the ruler [THE HUNGER GAMES]¹

Nine.

WINTER hit District Two early and twice as hard as usual. Every day since the beginning of November a team of people from the village have plowed the road from where I live to the hustle and bustle of town. Luckily, with the victors village located so closely to the main area of District Two where the justice building and markets lie, I don't ever have to go far for anything. Sometimes I wonder what it would've been like to be raised in the rural mining villages or out on the borders of Five and Eight where you have to live off the land or make the weekly trek here.

The past months have consisted of very short, undercover phone calls with Finnick and Johanna where we discuss what is going on in Panem in a sort of code language. Other than that I have spent my first few months of proper freedom touching up on my knife throwing and spending time with Mace and his family. It gets a little tedious, especially when everybody else my age is going to school and the academy, but I also like that I can wake up whenever I like and do whatever I want. My seventeenth birthday is in four days, December 10th, and on the exact day that Katniss and Peeta end their victory tour in the Capitol. I was quite surprised when the invitation to attend slipped through my front door one day last week, but then Persephone assured me over the phone that it is common practise for the Victor of the games prior to this one to be invited. She told me to imagine it as a big birthday party. Jacinth is also invited, but only as the guest of a modelling company from the Capitol. I'm glad at least one person that I know will be there.

Now, victory tour preparations for Two are taking place in the square. Large banners with the flag of Panem strung up and the snow pushed aside with temporary floor heaters placed down so that no more can settle in its place. It looks drab compared to the efforts they made last year when I won, where there had been parades and buffets of food lining the streets, but it's not exactly going to be a happy occasion. Especially since we were runners up. Tomorrow will not be nice for anybody involved, which includes me.

Mace and I wander along the outskirts of the square, him trying to keep warm in a threadbare coat that must've belonged to his father and me with my woolen jacket, scarf and gloves. I tried to offer him the scarf but he said green wasn't his colour. The shop fronts display all sorts of holiday themed foods, cookies and meats and specially brewed coffees just for this time of year. In school they taught us that this time was once called Christmas, where gifts would be given and people would sing songs about reindeers and elves. Of course, when the climate surged and the planet was destroyed, what little was left of humanity didn't find it in them to celebrate such a thing anymore. Nowadays, the holidays just represent the two weeks at the end of the year where everybody is allowed off work and New Year's comes round.

"I don't know what to get you for your birthday," Mace admits as we stop to look in a tiny toy shop. The old man who owns it makes the most wonderful wooden creatures that move with strings or wheels. Neither of us had ever had one, but I had begged my mother as a young child until I finally understood her lack of care for my needs.