the ruler [THE HUNGER GAMES]¹

One.

JULY fourth. Exactly a year ago today my name was called to take part in the Hunger Games. Now i'm here to mentor somebody else through the whole ordeal, and even though i've had a year to prepare myself, no part of me is ready for this task. I'm a victor now, living in the overpopulated victors village with my mother. My neighbour is Jacinth, and across the street from me is the extravagant house of Enobaria. It's strange, living amongst those who have taught you for years and with whom you have watched countless Capitol propaganda shots about. Sometimes I forget I'm one of them now.

"Fawn, would you come down for breakfast? I want to cook you one last meal before you're away for a few weeks again," my mother, Ilana Cutler, begs me for the tenth time this morning. She is taking well to the lavish lifestyle that I have gifted her with. We were amongst the poorer people in Two before I went and won us a lifetime of riches in exchange for trauma that still wakes me up with violent nightmares every night. An academy aged daughter with one parent meant that all my mother could really do for work was from home. She was never considered for the factories or peacekeeping; never good enough to be a tribute, like me.

Often times, before I won the Games, she made it clear that our situation was my fault. If we went a night with less to eat or she had to go out begging for more clothes to fix up, it was because of me. She thinks that I have forgotten this now that we are comfortable and she lives amongst all the people she wishes she got the chance to be. I haven't forgotten. For the most part, I ignore her attempts to play pretend-good-parent and just get on with it. No point in arguing now, and whilst she still lives with me the Capitol can not treat me like the adult they wish I was.

I have two hours before I am expected to be up on stage to collect the female tribute who will be in the Games this year. For your first year of mentoring it is mandatory to represent one tribute, after that I can take or leave the job. However, from my conversations with Jacinth, it looks like this position is mine until we have another victor. Enobaria, Brutus and every other victor from Two apart from Jacinth and I have a pretty serious role within the training academy here in Two, or have sold themselves to the life of a Capitol citizen. With them working, we are the only two left with the job of actually trying to get them through surviving the games.

It could be worse. I could be like Haymitch from District Twelve. He is the only victor from there in sixty-three years and has had to watch over fifty of his tributes die in the years since his victory in the second Quarter Quell. I met him briefly on my victory tour. He is an alcoholic wreck who I assume was only at my celebrations because of the abundance of booze available.

My mother is calling me again, so I finally peel out of bed and throw on what will be my reaping outfit. It's much different to last year where I was in a purple dress handed down from my mother that is now long lost in the Capitol, probably on display in the museum that was my arena. This year I wear loose fitting beige pants and a tight vest top that tucks into them. How I've changed since then. My child-like body had matured greatly in the year since my reaping. Ive not grown in height much, but every other proportion on me is more womanly. If the Capitol had no problem putting me in skimpy outfits last year, I'd like to see what they think of me now. I scoop up my long brown hair as I skip down the large wooden steps into the kitchen where my mother awaits.