Deceived: The 500th Annual Hunger Games

Chapter 87 - The Victor's Interview [The End]

Staring at the large scar against my too flat stomach, I'm unsure whether to be relieved or upset.

Relieved because I'm alive; I never faced death. Why upset?

Because I am the reason that District One is going to be overrun by someone other than who it should've been.

Who the Victor should've been.

"Ma'am," a voice calls. It sounds a lot like my stylist. "You have five minutes to prepare, will that be okay?"

Choking back the tears of guilt I have, I reply. "That's okay. Thank you."

The dress provides is a sandy colour, dotted with green sequins and lime coloured lace. The sand and the serpents I faced are all I see in this dress.

It also reminds me of Skene.

My hair, already styled, falls to the left, curling, elegant. Not fit for a guilty, murderous Victor. The shoes, green and sparkly, make me wobble as I gingerly approach the red curtain.

From what I've heard from my gossiping stylists, Jarrett and Phillipe are on trail for treason. For the murder of President Ranunculus Ammon. For the attempted murder of Kipper Cannery. It turns out Phillipe even abused his pregnant wife once or twice.

"Please, give it up for this year's victor, the crossbow wielder from District Eleven: Persei Chamomile!"

Kipper is on the stage, obviously taking over where Phillipe can't fill in thanks to his crimes. To think the man actually cared about us for a while. What even changed? Did something snap inside his head, cause him to feel the power the President had as he was held captive thanks to him? Was he blinded by the hierarchy, unable to deal with the power?

Kip barely seems affected; part of me wonders if he had some kind of amnesiac phase somewhere along the line, like Eunia did in her games.

"Persei," he says, offering me a ham. Never trust anyone. Don't let anyone control you. "How have you been?"

Sitting down, I hold back the tears. "I've been quite down," I admit. Kip frowns at me.

"What's up?"

"Guilt is all I feel," I say. No one laughs, heckles, does anything. Never has someone had so much power as a victor. "Being deceived by the gamemakers, the interviewer of these games has had a massive effect on me; I feel deflated. Obviously, Chester, Arlu, Skene, even Phoxus - all I think about is how they were so brave in their last moments. How Rhymer and Hydra would feel - if they can feel in whatever afterlife there is - that the murderer of their siblings emerged victor..."

"I completely understand," Kip says. What he says next isn't a secret thanks to Arlu and his intelligent mind. "I wonder how Phoxus would feel about Jarrett still being alive after the incident with his brother."

"I'm sorry Jarrett betrayed you like he did," I say, almost whispering. Kip nods and continues on with the next question.

"So, now you're out, what do you plan on doing?" He asks.

"It's no secret my mother doesn't care about me, so I doubt I'll be seeing her when I get home. With the money I have, and the existing technology you have, I will use the majority of my savings to revive Skene a second time. Because without him, the Victor of the 500th Annual Hunger Games will kill herself."

Gasps fill the air as I say this. Removing a pocket knife I smuggled inside my bra, I flip the blade up. "Persei," Kip almost whines. "Skene's been revived once. I can't do anything to get him back. Not the way he was."

"Then I don't wanna live," I say stubbornly. "The only person I've ever cared about is Skene and I don't see a future without him."

Kip fidgets in his seat. "We physically can't."

"I wouldn't be able to kill myself," I admit. "I'm just desperate for him to come back."

Kip holds me in his arms. "I know you are. I want the old Jarrett back, but he isn't coming back. You can't change the past." It's almost as if we aren't having an interview anymore, but more like a therapy session.

"So, other than bring back Skene, what do you want?" Kip asks eventually.

I've thought long and hard about this already. "I want to be kept away from my mother. In fact, I know exactly what I want. I want, in the months outside of the games, to run a paintball facility within the Capitol. And within the month or so of the games, I want to replace Phillipe Honeyman as the interviewer of these games."

Yes, I know that one of the twins wants to take over, but I'm sure Fione wants to stay as far away from the Capitol as possible.

"That's entirely possible after the Victory Tour," Kip smiles. "Especially following the news of Fione Lickprivick."

All I can do is panic. "What happened to her?" I cry out, expecting the worst.

I was right to do so.

"She gave birth to two stillborns," he sighs, letting out a tear. This is gonna get the districts going, forget the Capitol citizens. "This is news, only found out by us this morning. Phillipe cannot be blamed fully, but his abuse could've potentially killed them. Further investigation is to made."

The twins: dead? This year, that means not only have tributes lost lives - some, twice - but also, the people behind the games have lost lives too.

"Persei, next question: what do you feel like eating right now? I know you're starving, your tummy is growling at me." Kip points the microphone to my stomach, letting the rumble play through the speakers. People laugh as I think.

"Carrot cake," I say. "Something I had when I was eight after finding money on the floor. Went to the bakers and chose that cake. It was blissful as I bit into it. I haven't had one since."

As if by magic, Pluto Ammon rolls out onto the stage. Often, I forget he's only really a few years older than I am; in his twenties or something. He isn't as harsh as his father, but he isn't to be messed with.

"For me?" I gasp, playing along to make the citizens chuckle.

"For you," Pluto says, kissing my hand. No, I don't fancy the brunette, but I can't help but feel flattered by him. "For the Victor, the future presenter of the Hunger Games."

As a slice is placed delicately on a plate for Kip and I, Pluto bows and leaves, pulling the tray behind him. Tucking in, I feel all of the flavours melt against my tongue, dancing along my tastebuds. It's the first real positive feeling I've had.

"Persei, thank you for being amazing," Kip smiles. I forget his age too - Pluto, Kip and I are all within ten years of each other - we'll be in this for the next thirty years, at least. Hell, one presenter went on for sixty four years or something.

"Thank you for being amazing," I repeat, pushing my fringe out of my eyes. Despite everything that's happened, the ups and downs, I'm glad most of it occurred. Other than Skene's - and a few other people's - death, I'm glad to say I've been through it all, seen it all, experienced the Games.

"Give it up for this year's Victor, next year's presenter and all-around great girl, Persei Chamomile of District Eleven!"

I'm informed that I'll have my tour, living in a Victor's house for the time being. I have permanent access to Eleven and my old and new house. After the tour, a place for paintball under my name, along with my own condo right next to Kip's house, will be given to me; where I'll live for the majority of my time.

As I leave, I only know one thing for good: the rest of my life is going to be a wacky roller coaster.

And I'm willing to ride it until the very end, with Kip and Pluto by my side.