The End of Innocence: The 72nd Annual Hunger Games

Last Words from My God

The first thing I do when I reach my floor is rush into Lesa's bedroom. I run right by the prep-team who stand drunk together and into her room. Her entire room is left exactly the way she left it. Clothes scattered on the floor, hair products and makeup brushes on her desk.

I lock her door behind me and I lean against the door frame. I begin to think of Lesa. How she was here with me two weeks ago, and now she's gone. Tears automatically flow down my face without warning or prediction. I put my palms on my face and wipe the tears away. 

Outside, celebrations are being held throughout the entire Capitol. Here, the citizens are drinking and staying up late. They'll be making toasts to my name and re-watching special recaps. The celebrations do not stop until I'm crowned. Then we return to the same routine until next year. The streets below me are filled to the brim, even bigger than the night before the Games. It is a Saturday, a day that nobody works here.

I can only think what it's like at home. At home, only my family will be celebrating. Lesa's body is already shipped back, so by tomorrow, she'll already be buried. I'll miss her funeral because I have to wait here. As her funeral is on, I'll have to return to The Avenue of The Tributes, I'll be crowned by The President, and then I go home. Of course, I have the choice to stay here. Forever. No returning back, I can have a place in a very very high-end apartment. But of course, I see no reason to ever return to this place.

I sit on her desk that lies beside the giant window. People are dressed up in various costumes, people are wearing 'District 9' Arena costumes, even little kids are running around with glasses in their hands. I move away from the window and walk slowly to her bed. I'm not allowed to run until my stomach heals, so technically, I still should be using my crutches. Which will be in a few months. 

I ease myself up onto her bed and lie flat. I can still smell her through the dirty sheets. I feel like I shouldn't be here at all, I feel like I'm invading her privacy. So many thoughts rush through my head, imagining Lesa's cutthroat body being sent back in a simple wooden box, imagining the pain District 9 has to feel yet again, for another year. I don't know what their reaction will be when they see me. They'll be happy, surely, but I wonder how they'll see me now. They viewed me as an Official's son, and now they'll put John on a lower pedestal than me. I'd love to write this all in my diary. My diar-

I gasp. I know I shouldn't. It's an invasion of privacy but I feel so compelled to see if Lesa wrote anything in hers. Should I look?  What if she wrote a letter for me in there like I did for Father and John. I asked Mandrel to dispose of my diary when he asked me did I want it back, I don't want to read it. Mandrel seems awfully nice to me, what if he read it? Well, he feels sorry for me anyway for having to go through all this.

I lean over and I check the desks beside her bed. Nothing. I ease off the bed and I shuffle over to her desk by the window. When I open it, I'm greeted by the same little white book that I had. I smile. I hope she wrote something in it. I flip open the first page and the date is in the upper corner. It was from the first night we arrived.

"Day 1. Dear, whoever the hell is readin'. My name is Lesa Reen and I want to tell you my story, even tho' I ain't-a fan of them. My plan is to stick as solitude as possible. My District Partner is some kid called Max. Mom told me how he's skilled from being in the fields. And me, nothin'. Little does she kno' that me and Merconia Bemdiet's Papa would teach us useful snares and skills in case we ever got chosen. Good thing he did, right?

I hope to fuck these next days will come quick, because I just want to get in there, and try fight off whoever. I know I look like a tough bitch, but I know these next few days will bring me weaker because everyone will get best friends with everyone and they'll gang up on me. I just hope that Max one stays away from me, because I know I'm gonna' get attached. L-."

So Lesa hated me at the start? I just can't help but smile, even on paper, her personality is coming through stronger than them spotlights shining on me. I flip the page, she skipped the days that seem to be of training. The next entry is on the night of the interviews.

"Well I am fucked. Suppose I should say I'm attached to Max, and some boy Coil from District 3. He seems good, but I know I have to use him as bait. He's as idiotic as a bird jumping into a cat cage. His District Partner's getting along great with Max, she seems very reasonable and she sure is skilled in ropes and other snares. She'll come in handy. Coil, I don't think so. One thing about him is that he sure can talk, which will be good for the cameras. The Games are tomorrow, I know something will kill me that it shouldn't. I feel it. Becuz' I know I'm gonna lower my guard cos of Max. He'll protect me though. Won't he?

"I just hope there's somewhere to go when you die. Lately I'm thinking not so much. What 'power' would allow us to die for an act of sacrifice? I know I'll survive through this. The explosions outside are annoying the fuck out of me, I can't even sleep. It's very early in the morning, I won't get enough sleep. I know Max is awake and able. I can hear him. I hope if I don't win, he does. He better not do sum' stupid to get Mom killed. I know she loves me but I've lost faith in her and Selma after she promised me Selma would volunteer for me. What's done is done. I hope he changes the way everyone thinks about these Games. Fuck Panem today, fuck Panem tomorrow, and ultimately fuck Panem forever. He will be the face of change. I know he will. He better, because if he thinks I'm not gonna' be the next Victor to speak out, he's got another thing coming. I love him. He will win. For me. For District 9. I'm going out to talk to him. Wish me luck tomorrow. L-."

As I get to the end of the only two pages she wrote in it, I notice how tears are coming down my face. She really wanted me to win. I hold the diary tight and kiss the cover. I wipe the tears away and make a mental note that I'm going to bring this back, maybe get those word professionally woven onto a page so I can keep these forever. Lesa Reen will always be in my heart. Just like I was in hers, her last day. I walk over to the door and unlock it. I know this was all an act of accepting. I've accepted she's gone. She loved me that's all that matters.