The Capitol's Tribute

Prologue

For some reason, Gamemaker's children were highly encouraged to show up at the Gamemakers' office during the Hunger Games. It was supposed to inspire us to follow in our parent's footsteps. All the other kids there were snobs, entertained by watching or helping their parents murder children. One girl, Junie, kept shooting me glances from across the table at the weirdest times. Like when she was launching fireballs at the girl from 12. Or when she helped man the controls to unleash muttations. But now, something strange was happening. The two remaining tributes, both from District 12, were holding purple berries in their hands. I recognized them from earlier in the Games. "The poisonous berries that killed 5!" I say with a gasp before I can stop myself. The hologram of President Snow flicked on. "Eliminate them, immediately!" My mother's fingers hovered over the controls of the cannon that counted dead tributes. She adjusted the angle, slowly. My father prepped it for shooting, but I could tell by their faces that they didn't want to launch a cannonball at these teenagers. They wanted to see how this would play out, and if they did, maybe the rest of the Capitol would too.

"Piper and Piper, I ordered you to eliminate them!" President Snow said gruffly, and I heard my mother respond firmly. "No, we should let this play out."

"This will spark rebellion across the weak-minded districts!" Snow responded.

"How do you know the crowd isn't invested in this?" My father adds, placing his hand on my mother's shoulder. I can see Snow is angry. "I said eliminate them!" Now they're about to eat the berries. That's when Junie's mother pushes them aside and launches a cannonball at them. The girl turns her head and opens her mouth to scream. Then the arena explodes in a sphere of fire and debris. There is no way anyone could have survived an explosion like that. The cannon was huge so that people all across the arena could hear it. It probably destroyed everything in at least a mile radius. I cover my mouth in shock as the camera pans around the destruction. "Well, looks like we have no victor for the 74th Hunger Games! Just two rebels, eliminated. Let this serve as a reminder for everyone." President Snow says in a voiceover. At that moment, with cinematic drama, Peacekeepers throw the door open and grab my parents. They struggle, and I seem to see everything in slow motion. I rush forward, screaming, but a heavy hand throws me back. A Peacekeeper. Two gunshots. 4.7. 10. I cover my ears as my parents collapse to the floor. "Not a word of this leaks to the public." One Peacekeeper says.

I can't bring myself to look at the bullet-filled remains of my parents lying on the floor. Avoxes are sent in to clean up the mess as if this isn't too abnormal. I know that the murder of my parents was by President Snow's orders. So I ran out of the Gamemaker's office. I don't know where I'm going, but my feet lead me through the back allies. I couldn't bear to go back to my home after watching my parents be killed. Shadows seem to bite me from either side, trash spilling out of dumpsters. Even Avoxes don't seem to clean back here. I skid to a halt when I hear the screech of brakes. Somehow, I made it to the train station. I didn't think about the consequences, or even what I was doing. Just that I had to get as far away as possible from the man who killed my parents. So I ran towards the first train I saw. A large tube sucks something golden out of a circular hole in the top. Once the train car is emptied, the top is replaced. Then it's time for the next car. As a machine takes the top off, I scale the planks on the side of the car. I sit carefully on the thin edge of the wall. Soon, the car is emptied, and the machine holding the lid lowers it back down toward me. I jump into the train car, and above me, the lid closes. It was a longer jump than I expected, and I scraped my leg up on the way down. Of course, I don't have any way to see how badly I am injured because the train car is pitch black. And now it's moving.

I don't know where the train is going, and I don't really care. It's transporting goods back to the Capitol, and there are no places where goods are manufactured here. So now it is probably going back to another train station, far away from the place I used to call home. The thought that the train could be going back to the Districts didn't even cross my mind.