So now that Journey to the Top is officially on it's last two chapters, it was time to update this story. I'll have short intros to the trainers coming to you this week. Up first, meet Iris.
Still needing submissions…
I heard you cry,
I watched you die,
Every night in your sleep.
I was so young,
you should have known better
than to lean on me.
Iris Dupree, 28
District 2
Victor of the 290th Games
All of these channels have the same thing on them. How many different ways can you show a Doctor that gets their life ruined on a regular basis? I'm beside myself with thoughts. The television is supposed to be the thing that numbs your mind, and keeps you from thinking about things to hard. And when I'm able to think, I travel back to one thing.
How dare they?
Did these girls not travel back through time, space, and whatever the hell ever to stop things like the Hunger Games? Did they not lose someone in the process, and then stop the Hunger Games because it was "wrong" and an "injustice"? What do they think they're trying to pull reinstating them? Dead tributes or not, I hate this idea. I hate them. I can't believe we elected that monster into po-
A knock at the door pulls me away from my thoughts. Good, I didn't need to feel that anger. It was beneficial when I was in the games, but now it just makes for bad manners. As I've grown older, I realized a number of things about myself.
One of them being I'm my own worst enemy.
I open the door and see Chanel Lourd standing on my porch. She smiles brightly as I slam the door back into her face.
"I want nothing to do with you, Chanel." I say as I reach down and lock the door.
"Iris, we need to talk, and I think you'll like what I have to say."
"I won't like what you have to say because I don't like you. Leave my property."
It's silent for a minute. I wait by the door and see if she walks away, but it isn't long before I hear her take a deep sigh in and knock again.
"What part of "go away" don't you get?" I ask.
"Iris, don't make me do it." she says.
"You're going to have to if you want in my house." I say.
I hear a foot stomp and sharp intake of breath as the girl on the outside of my door is clearly frustrated. She knocks one more time in hopes that she won't have to pull the card she's about to, but I refuse to open the door for anything less.
"As Vice President of Panem, I command you to open your door."
I roll my eyes and unlock the deadbolt. Not bothering to actually open the door I let her stroll in. She's wearing a white scarf over her blonde hair with a white romper. She has a pair of white heels on as well, with a golden necklace that dips to her mid stomach. Her black purse, and sunshades are the stand out of her outfit. She rolls her eyes upon seeing me and walks straight to the couch.
"It's not even your property. If it wasn't for the Victor's Protection Act, you wouldn't have this lovely house. So technically it belongs to me."
"Cool, you can have it back." I say as I walk over to the living room area and sit on the couch opposite of Chanel. "I would offer you some sort of refreshments, but I'm hoping you won't be here long."
She rolls her eyes as she opens her purse and takes out a packet of paper and lays it before me. I don't bother picking it up, because honestly I don't care what it is. I'm not signing it.
"Aren't you going to read it?" she ask
"No." I say with a shrug.
"Fine, then let me read it to you." she says as she picks it up from the table. "By order of the President Rachel Callowgwey, Iris Dupree is hereby charged with a task of highest honor. Watching and training the tributes from infancy into the time of their 18th Birthday where they will enter the games-"
"Absolutely not."
She sits the paper down and sighs as she stares at me in the face. You can see that she isn't happy about this situation either, and I actually start to feel for the girl. She's just as trapped as we are in this. We are under a new dictator.
"You don't have to be the Vice President." I tell her.
"I've already been recruited. It comes down to the fact that we need a combat and strategic expert. You're the best, Iris. No one comes close to your record of kills per game. 9 kills is an outstanding number."
I flinch thinking about the lives I took in those games. Cara was first. She was a 14 year old from District 5. Followed by Ezeikel of District 7, a 16 year old. Lorenzo was a 13 year old from District 3. Emily the 18 year old from 12. Yael from District 6, she was 12. Micah the 18 year old from 1. Chantelle the girl from 1, also 18. Henery from District 8, he was 15. Then Micah, my district partner.
"I'd rather not think of those who I've destroyed, Chanel."
She leans back in her chair and crosses her legs. She flips through the pages until she reaches the last six pages and reads off a list of benefits if I were to take the job. They include insurance, a brilliant salary, vacation days, and even holidays off.
"I'm still not interested." I say.
"I was afraid you would say that."
She turns to the last page, and on it reads out the terms if I deny the contract. I'd lose my house, lose my income, I wouldn't be able to reside in the Capitol...who does this President think she is? She gives me no choice, while disguising it as giving me one.
"She wants the best, Iris." says Chanel as she smiles lightly to me. "You're the best."
Is my morals really worth all of these benefits? The old Iris would say, yes. The Iris before the games would be all over this. More glory for her. More time for her to be in the spotlight. To look around at all of the people of Panem and say, "Here I am! Notice me!".
I'm not that girl anymore though. I'm a 28 year old woman who has had to live with her past for 10 years now. Looking back, I would never want to train someone to do what I was trained to do. Killing people for sport isn't a game. A game is supposed to be fun, leave you feeling rewarded and happy. I felt broken after my time in the arena. I felt used.
But where would I go?
I have no family. They all abandoned me after winning. After seeing the bloodlust in my eyes. I haven't seen them for years. I don't have many friends, just other Victors. After hearing that I'm in bad with the new President though, they're bound to not help me.
I'm officially stuck between a rock and hard place.
Chanel takes a pen and slides it over to me. It's a bright pink pen with flowers on it, and the pen ink smells like the perfume she uses. She takes the packet and flips it to the very back page, and right under the terms for denying the contract, is a place for me to sign.
I take the pen and click it, and sign my name to the contract. Chanel sighs in relief and signs the witness lines under it.
"I'm glad you made this choice. I didn't want to have to take you down." she says.
"I just signed my soul over to the devil. I'd like to spend my last few weeks alone if you will."
She gets up and nods and wraps her head in the scarf. Placing the sunglasses on her face, she opens up my door and glances back at me. She gives me a light smile that says she's sorry without using words, and she exits the house.
"Well, Iris," I say out loud. "If you weren't going to hell already. You sure are now."
I guess I haven't changed from the girl that won the games 10 years ago.
What did you think of Iris? She'll be a fun mentor to hear about later. I have two new people, and then I'll have some back up prologues ready to go until I get a completed tribute list.
If I don't have enough submissions in each spot by the 15th, I'll be extending the story deadline to the 20th. Form and submission list is on my profile.
Keep it classy,
Caleb