Life for victors is still hard.
Nobody wins the game; there are only survivors.
Johanna knows that well since her win in the 68th game and her family suffering the consequence of her not bending the knee to the Capitol.
She grew cold, distant, and s...
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Shtunk.
District 7 is one of the thirteen districts of Panem. Large swats of the region are covered with pin trees and the citizens are known to be skilled with axes.
The axe stuck deep into the trunk of a tree but it wasn't any random tree, not one that was to be fed through the system to create the Capitol's luxurious furniture.
This tree grew in a back garden of the victors village, more priceless then any other tree around it, in the garden of the winner of the 46th hunger games.
"Harder!" The gruff man commanded, not pleased by the sloppy throw.
Unlike many, he didn't drown his pain away in alcohol or in drugs, he drowned it in duty, a duty he needed to fulfill for himself.--Shtunk--. And towards his family.
"That's better." He rubbed his chin, scraggy beard already going white at only 41 from living the life of a victor.
He promised himself to never have children, not fuel the machine, but love is a powerful driver that no one can do anything against.
"Ha! Heck yeah!" Paige threw her arm up in the air at his comment. "Try to do better now Marcus!" She pointed at the boy, chuckling to herself.
The 46th winner, Brent Halavey, looked at his daughter, Paige Halavey, one more month and she is out of the list of people that can be reaped, turning 19 right after the reaping ceremony.
His son tho, Marcus Halavey, still had a long road that seemed endless in front of him, being 16, 3 possibilities of being picked.
He lost their mothers to sickness, literally having worried herself in such a pitiful state after she saw her younger sister be reaped that the doctors said she died of a broken heart. That's when Brent last touched a drop of the Whisky that was his only friend for years, he had things to do.
And so he relived his games day by day, training his children in the hope that, if they'd have the misfortune to be reaped, that they would come back to him alive and victorious.
The children never got to experience the life of the others of district 7, not working, training for eventually being reaped, everyone called them 7's careers and the Capitol loved it.
The Capitol did whatever they wanted so, when they inevitably dragged Brent back to once again have him talk about his games, the children came along since 'How can we leave children without their parent's protection?', and they'd always say that, Brent only got them out of the spot light when they hit 12 and even then there were moments they went with him, stating he needed to train them to make the Capitol stop demanding them to constantly come, that's where the nickname came from.
Marcus stepped up, Brent having removed the thrown axes from his daughter from the tree trunk so he had a clean target, handing the axes to his son.
Marcus was much gentler then his sister, his curly light brown hair, puffy cheeks and baby blue eyes could fool everyone, even Brent, making him forget for a moment his son was trained to kill and all the way until-- Shtunk-- One of the boy's axe hit the tree to remind him.
"Ha! You lose!" Paige said, unlike her brother, she had a spunk to her, a fire worthy of the blaze that destroyed district 12s almost yearly output in one night two years ago, her darker brown hair matched her father's, tied in a lower pony tail with maybe a hands length of hair to it, a slightly rounded face only, more angular, eyes a darker blue too, like the ocean that was looking to drown you, she was also a head taller then her brother, a quick learner.
He looked at the kids with arms crossed as they bickered, Paige pulling her brother in a soft choke hold as they smiled, just a few more years and he'll be grateful for this useless training.
As a victor, a well known and loved man, he had gotten away with 'heinous' things or took the punishment silently, his children having much less of their names in the bowls then they should because of their ages, he took the risk and it paid off.
Still, dread was settling in, the reaping would occur and as always, he'd hold his breath each time that silk covered hand reached in a bowl.
Each year he felt like he was dying again.
He looked over his shoulder at the victor house right next to his, the only other victor of district 7 still alive, so many had chosen to kill themselves.
Not him, not her.
Johanna Mason, the official mentor of district 7 as Brent was not desirable to look at anymore, trying to be pushed to be forgotten.
If any of his kids were reaped, they would have to deal with the brash woman who had little to no chance of getting on anyone's good side, not that she wanted to and he knew it, he only was lucky enough to comply and have his family safe.
He looked at Paige.
And he was terrified, a fear he only felt when he took on the last four, the career pack, in his own game, alone, with only minutes left to live if he failed. It was such a gut clenching fear that it left him paralyzed. Fear that made him want to scream and bellow, to dig his own grave and finally take that nightlock pill president Snow soooo graciously gave him for his 'hard times'. A fear that was worth dying for.
The fear that he saw just how similar Paige was to the female victor, same spunk, same spark and same determination to follow only what she wanted.
Brent was terrified that if she was reaped, she'd leave a bigger impact then Johanna ever could have.
"Kids, back to training." He called, clapping his palms with a loud sound to gain their attention. "I was three bullseye in a row before any of you move on to anything."
Brent Halavey was terrified of his daughter's spark
