𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 | 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟕𝟔𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 ✔️

𝕀

When I heard my own tribute, Lacie Greenly, explain my story in the simplest of terms, I realized that even she didn't realize that that the boy she was talking about was myself. The boy who gave everything he had for those he loved, only to lose them forever. I realized that my own history was slipping away from me before my very eyes.

I may not be the youngest Victor out there - anyone can tell you that. I've endured 50 Reapings as a Victor. Countless children have been sent to their death under my supervision, and only a lucky few have come out the other end.

Everyone in District 4 knows my name. I'm as ingrained within District 4 as the Hunger Games are within the culture of Panem. Many of the citizens of my District couldn't imagine a reality where I wasn't the Victor of the 76th Hunger Games. But, that was almost the case. I almost died, and I was almost left behind in the history of the Games like so many other kids. Like Aurora, who despite my best efforts has been forgotten by those closest to her.

I now realize that I owe it not just to myself but also to so many others to share my story. For the 23 children just like me who couldn't be the lucky one to return home and see their family just one more time.

It brings back so many vivid and painful memories, of course. It's been over 50 years since I entered the Arena, and I will never, ever forget it.

The first time you heard my story, it was in a few short paragraphs. Lacie didn't even mention my name - I don't think she knew I was the boy she was talking about. Everything in her story was so simple. If only that was how it actually occurred.

Where else could this story begin other than the day the war ended? The day everything changed. Nothing was the same after that fateful day.

Rising from the Ashes - The 76th Hunger Games

I wipe the slick sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand as the fishing boat unties from the dock, sailing back out to sea. Fresh in its place is another ship, and a sailor quickly jumps to the dock, tying the boat in.

"Let's go, keep it moving!" Owen, my supervisor, barks as my crew and I enter the ship. There are crates of supplies from District 11 along with fish from the sea on-board, and I waste no time in hauling crates from the deck to the dock, where another crew will sort and transport them within the District.

There are a few seamen aboard the ship, and they help me pick the first of the crates up. "Be careful with these," one of them says. "It's fragile."

I step out of the ship and back into the sunlight, a crate of grapes in hand, when I notice something is different than when I walked onto the ship. Asher, my closest coworker, collides with me, swearing, but he pauses too when he notices something is wrong. The docks are deserted. Where did everyone go?

I see a man running frantically to the ship.

"Hey!" I wave him over. "What's going on? Where is everyone?"

He looks like he's about to pass out. "The war's over," he pants. "We lost."

Asher and I exchange a quick glance before we take off in a sprint back to the village.

Sue me, okay? I skip the mandatory broadcasts every day from the Capitol. Why would I watch Capitol broadcasts when District 4 is in control of the rebels? There aren't any Peacekeepers left here to enforce the mandatory viewing, and I quite frankly don't care enough about Capitol affairs or the war to watch anything from either side. I'm just trying to make enough money to support myself and my girlfriend. Now I'm regretting my decision.