District 13 is reeling when they discover that our president is dead. Horrified when they learn she was murdered; killed by a knife wound in her throat.

Of course, I'm not dumb enough to leave the knife with me. I buried it aboveground while on sentry duty. People try consoling me all morning, and I play along. Thank them for their kindness. But now my real adventure begins, as I take my rightful place in our district's history. Their youngest president ever. I'll have older Council members that advise me, sort of like the presidential cabinet they used to have in North America. Because of my age, the Council is adding five extra members. Doesn't mean I'm not feeling jittery about it. Leading. Such a gigantic responsibility for any seventeen-year-old to shoulder.

Um… I guess it's too late to bring her back, isn't it?

Oh no. Now it's hit me. The severity of what I've done. Regret and shame are closing in from all sides. What would Electra say? Or Dad or Jason?

They'd never speak to me again if they knew.

I wait in her office with one of her Council members, Ned Drixton. He's a trustworthy man; forty-eight years old; sort of an honorary family member, really. He even lets me call him by his first name, and he's given me a nickname, inspired by my hair color.

"Are you nervous, Red?" he asks. "You're taking a big step today."

"My family's been leading the district for decades. I just hope I can live up to the Coin standards."

And that I can live with myself. A killer. Finally, I understand Electra's agony. Taking someone out of the world, minus any guilt, requires a stone heart. God forbid the day should come when I become that kind of villain who doesn't feel.

Ned loops his stringy arm over my shoulders. "Hey, you're not alone. You'll have more help than you know what to do with."

"Yeah," I agree, chuckling. It feels unnatural as it leaves me. Forced.

"It's high time we head into the commons area, Miss President," he says. Emphasis on my new title.

"Technically, I'm not official yet," I joke.

"But I like the sound of it. President Alma Coin." He tucks a strand of messy gray hair behind his ear. Opens the door. There's no going back now.

So we take my first steps into the future, without my parents. Without my brother or sister. Without my dream guy. I'm gonna step up and accept the role that's been ordained for me since day one.

When we enter the commons area, it buzzes with mixed emotions. Melancholy. Pride. Sadness. Hope. And they're all waiting to watch me take over. To determine if I'll become another Isolde Coin.

They don't know I already have.

Ned escorts me to M-I mean, my podium, from which I'll make addresses. He gets the first word. More than that, really. If I were incapacitated for any reason (fancy way to say 'if/when I die'), he's the new president.

"Attention! Attention!" he declares, gesturing his hands in my direction. "You know this young woman as Alma Coin, daughter of the late Isolde Coin. Our government demands that leadership be passed on hereditarily; so, she stands here, ready to lead. Now she must take the presidential oath."

He produces a shabby, gray book; which my Grandpa Dex owned. His predecessor-who-shall-remain-nameless became leader with her hand on it. And so will I. Tradition equals sanity. Tradition, tradition! Yes, repeating it makes me feel better.

Murderer.

"Repeat after me," Ned says: "I, Alma Coin…"

"I, Alma Coin…"

"Swear to lead District Thirteen with my heart, mind and soul."

"Swear to lead District Thirteen with my heart, mind and soul," I vow.

"I will put the district's needs above my own," he says.

"I will put the district's needs above my own."

Which is what I accomplished when I threw that blade yesterday. She gradually, painfully, killed our family without a second thought. She offered up two young people for the slaughter. Who's to say she wouldn't have exterminated hundreds of others?

Okay, okay. I won't apologize, then. I won't. That's right. I did everybody a favor.

But she was your mother. Without her, there would've been no Alma Coin. I'm happy to be alive, sure. My family doesn't define me.

"…I will commemorate the rebellion in everything I do."

I echo Ned like a good girl; calmly, and one hundred percent innocent.

"I will make decisions to the best of my abilities."

"I will make decisions to the best of my abilities," I repeat.

"And most importantly, I swear loyalty towards my fellow citizens."

Yeah, I do. I sincerely do. We're not much, but we're a thriving community; and preserving it is my goal. I won't let District 13 disappear. Whatever the Capitol might do if they find out we're underground, Grandpa Dex worked too hard for this. It's all so exciting/scary.

"Without further ado," Ned says, "I'll turn the mike over to your new leader!"

Tiny steps lead me ahead, under a stifling podium spotlight.

"Hello, District Thirteen," I say. "I'm grateful for each and every one of you here today, during this horrible period in my life. But it's also a period of change, as I assume the presidency. And my first act is to demolish Thirteen's Battle."

Applause erupts.

"-And of course, while I go about my duties, I can't forget that justice has to be served. When I catch the person who took away my mother, there will be a severe punishment. You can't hide forever."

Easier said than done. That was more for my own benefit. What happens now, though? I frame somebody? Crap. I should've dropped poison in her drink; so they'd assume she died from a natural cause.

Dig your way out of the hole some other day, I think to myself.

"Tragedies aside, I hope I become the leader you need. We'll get through it all together. I promise. Long live District Thirteen!" I add to the end. For old time's sake.

Their natural reply: "And long live the Coins!"

The old Alma Coin is dead and gone. But Alma Coin, president of District 13, has awakened, and she's here to stay.