The Capitol

You can't stop her

Emory Starling, 20

The President's Daughter

Tears wrack my body, the fancy dress being stained by my black mascara. I just cry, looking numbly at the Capitol below.

The people who live who glory and blood, watching dirty little district rats fight to the death. Possible new meat to grace their beds, possible things to scoff at, but nonetheless, entertainment.

Father started the games 25 years ago to avenge Uncle Lennon, who was killed by a person in 12. The Great Rebellion led to many important men and women being killed, and had the destruction of 13. He rose as the leader, and conquered the rebellious and untamed country from the ashes. He did it heartbroken and angry. In order to reprimand the districts for the rebellion that killed his best friend and brother, he created the Hunger Games.

"War, terrible war. Widows, orphans, a motherless child. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace, hard fought, sorely won. A people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born. But freedom has a cost. When the traitors were defeated, we swore as a nation we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed that, each year, the twelve districts of Panem would offer up, in tribute, one young man and woman to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage and sacrifice. The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future."

Of course, by then, he met my mother soon after, and by the fifth game, I was born. Many hoped that the birth of his child, his first-born and only child, he will experience pain and adoration and the unconditional love that only a parent felt and end the games. He didn't. Since I turned 5, I sat with Mother and Father in the President's balcony, overlooking the tributes' chariots.

"One day Emory, you shall look over here and know that you will have the power to control the fate of twenty-four people in your hands. One day darling, one day," he said each parade, his smooth, not at all callused hands brushing through my long golden locks.

Father was murdered by an assassin sent by a rich man in Eleven last month. Mother, stricken with anger and sorrow, was handed the role as President of Panem.

Mother had always had colour. She was the most vibrant person in my life, with golden blonde hair like my own and striking blue eyes. She lost more colour in her life from the past month than in her 38 years of life in Panem. She dulled, her blonde hair becoming duller, not as golden blonde but straw blonde. Her eyes faded away to a washed out blue. She paled considerably, not as fashionable as most people here would say. She swore revenge on the districts for the assassination of my father.

But this… this is too far.

"Mother! You can't do that! That's horrible! Sick… who would do that?" I had screamed at her. Her idea was outrageous.

She scoffed. "They need to pay. Your father is DEAD because of them."

I stepped closer, my fists clenched. I never liked the games. I'm destroying them once I become President. "Mother, they are PAYING! The Games… taking parents away from children, so young… some, if not all of the tributes are younger than me!"

She rolled her eyes. "Emory, you are in the Capitol. You are safe. And you aren't president yet, and if you keep this up, you never will be! Regardless of what you say, this will happen."

I sighed. "Mummy, I know Father's death killed you on the inside, but many will suffer because of this." I haven't called her Mummy for years. I hoped that it would turn her around.

She hugged me tightly, her mouth right beside my ear. "I love you too darling, but this won't change anything."

The stylists put my golden locks into a low chignon twist, twisting it painfully. They giggled, talking about the newest victor, Roman Troy from District 2, and how hot he was.

"Oh, did you see how Roman looked with Augustus Silvermoon?" Cardia, a woman with atrocious purple hair, ghost pale skin, and green tattoos that swirled around her arms, asked.

"Ah yes! Roman's outfit, just perfection!" Flavius, a man with tattooed teeth and orange hair gushed.

"I loved how he got a tattoo to represent his love for the games!" Lucretia, a woman with bright blue hair, gushes.

They chat like this for a while, and finally finish me after what seemed like an hour.

I head up to the President's balcony, beside my mother, overlooking the crowd, and put on my best fake smile. The Capitolites scream, gushing over my outfit and hair, and I wave to them. Years of experience made me learn to just feed them, not oppose them.

Mother looked a little brighter, her straw coloured hair straight, and she wore an emerald green dress, the exact colour of my and my father's eyes. She smiled down at them, but her eyes held a saying of victory.

She rises gracefully, and heading to the front of the balcony. The Capitolites cheer for her, their beloved president, and bearer of good news.

Smiling with triumph, she speaks.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the 25th Hunger Games!" she exclaimed, spreading her arms out and addressing the crowd. "Us here, in the Capitol, have decided to do something different this year, something unique. We will spice up the Games, making it unforgettable! It is decided that every 25 years, there will be a Quarter Quell, to keep the generation fresh for a new generation of those who have fallen in the uprising against the Capitol. Each Quarter Quell shall be distinguished from the other games by something different. This Quarter Quell, the first ever, to remind the districts that they had a choice, the districts shall vote for who will go into the Games!"

The crowd below us erupted in cheers, but I stared into the distance, wishing that my father had never come up with these games in the first place.

All I know is, that as long as I am in the Capitol, I am safe.

But for anyone else not living here, they are not.

Hi guys! My name's Ata and this just hit me. So... I've been obsessed with two SYOTs lately (101st Hunger Games by Team Shadow and Certain Defeat: The 3rd Annual Hunger Games by dyloccupy) and I've decided to make one! So the SYOT form is in my profile because I know the stories won't let you copy and paste. The spots can be reserved for 7 days, and then they won't be yours. Also, it's a first come, first serve type of thing. You can have up to 3 tributes, but one has to die in the bloodbath, I'm sorry. Butttt, if you have less than 3, none of them have to die. The next time this story will be updated is when both tributes from District 1 are submitted. Thanks for checking this story out!