Author Games: Memoranda Of Terror

The Grande Finale - Vixen Axwell

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'Two little kittens, one stormy night

begun to quarrel, and then to fight.'

I whisper the repetitive lullaby as if it is a mantra, a way of keeping myself sane. I cannot hear my own whispering above the noise happening out on stage, but it's comforting to know that the words are leaving my mouth.

'One had a mouse, the other had none,

and that's the way the quarrel begun.'

Khave bounds around on stage, shouting out words that mean nothing to me:

"Go on, let's all relieve that moment when the first kill was made,"

"Can you remember the reaction when that face was shown in the sky?"

The crowd reacts in the way they are supposed to react, laughing and cheering as if this is all one big joke to them. Just once, I would love to see the reaction if Khave told them the truth:

"Let's sit here and recall all the memories that our lone Victor would give his life to forget."

The cheers continue, blending in with the constant bangs of fireworks and the constant music blaring from speakers. The noise itself is pointless but deafening, the kind of noise that makes you want to clamp your hands over your ears. That is the way a child would avoid it, but I'm not allowed to be a child any more. I have to go out on stage and meet the expectations of a Victor.

A Victor has to be worthy enough to stand on the stage I am pushed on to. A Victor has to be confident enough to sit up straight on the throne I am instructed to sit on. A Victor has to be friendly enough to smile and wave at the crowds. A Victor has to be brave enough to sit here and watch his friends die without bursting into tears.

No tears - the only advice my mentor gave me for tonight.

Khave puts his finger to his lips, the universal symbol that creates a hush over the audience. Alithia strides on stage, giving off an aura that simply says "I am the one in charge." She seems taller than she does on the television screen, or is that just her heels?

Either way, she strides across the stage with a slight smile forced upon her lips. Behind me, Vinella lets out a rather loud giggle. I only wish I could be as happy as she sounds. Pandora lets out a small 'shush', and Vinella quietens down a tiny bit, although not entirely.

A single cough echoes around the audience, and the glare Alithia gives the person sends chills down my spine. I dread to think how it makes him feel. She composes herself, fixing the smile back onto her perfectly made-up face. In her hands she holds the Victor's Crown, the most wanted head-piece in all of Panem.

I don't want it.

She doesn't ask for my opinion, and, like always, I do not offer one voluntarily. Instead, she walks towards me and carefully places it on my head. I barely feel it , almost as if the crown is made entirely of clouds.

"Congratulations," announces Alithia, then she adds something a little more personal that I feel only I can hear. "You have earned it."

Earned it? What have I done to earn an 'honour' such as the one they bestoy upon me now?

The chatter begins again in the crowd as they cheer the name of their Victor, my name. Except, I don't want it to be my name. I'd rather they be cheering for someone else.

But no, tonight is my night. Tonight's the night where I must act the centre of attention and at least appear like I want to be here.

No tears.