~ July 2, 76 A.D.D ~
Head Gamemaker – Caspian Montague, 32
It came as no shock to me when I was asked by President Snow to become the new Head Gamemaker – I'd been a vital member of the Gamemaker team for the past decade, suggesting ideas that would be celebrated for years to come, such as the dam collapsing during the 70th Hunger Games, and the wolf mutations, with the eyes of the dead tributes during the 74thgames. President Snow was proud of me and knew that I was the perfect choice to conduct what he wanted to be 'the most brutal games yet'.
He wanted to get back at the rebels for the war they'd raged on the Capitol last year, show them that if they wanted to rally, fight, and bomb the Capitol's children, they would watch their symbol of hope get assassinated and their children enter an arena their greatest nightmares couldn't even think of.
People were still defying the Capitol, painting the Mockingjay symbol around the districts, fighting peacekeepers... so I, with the permission of President Snow, had the intention of reclaiming this symbol, and turning it against the districts.
After these games, the people of the districts would see the symbol of the Mockingjay and think of how their children died seeing it. Seeing how that girl from District 12 whom they loved and trusted was dead and was now the reason their children were also dead. The games would become a psychological weapon, a demonstration of the Capitol's absolute power and control.
To achieve this, I meticulously planned every detail, ensuring that each moment would break the spirit of the tributes and, by extension, their families and supporters.
The Mockingjay symbol would be twisted and corrupted, a constant reminder of the futility of their rebellion. Every aspect of the games was designed to serve as a message: defiance leads to suffering, and any symbol of hope can be turned into an instrument of despair.
President Snow's trust in me was absolute, and I relished the opportunity to demonstrate my loyalty and creativity. These games were not just a punishment, but a spectacle of control, a demonstration that the Capitol's power was unbreakable. Every scream, every drop of blood, would serve as proof to the Districts of the Capitol's unbreakable power.
As the Head Gamemaker, I would ensure that these games would be unforgettable, etching terror and despair into the hearts of all who watched. I would ensure that these games would go down in history.
The Mockingjay would no longer be a symbol of hope, but a harbinger of death and suffering, its legacy forever tarnished by the horrors I would unleash.
~ July 3, 76 A.D.D ~
Victor of the 70th Hunger Games – Annie Odair, 24
I lay on the couch, holding him tightly to my chest. If I hadn't given birth to my son just a week ago I wouldn't be able to get through the Hunger Games. He was the only thing keeping me from doing something awful to myself.
I'd called him Finny. It made the most sense to me when he was born and I saw that he was a beautiful baby boy with his father's green eyes. After Finnick came home from the last Hunger Games, we told ourselves that if we ever had a daughter we'd call her Maggie, so it made sense for me to name my son after him.
I was to be a mentor these games – and I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with Finny while I was in the Capitol. He was just a newborn, surely I couldn't bring him with me? But it was really my only option because I didn't trust anyone else to look after him. The thought of leaving him behind made my chest tighten with anxiety. I'd lost enough people in my life, losing my son would be the end for me.
I glanced around our modest home, the familiar surroundings offering a brief respite from the overwhelming fear and uncertainty. I was living back in my home in Victor's Village of District Four, but I didn't have any neighbours anymore. It was incredibly lonely. And I had no one to talk to who would talk back to me because Mags was gone and Finnick was gone, and I was mad and everything hurt and I had nothing.
But I took a deep breath, and I focused on the warmth of my son in my arms, because I didn't have anything. I had a son, who I had to be there for. His small, steady breaths reminded me that I needed to be there for him. And I wanted to be a good mentor, because I wanted the tributes I mentored to be good tributes who could win, but I didn't know how to be a good mentor because I was mad and my main focus was on my son.
The train to the Capitol would leave the next afternoon, after the reaping, and I needed to make a decision. Bringing Finny with me meant exposing him to the harshness of the Capitol, but leaving him behind with someone in the District I perhaps used to be friends with was simply not an option. I didn't trust anyone anymore.
I just hoped the two people reaped in my own District weren't innocent kids who had no clue of the harshness of the Capitol, because after the rebellion, I knew that these games would be brutal. They would want to punish the districts in a way they'd never been punished before.
And what better way to do it than through an awful Hunger Games arena?
They were angry, but I was angrier. The Capitol had taken Finnick from me. So, whatever they had in store, I was ready. The tributes I mentored, I would get them all the way, I was determined.
Bring it on, Snow.
~ July 3, 76 A.D.D ~
Victor of the 74thHunger Games – Peeta Mellark, 18
You'd think after six months I'd be able to move on from her. You'd think I wouldn't still be having nightmare after nightmare, flashing back to her assassination. The way that it was what she'd wanted to happen to Snow that had happened to her and it had happened so suddenly, so brutally, she was dressed in her Mockingjay outfit and was slaughtered.
It was the most awful thing I'd ever seen – worse than two rounds of the Hunger Games, worse than seeing the explosion, worse than anything.
Every night I would relive it. Her eyes were wide with shock and pain, her body crumpling to the ground as chaos erupted around us. I could still hear the screams, the frantic shouts, the screams. I could still smell the scent of her blood, making me feel sick to this day.
And every night, I would wake up drenched in sweat, heart pounding, gasping for breath. The darkness of the small building that everyone in District 12 was living in was no comfort, everyone around me was on sleeping bags and tossing and turning with feelings of distress as well.
I'd tried everything to forget, to move on. I'd thrown myself into working on the rebuilding of District 12, but it was hard when the whole district seemed to be in a great depression
I could see her in every reflection, and hear her voice in every person I heard. The world felt colder and harsher without her. The cause we fought for, the freedom we wanted more than anything was completely gone without her there.
And the idea of the next Hunger Games didn't help at all. Everyone was terrified, even more terrified than they'd ever been for a Hunger Games in the past. It was obvious that the Capitol felt as if their power was at risk, so we all knew that they'd want to make a particularly brutal version of the Hunger Games this year.
I knew I'd be a mentor with Haymitch this year, and he told me to not get attached to the tributes because I would see them go through 'awful shit' once they got into the arena. But I wanted to help them – I wanted to do anything to get them through, whether that meant I had to beg sponsors on my hands and knees, I would do it. I didn't care.
It was my duty now, my responsibility to those kids, whoever they were, even if the thought of returning to the Capitol made my stomach churn. Every day I thought up a new possibility for an awful arena, and I put all my willpower into drafting them on paper, anything I could give to whoever was reaped.
Sometimes, I'd wander through the ruins of District 12, letting my feet guide me to the places that held memories of better times. The bakery was gone, but I could picture her sitting there that day when I gave her the leftover bread.
I didn't care what Haymitch thought. I'd be a good mentor – for the tributes.
And for Katniss.
Welcome to my SYOT for the 76th Hunger Games! All information is on my profile, and I'm keen to see what you all come up with and meet the cast of tributes!