So far, my victory tour has sucked. I've refused to speak with my stylist – despite Blight's pleas to get me to do so, and I've done my own makeup – which I've been getting increasingly good at. We've finished Districts 12 to 6, skipping past my own district – the one place I'm definitely not looking forward to going as part of my victory tour. In each place my speech has been the same. Just like Snow's already pre-written speeches for each hunger games.
"It has been an honor," I say, in my most monotone voice, looking at the large screens that display the fallen tributes. It was easier in districts where I haven't personally done anything to any tribute, like 11, or 8, but it was so much harder in 12, where I saw the girls face looking back at me, or 6, where the tribute I killed with just a flick of my wrist stared back at me. Their families stared at me too.
"An honor, to have fought amongst such valiant and brave contenders, and even though I have emerged victorious, I must pay heed to the sacrifices of my fellow tributes. I offer my deepest condolences," I would continue, now my speech requiring me to look at the families of the fallen and give them some shitty scripted words which would bear no comfort for any of them. To say I hated it was an understatement. What made it feel even worse? I shouldn't be the one to pay heed to their sacrifices – I barely even know them.
I don't even know their names.
Another thing I don't like about the tour? Because this is something that I can go on and on about, it's the name. It's called the victory tour. But that name implies that someone won, an implication which cannot be more false; there are no victors in these games. Not when those who do come out are plagued with nightmares and trauma and a sudden urge to find the nearest cliff and throw themselves off of it. There are only survivors.
"my deepest condolences. I promise to remember them, and their families, as I step forward in my journey. For they will never be forgotten. Their names will be etched in our memories forever." I say, and then peacekeepers escort me back to the train, where I will stay until dinner that night with the victors of that district. So far, it has been one or two victors per district – the lower districts. But now we are getting to the career districts, where dinners will involve a lot of people who hate me – because I've killed at least one tribute from each career district. Imagine that.
District 4. I've finished the speech, and I've finished the wait in the train, where I did nothing but look out the window just like I've done for every other district. I can tell the fact that I've not chucked a dinner knife at one of them unsettles both Blight and Rosaline, but I can't bring myself to touch the knife, much less hurl it at someone. It's better when I'm with my family. Because I'm not forced to think about the hunger games – only what to make for dinner, and whether I should drop some stuff down at the Mason's house.
When I step outside the train again, I fully intend on doing what I do at every party – fill a glass full of water, because I refuse to drink after living with my father for twelve years, and sit by the ladies restroom, which is one of the quietest places I can find, interrupted only by some people who come to puke out what they've eaten so they can continue stuffing themselves again.
This time, however, I get interrupted.
"You look like you're having the time of your life." A voice comes from behind me. A voice I know quite well. Finnick Odair.
"Four."
"Seven, I told you I was rooting for you."
I scoff. "Oh please. You don't have to flirt with me, Four. I'm not another capitol girl you need to seduce. I know I killed one of your tributes."
He seems a little hurt at that. "Sure. You did. I killed both tributes form 7 in my games. We do what we got to do don't we?"
I'm taken aback at the ease at which he talks about his games. About killing people. Frankly, I'm a little bit scared.
A silence passes between us, but I'm too preoccupied by his words to fill it. He seems to give up on me because he's about to leave. But before he can, "Did you cry?" I blurt out, the words slipping out of my mouth before I can stop them.
"What?" He asks softly, turning back towards me wearily.
"After your games; did you cry?"
He scoffs, but his hesitance to answer my question gives me the answer I need. Who is he? Who doesn't cry?
"Do you even know their names?" I whisper out softly, frozen in place. I'm a hypocrite.
He takes a gulp from his drink. "Do you?"
I stare at him.
"I thought so. Don't make me out to be the only villain here, Kendria. You killed people too. All of us have. You're not some saint. If you've survived the hunger games, it means you've killed. And if you've killed it means you're a monster. You're one of us now. Don't try and kid yourself into believe that you're better." He snaps angrily.
"I wasn't. I know I'm a monster. I don't need you to remind me of that. I was hoping you weren't."
He sighs. He steps closer to me.
"The nightmares. The blood. I can't even take a shower anymore. How the hell do you deal with it? I didn't think it would be so hard." I tell him, as he moves even closer.
"You don't. You just have to pull it together if you want to."
"Of course, I want to! I went into the games for my family! And now even though I'm out of it, my mind refuses to let me forget. It plays the same thing again and again. I'm as good as gone." I scream.
"Nobody's ever out of the games, Kendria. I'm gone too" He tells me, so close now that I can feel his breath on the top of my head. He lifts his hand and slowly brushes a strand of hair out of my face.
"We can be gone together then," I tell him softly, and he envelops me in a hug I wish would last forever.
-
I'm in the bathroom the week after my tour. The tour was terrible, but now I'm back home. Safe. As I look in the mirror, something I didn't have ever previously, I look at myself. But my eyes have sunk into my skin and my skin itself is paler than it used to be. I'm not getting enough sleep, but I didn't think it would be so evident. And then I see my hair. It tumbles down till my mid back in soft curls, the only thing that's somewhat untouched about me. But that's wrong. I remember the tribute from district four pulling at my hair as though it's his only lifeline – his only chance. The girl from two using my hair as a weapon to drag me deeper and deeper into the water, leading to her death. My hair shouldn't be this perfect. Not when the rest of me is so damaged. So, broken.
"Lia! Lia, can you get me some scissors?" I call, and she responds in the affirmative, thudding down the stairs loudly. She appears at the door of the bathroom, which I haven't closed, and hands me the scissors.
"Thanks Lee," I tell her, brushing her hair back. It's lightening up with age, something which mine didn't so it looks more like mom's hair. I'm glad. "Why don't you drag Danny and go see Jo?" I ask, closing the door behind her, and turning back to the mirror. And then I grab a chunk of my hair and cut it off.
After I finish my jagged haircut, the doorbell rings.
I appear in front of the door after a few minutes, only to let out a gasp to see the person in front of me.
"President Snow." I breathe, stepping aside to let him in. Peacekeepers surround our house, increasing my confusion further. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" I ask, though I'm sure he is not fooled by my pretense of kindness. The entire room can sense the venom in my voice.
"Kendria. Wonderful haircut," He starts, making himself at home on my sofa. I move to stand in my kitchen, leaning on my breakfast counter. After another moment, "You've been a great success in the Capitol."
I'm wary. Surely the president of Panem wouldn't come all the way to district 7 to tell me the Capitol was enthused by my performance?
"Ms. Parstons," I correct him in a low voice. "Can I get you anything to eat, Mr. President?"
"No, I'm quite alright, Ms. Parstons," He says, heeding my warning. "I wanted to discuss your future, as a victor. There are many in the capitol who've taken a liking to you, Ms. Parstons. I'm sure even you recognize that. Despite the unfortunate mess-up regarding the interview costume, people seem to believe that you are something else."
"I'm not sure what you want from me, President." I tell him, my voice is restricted.
"What I want form you, Ms. Parstons, is cooperation. Both of us can benefit immensely if you accept this offer. You offer capitol people the pleasure of your company, in exchange, of course, for anything you please."
"the pleasure... The pleasure of my company?" I ask quietly, even though I've realized exactly what he wants. He wants to sell me for the pleasure of greedy men in the capitol. He wants them to violate me in exchange for material goods that I have way too much of already.
"I'm sure, Ms. Parstons, that you're smart enough to grasp my meaning."
"And if I decide that this isn't the direction I want to go?" I ask, my voice wavering slightly.
"You are, of course, free to do so." He tells me, but something in his voice makes me hesitant to say no. I'm about to open my mouth, say that I won't do it, but he speaks again. "Lia and Danny, your lovely siblings, they're outside right now? Correct?"
They'll kill them.
"Yes." A tear slips down my face and he smiles at me, sadistically. "I'll do it."
"Brilliant. I'm glad we could reach a mutual agreement." He tells me, rising from his seat. I stay planted to my place, unable to move. He exits with no other words, closing the door behind him. I watch as all the peacekeepers file out of my sight, and then with shaking hands, I pick up the phone.
I breathe out as it rings.
"Finnick?"
Published: 29 March, 2023