The End of the Beginning - SYOT

Chapter One

"I think I just remembered something,

I think I left the faucet running,

Now my words are filling up the tub."

-

Mida Lacrin was always expected to win the First Annual Hunger Games. The Capitol wouldn't have it any other way. See, her father was a soldier who killed a fair amount of rebels in his time while her mother was a huge socialite. Daddy had taught her how to fight with swords, guns, and her fists if she ever needed to, and Mommy's charm had rubbed off on her. Not to mention the family's sponsor-attracting prestige or the fact she was Reaped two weeks before her nineteenth birthday; those things as well played a huge role. She was mapped out to take the crown from the start, so the rebels and orphans didn't stand a chance.

Accomplishing all this when you're barely an adult is supposed to fill you with pride, or so she was told. But Mida felt all but that. She was a kid, but in the arena, there she was, stabbing other kids like they weren't even people. The adrenaline had taken over her moral compass so she was blinded. She did what she could to survive in there like an animal. She killed and killed and killed and killed and killed...

The words wouldn't stop echoing in her head. She put her knees to her chest, looked down, and began to cry right there on her bed. In a night of pure panic one night she had ran to the mental hospital and they laughed it off, insisting she merely hadn't toughened up yet. She knew it was more. Every time she opened her eyes she saw them, maybe not physically like Valerie but still clear in her head.

Nearly a year passed since she won the first Games with its simple forest arena. Her chin was up as she stood on her pedestal that day, smirking at the trembling girl from District Six who died minutes later. She didn't care; Mida was young, sad, and free. A contradiction so true. After the ashes had settled she felt years older and chained to her Victory, a gun held to her head ready to fire if she said the wrong thing. She lived under that pressure all day and every day so she figured she would soon have to get used to it.

She looked up at the glass ceiling that calmed her when all else failed, and sat down normally. When she daydreamed she wanted something to gaze upon, so she chose the stars. District One was up north without any of the smog Eight and Six had, so every night, the dark skies were dotted with pale glimmers, forming beautiful constellations Mida could only strive to understand. For some reason, she loved the confusion. Being a Victor meant everyone worshipped you and your name, leading her to want to know a world where she was tinier and less significant than a speck.

"Miss me?"

Mida jumped from the cozy position she was in- legs crossed, arms wrapped around her torso- and saw her again. That girl from Six, Valerie Moon. She was thirteen with pale skin, plaited caramel hair, and brown eyes. She was only four foot eight but she had a hell of a temper that only the Games washed out. She scored a five in private sessions and had two parents and a ten-year-old brother named Lance who loved dinosaurs and writing. Valerie loved talking about herself.

She memorized everything about her since she had no choice, with the dead girl always being on her trail. She appeared every day around twice and her frame wasn't quite solid, wasn't quite mist. Valerie shimmered and moved like a reflection in a wave pool, the only consistent thing the fire in her eyes.

"Stars, huh?" She looked up and rested her jaw against the palm of her hand, sitting a foot from Mida.

"I never saw stars. See, in Six it was too messy everywhere. It was newly formed, everyone was poor..." She trailed off, venom dripping from her voice. The Victor, now vulnerable to her vision, did her best to keep her guard up.

"How have you been? I haven't visited recently."

She was taken aback at this kindness, so different from her usually hostile nature.

"I've been... well... there's going to be a second Games..." As if twenty-three deaths weren't enough. The Capitol had already decided on it so there was no going back.

She wanted to slap herself. Here she was, Panem's one Victor, stuttering and making a fool out of herself in front of a kid who died in the bloodbath.

"Well," She looked away from the carpet and made eye contact with Mida, "that doesn't sound fun."

"But how have you been?" Her falsetto voice rose.

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. The girl must have something planned; why else would she act like this? She was used to being visited by Valerie since she didn't have much of a choice, but this was even more strange. She wouldn't fall for this, and she couldn't because if something happened nobody would believe her. The perfect Victor wasn't supposed to be haunted so she never spoke.

"Alright, I suppose." She kept a close watch on the level of her voice, making sure she sounded neither too confident nor too fearful.

"Good, good." The thirteen-year-old hummed a brief tune, swinging her legs against the edge of the bed and looking all around. "You've got a nice house. It must be fun being a Victor."

Mida felt an unmistakable guilt creep across the room with the silence. "I'm sorry."

"You did what you could to win. If I were a tough eighteen-year-old I'd kill me." She smiled serenely, so unusual. Any other time Valerie would either be bouncing off the walls or screaming, so she visited only when Mida was all alone.

"So if you aren't angry," She hesitated, "why are you still here?"

"I'm waiting until you can live without me. Until the day you've let go of your Games. Sounds annoyingly selfless, but I'm mainly doing it because being fully dead sounds boring."

-

I've decided to write a SYOT! This story is also on Fanfiction.net and I'm publishing it here to hopefully attract more submitters and readers. I have the same username on Fanfiction, and the form, rules, and information on each District is on my profile. You can submit your tributes by PM-ing me there, or if there's a way to message people on Wattpad then you may submit that way. Thanks for reading!