District Seven

I saw hate radiating from River's father. He looked so much like her. It was like seeing her vengeful ghost. His stare lasted for ages as I delivered my canned speech. I wondered if it was as long as it took me to kill her. I could see all the things he wanted to say and the pain that burned brighter than the rage. There was nothing he could to me that I didn't deserve. I never wanted to see Seven again. It was gorgeous, with its lovely trees and its pastoral greenery. I was a blight to it, and as soon as I could I'd remove myself so I couldn't scorch it.

District Eight

The people pretended to give me privacy when I stole away to the graveyard. It wasn't hard to find Velvet's marker. The ground was broken and the dirt was still bare above her. I laid down a boquet of rainbow irises. I thought they would suit her. They were colorful and radiant, like they were crying out to my eyes. They pressed against the stone lifelessly, as lifeless as she was.

"I wish you had won," I told her. "You were alive. I'm not. You made the world brighter. Why couldn't you have won?" Her cold marble gravestone looked back at me. It was Capitol-issue. They wanted the stone to last, so everyone would see their victims. It stood taller than the others and her face was etched into it. Her stone eyes were lifeless and cold. They mocked the girl she was.

"It should have been you!" I cried. Her stone shouldn't have been there marking her death. The dirt shouldn't be holding her down under the ground. I threw myself against the stone and tried to push it over. It didn't belong there and it was wrong. I dragged my fingers through the dirt like I could free her from her prison.

District Nine

There was so much grass. It whispered to me all the horrible things I'd done. Anything could have been in that grass. Tariq, asking why I'd killed his friend and running from me in fear. Horrible mutts like the spider that killed him. I hadn't seen that until the recap. If I'd known my life meant that death for him, I'd have killed myself first.

District Eleven

Olivier was still there. He was in the crowd looking at me. He wanted revenge. I'd never seen him look so bitter. He didn't do anything, though. I made my speech and there was a feast. He never took his eyes off me, but when I was done, he was gone like a shadow.

I didn't have anywhere to go but up. Two things were a comfort as I tried to go on: Labyrinth and writing. Labyrinth never wanted to leave my side. He went everywhere with me as he started to grow bigger. Fluvius brought him a little cape and told everyone he was a "therapy dog". He certainly was therapy to me. Whenever the flashbacks came and I started to shake, he put his paws up on my leg and laid his head in my lap. He wouldn't move until I was ready. I started to gather any dogs I found in the District. I brought them all to my house and trained them so they could help people like Labyrinth helped me.

The people of Ten were nothing but supportive. They just saw me as a second Victor. That meant a year of much-needed food and celebration. Children crowded around my house hoping for gifts or just a glance at me. They were so happy I was alive I started to agree with them. Labyrinth thought I was good. The other Victors thought so. All of Ten agreed. I hoped so many people couldn't be wrong.

Once I started writing, I couldn't stop. When I wasn't mowing my lawn, I was writing. My first project was tortured prose without any grammar or story to frame the emotion. It was an ugly snarl of jagged words and black guilt. Obviously, my personal writings weren't fit for the public eye. The Capitol wanted my "talent" to be bright and cheerful. I didn't mind, since I found solace in that, too. My stories for the Capitol had grand heroes and endless romances. They all had happy endings. All I would write were happy endings. I thought of my private writings like my past- the wounds I was working to heal. Writing the feelings down brought them out from inside me, and I transferred all my pain to lifeless paper. When there were no words, I made my own. The happy endings were my future, I hoped. If I wrote such lovely things, maybe someday I could live them. All my characters got happy endings. Someday, maybe I would find one for myself.

And so another Victor starts his development. These things don't happen overnight, and Bambi will surely change every new year we see him. I'm excited to have another Victor for Ten, even if Cornflower will appear less. I'll put her in where I can and make sure Bambi gets the same space as the other Victors.

One thing I forgot to add earlier: I didn't create any of Alice's stories. They're all from Alice in Wonderland or Through the Looking-Glass.

Wouldn't you know it, I'm writing another story! Submissions are now open and I anticipate we can start soon. I'll see you there. It will be called Power to the People