Rosemary Acker was pronounced victor of the 55th annual Hunger Games, however she didn't feel like a victor. The trauma and horrors of the games continues to haunt her for many years to come. Watching her friends die one by one, under the hands of P...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
District Five had once felt like home, a haven where Rosemary envisioned growing old and raising her children, even midst the turmoil of the Hunger Games. However, as she stepped off the train, returning from the Capitol, she couldn't help but feel that something had changed in District Five. The very air seemed different, charged with anticipation and expectation. Thousands of citizens had gathered, their voices united in a deafening cacophony, all of them eager to catch a glimpse of the young woman who had brought them a newfound sense of pride.
"Rosemary! Rosemary!" The crowd chanted her name, their cheers resonating with the overwhelming pride that victors brought to their districts.
Victor. The word echoed in Rosemary's mind, but she didn't feel like one. Deep down, she understood that she had emerged victorious from the brutal Hunger Games, but the title didn't sit comfortably on her shoulders. She kept her gaze fixed on the ground as the crowd parted, allowing her to make her way from the train station. She wished no one were there to greet her, to offer their congratulations. The Games had transformed her, and if she had once been the person they believed her to be, that person was now unrecognizable.
She noticed a single mother in the crowd. This woman, unlike the others, didn't join in the frenzied celebration. Instead, she offered Rosemary a sympathetic look, her eyes filled with understanding and compassion. But Rosemary couldn't bring herself to meet that gaze. Her own eyes, once filled with vitality, now appeared dull and lifeless. Feeling a sudden touch on her shoulder, Rosemary flinched, her body reacting instinctively to the contact. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, as if to shield herself from the world. These people, the ones cheering her name and offering their congratulations, they didn't know who she had been before the Games. How could they possibly understand the profound transformation she had undergone?
The woman's touch lingered for a moment longer before she slowly withdrew her hand, recognizing that Rosemary wasn't ready to engage. Rosemary continued to walk, her footsteps heavy and hesitant, as if each step carried the weight of the world. She couldn't bring herself to look up, to meet the eyes of those who saw her as a symbol of triumph. Inside, she felt like a stranger to herself, like an imposter wearing the guise of a victor.
As Rosemary walked, her eyes remained fixed on the gravel beneath her feet. The rough terrain was an uncomfortable reminder of her vulnerability, especially since she had only worn a pair of socks. Behind her, Quartz and Porter engaged in sporadic conversation, attempting to reach out to her. They had tried to engage Rosemary in conversation on the train, but she had retreated to her own compartment, shutting herself off from the world. It was no different now; she showed no interest in connecting with anyone.
The Games had left scars that ran deep within Rosemary's soul, and the Capitol had ruthlessly torn her heart open during the highly anticipated victory interview. The memories of watching her friends die in the arena still haunted her, and she felt a surge of nausea whenever she thought about taking another person's life, like the day she killed Collumbae. During the interview, she had glimpsed Haymitch and Porter in the audience, but their expressions were far from celebratory. They had seen her smile and laugh on screen, but they hadn't witnessed her immediate rush to the backstage, where she had vomited and splashed her face with cold water. They hadn't heard the whispered words that escaped her trembling lips. To them, she was only known by the name the Capitol had bestowed upon her - Bloody Mary.
