maro Linwood (upsettowncat42)
District Two Female: Astrid Calloway (Mary Queen of Scots)
District Three Male: OPEN
District Three Female: OPEN
District Four Male: OPEN
District Four Female: OPEN
District Five Male: OPEN
District Five Female: Tesla "Tess" Mitchell (wolvesareawesome13)
District Six Male: Elton Fernit (Kkfanatic22)
District Six Female: Arisa Wertnic (Krisy45)
District Seven Male: OPEN
District Seven Female: Sloan Ashmore (popcorn-codes)
District Eight Male: OPEN
District Eight Female: OPEN
District Nine Male: OPEN
District Nine Female: Cyme Samora (PsychoLuna)
District Ten Male: Ace Wolfe (Wincestcher)
District Ten Female: Isadora "Issy" Lomax (Queen of Colours)
District Eleven Male: OPEN
District Eleven Female: Elizabeth Roots (Jose12)
District Twelve Male: OPEN
District Twelve Female: Cassia "Cassie" Rivers (Wincestcher)