PLATINUM • THE HUNGER GAMES ²

| 01. BETRAYAL AND REVENGE

BOOK TWO
CHAPTER ONE

( BETRAYAL AND REVENGE )

GLISTENING ORANGE COLOURS slipped into my tired eyes as I gazed up into the warm aura of sunset. Work was busy at the ranch. Due to my hard work: people had been travelling to and from the town to trade from dawn to dusk every day. To be honest, I had never thought I would have to work this hard to earn my way and keep my house in the state it had been for almost two years. Even with the wealth I had, life was difficult. The Capitol trapped me in the ongoing battle of trying to keep a smiling, happy face in front of dozens of cameras, each and every year I had to revisit the place that handed me my worst fears on a golden platter. I didn't have anyone to help me, even the others were wearing off their sanity day by day as we acted as servants to the Capitol. It was not as easy as it seemed being a Victor.

I wrapped my palms around the warm furry neck of my dog - Everett -tying a lead around him, and began to trudge down the winding path back to the Victors Village. Leaves upon leaves covered the ancient pathway and it remained challenging to find the original cobbled floor so I tried my best to stick to the dirt walkway and not to trail off into the midst of the District. My Wellington boots clattered against the stone as the ranch filtered off into the horizon and the woods engulfed me in green. Darkness riddled the edges of the tree branches and the journey back home shortened as I walked.

Auburn sunlight began to reach the centre of my already tired eyes; the air was calm, not a whisper to be heard. It was rare to find this these days in any other place than the small outlining forests that were dotted around the District as crime was growing rapidly in the heavier populated areas and the Peacekeeping force had excelled quickly into public beatings, shootings and, if it seemed like it couldn't get any worse, torturing people before their families. Almost all hope of any calm days had deceased. I doubted that the Capitol would be expecting any more Victors from there for a long time. I doubt they even did anyway.

Through the dusty fog, the Victor's Village flickered into view between the cover of branches and leaves. It was about a kilometre-or-so away from the square in town, but it seemed to break free from the entire town as a separate community, as if it would never be touched by the pollution. Oak wood rimmed the outlining of the buildings as skyrocketing ivy weaved around them. I found it peculiar as to why more than half of the houses were desolate and only four were inhabited by actual District Ten citizens. That was, only Bradley, two others and I. Misty white roses lined the edges as the world grew nearer to summer and they scattered across the fields that surrounded it. It reminded me of the patch of fresh uncut daisies that grew wildly in the arena; like the last light in a tunnel of darkness.

As I drew closer to the dozen houses, one let of a particular warm glow of light and a line of smoke floated out of the chimney. Everyone seemed to be home at last. Everett tugged at his lead as we met with the mahogany door and I pushed it open. An eruption of chatter and laughter filled my ears as I settled my coat and boots down by the rack in the porch. Letting Everett free, tying his lead around the coat hanger and loosening my tight pony tail to let my hair flow down my back had appeared to become a daily routine after work had subsided. I trailed further into the depths of my house and, despite it being a relatively normal eve, I was somewhat flooded with happiness that the day had drawn to a conclusion.

Entering the living room, I appeared to have company, as I expected. Bradley bounded toward me, his balance unstable and he clutched a bottle of liquor in his hand. His hair was ruffled in a mess as he embraced me in an drunken fluster.

"Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be -" his voice slurred at each vowel he stumbled across.

"Bradley, you're drunk," I stated, cutting him off and shoving him back onto the sofa he had previously sat on.

He wiped his brow before continuing, "I know." His voice became childish as he replied in agreement. Bradley rarely drank anything, let alone achieving him to be drunk and, to be honest, I had almost seen it coming. The occasional bottle of beer by his bedside table, scavenging around the town centre trying to find something to do with his life, knocking on my door at twilight's hour complaining he couldn't wake anyone else up. It had all lead up to him making himself an emotional wreck. And, I tried to not think of it but, it was all my fault.

I gazed around at Corey - the second Victor to have come from the District. His dark, ginger hair was messy too, as if he hadn't been bothered to tidy it all day and his eyes stared back at me. But, he wasn't drunk. Corey would never be drunk. He fiddled around with a long knot of rope entwined in his fingers, yet he stopped to answer my question.

"Why is he drunk?" I asked him curiously, nodding towards Bradley's drained body planting itself to the warm leather sofa it lay scruffily upon. Corey remained in silence, as if the problem was obvious, and turned back to his rope. I couldn't help by sighing a disappointed sigh and slouching back into the comfortable spot I sat upon.

An awkward silence shifted through the room. Bradley was stark out on the opposite sofa, Corey was tying up the same old knot over and over again, and I was practically doing nothing. Like I pretty much always did in the evenings. I never got called up to the Capitol to run errands for people (not like I wanted to anyways), I was never sent to represent my year at events and nobody seemed like they wanted to know me. Ever since the shooting.

I remembered the first time I saw it on the television, a week or two after I had come home from the Games. I remembered how awful he quality of the signal was and I remembered how Bradley had wrapped me in his arms as I wept silently on his shoulder. And then I saw his face again after two months of starvation and death. It was like as if all the blood had drained from his eyes and he had no hope left of living. I didn't realise until later that he was joined by two others, or it could have just been myself to lifeless to care that it was both James' parents. Yet, as the three Peacekeepers stood behind the three most wanted people in District Ten for over four weeks when they journeyed towards the Capitol, I swore I saw them flinch as they pulled their triggers. I remembered how my father had died for the safety of me and I remembered how my anger for the Capitol was sparked that very day.

Although, now I don't even know how to comprehend that they want to put another callous twist into the tale; The Quarter Quell.

❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂