Scarred | The Hunger Games

8.

"How did you feel? Gaining the first kill of the games? I mean none of us saw it coming, you had a 7. You never showed your strengths, except your looks of course."

My body? "I needed air. I never expected to need air in a Hunger Games, but I guess there's always a surprise in these Games."

"Of course, Nova. And air almost killed you in the end, let's see!" Caesar announced before the last clip of the games played.

I watched as I spat out the mouth gear, desperately kicking to the non-existent surface of the water. When Pearl's hand gripped my foot, I felt like her hand was still there, gripping on my foot. I shifted around, crossing my legs.

As I reached the surface and saw the bodies that they didn't collect, I threw up, before inhaling again. Then fainting, as Pearl's cannon goes off.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present your newest victor, the winner of the 72nd Hunger Games, Novalie Tream!"

They had to resuscitate me. As soon as they announced my victory, they immediately drained the water, but they still had to collect me. Cecelia tells me I flat-lined for two minutes. My wounds were infected by the nasty water, but of course, with Capitol grade medicine, it healed within hours. The scars are gnarly though.

"Such adrenaline, you know, it really kept us on the edge of our seats. Would Pearl, the girl made for this arena win, or Nova, the underdog survive. And of course, our Shark Biter did it!" The crowd bursts out laughing, and I join along, giggling manically. "And now you are the youngest victor to win the Hunger Games, along side Finnick Odair of course, and the youngest female victor to ever win. How does that feel?"

"Honestly, I'm surprised. I didn't expect to win. I was the underdog, one of the youngest, I didn't have any weapon training. But you guys can't get rid of me that quickly." I wink

Caesar laughs, "There's our comedian! Now, you won the shortest games in history, lasting only 40 hours. How did it feel? Especially when you were bleeding out from the shark bite?"

My breathe hitches, the image of guts spewing out replaying over and over. "God, I mean, I was horrified, scared of the mutt, but also, impressed with what the Capitol can produce, I mean, what brilliant minds do you have?" I flirt.

"Oh well, what can I say." Caesar winks. "Oh and what about that craftiness, making a spear out of shark teeth. What prompted that?"

"Well, I wanted to get back at it. I won't let a shark take me out, I took the shark out. And now I will become the shark."

"Of course of course. Especially since it took out your district partner, Otto. It must have fuelled you with so much motivation."

For the first time since the interview commenced, I didn't know what to say. "Uh- well. Otto deserved better, and I couldn't let his memory get stripped away by the shark. I made sure to take it back with me, take his memory back. Take him away from the monster that took him away from me."

Caesar offered me a pitiful look, one that was clearly over-exaggerated, fake even. "Well, our time is up once again Nova, but I promise that we'll meet again. Novalie Tream everyone, the winner of the 72nd Hunger Games, our little Shark Biter!"

I wave as I head off, before collapsing onto the ground weaving once out of sight. The memories, the pain, the survivors guilt, the eyes glazing over me, watching, waiting for answers. It was too much.

They put me in a two piece dress, the top having a low neckline and the bottom being low-waisted. I knew exactly what they were doing. They wanted to show off all the scars I got from the games. And for once I didn't know what the Capitol was aiming for.

Normally, they're disgusted by the mauled and jagged scars victors had, but this time, they enjoyed it, got off on it. I don't know if it was because they were in places that were intimate but it sickened me.

***

I wear a sickening smile, mirroring Snow's as he places the crown on my head. I wasn't too surprised to see how the crown was sharp, with multiple rows. If you hadn't watched my games, maybe you would have thought it looked like flower petals, especially since that was what Snow was known for. But I knew it was representative of shark teeth, since it was what I was known for.

"Congratulations, Miss Tream. You were definitely unexpected, an underdog in the games." He smiles.

"Thank you, President Snow." I try match his smile.

"I don't like underdogs." He continues, still wearing his smile.

My own smile weavers, my breathing picking up.

"But you, Miss Tream. You are one I can work with." Work with? "You're games were fun to watch, unique, different like yourself. With a pleasing result for Capitolites. Perhaps, you would like to continue pleasing Capitolites."

He can't possibly be asking what I think he is right? I mean, there is no way, that he's asking me to whore around for him.

My smile remains, "unfortunately, I don't think with my scars, anyone would be pleased."

"Quite the contrary Miss Tream, it's so on trend for the people. They think it's sexy. It's in. They like that it's a reminder that they get the Shark Biter, the Pricking Needle, the underdog. They like the intimacy, the control."

My breathe hitches. "Sorry, sir. But, I would like to retain the little innocence I have left."

He smiles wickedly. "Of course. If you would like to change your mind, I will be there, exactly when you need me."

***

I hadn't been in an actual house before. Our home was just trees, leaves, moss. Nature.

"Well darling, now you finally get to live in the luxury you deserve after winning the games." VeVe flounces, observing the interiors of my new home.

We never had luxury. Back in our home, everything hurt. Bark would scratch our skin if we leaned on it the wrong way, everything was dirty and wet from recent rain and mud. Our bed was made of moss and leaves, covered by whatever crappy fabric I was able to snag from the district centre.

After VeVe, Cecelia and Rena got me settled in, they had left. And as soon as they left, I slipped out of the house. I followed the same route I had travelled along since I was young, going home to Otti. My poor Otti who had no idea what happened to me.

"Otti!" I yelled as I barged through the leaves. "Ottiline?"

The hollowed trees were smashed open, the now decayed, moist leaves still rotting on the ground when Otti had always felt the need to rake them out of the 'house'. Did she go into a depression when I never came home? Threw a fit or something?

No. That's not it. It's so much worse.

There, on the hollowed tree I hide Otti in was a rose. A white rose, glued to the bark.

Snow has my sister.