I was given an extra day to recover from my extreme starvation and wounds. It took me a day to move my legs again. I could barely walk, something wasn't right. I hobbled towards the door. I had to get out of this all white room. Before I could reach it, Lina burst through the door.
"Today's the big day!" she chirped, "you're getting crowned, for all the world to see! Tybalt has a dress for you, I hear." I nodded, the morphling hadn't worn off quite yet.
"Okayyy," I replied. My brain was just a jumble of thoughts and words that I couldn't put together right.
I was led through several corridors until I reached Tybalt's room. There was a long, shimmering black dress there. Tybalt stared ahead solemnly.
"I was never a fan of the Games," he said, "but seeing you suffer and try to save everyone out there made me hate them more."
"So...what does the dress mean?" I asked, beginning to gain full consciousness.
"When I first met you, you were feisty. But still, so young and innocent. No one leaves the Games and innocent child. You're still fourteen, but you aren't a child anymore." I nodded. It was true. I wasn't a child anymore. I was a crazed killer, who couldn't save the people who had saved me many times.
I put on the dress, and looked in the mirror. Something in my face had changed. It wasn't the scars from Cassian's sword, or the dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep. It was maturity, and grief. I had experienced grief, but none quite like your closest friends getting killed. And the grief would never leave. Just like some scars would never fade.
That day, I was crowned. Victor of the new Hunger Games. President Snow placed the crown on my head, but he didn't look at all happy. Was it because he wanted a career to win? Did I defy him in some way. Then, I remembered. I shot the camera. Haymitch told me they weren't able to get another one running for over an hour.
I had won, but I didn't feel like a winner. In fact, I felt like the one loser. I had to live in this Panem, where killing kids is acceptable. And there's nothing you can do to save them.
I boarded the train home the next day, ready to return to District 12. Nothing would be the same, though. I'd now live in the new Victor's Village, and every year I'd have to mentor with Haymitch. The train zoomed through the districts, paining me, I realized that the dead tributes' families must be grieving. And Romy. I couldn't get her out of my head. The thought of her killed me inside every second of the day.
"Fern, now that you've own, the Capitol's wish is your command!" Lina said cheerily. I knew I'd need to get Epsilon's brother the medicine, but there would be time for that during the Victory Tour. That damned Victory Tour, where I'd be put in front of the families....
"Fern, isn't that exciting?" Lina exclaimed. I nodded.
"I want my dad back," I said determined, "and Theo."
"Theo?" Lina asked.
"Theo Mellark?" Haymitch said, "I'm afraid that won't be happening. Neither will your father."
"What?" I said.
"They're in prison," Haymitch replied, "and I wouldn't be surprised if they aren't already avoxes." The train slowed to a slow, gradual stop.
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Scars That Never Fade- A New Generation of Hunger Games
FanfictionThe odds are definitely not in 14-year-old Fern Hawthorne's favor. She has lost almost all communication with her father, who was a leader in the second rebellion. One of her only friends, Theo Mellark is captured by the Capitol and held hostage a...