Temporary Forevers

The reflection that stared back at me threw me into a state of shock, leaving me choking on the breath that had just entered my lungs. Her long golden curls cascaded loosely down her back. Her face was beautifully contoured with smooth make up, courtesy of Alma, the Capitol's finest stylist. A cream colored dress clung tightly to her body, her collarbones protruding due to near starvation. What bothered me the most though, was the eyes that blankly watched me. The gorgeous green color was dull and lifeless. I might as well be dead. My body was nothing but an empty shell.

My bony fingers brushed across my skin as I lifted my thigh knee length dress to reveal my stomach. I traced the deep red scar that extended from my ribcage down to my belly button. It was this injury that I was sure would kill me. For a moment, in the reflection of the mirror, I thought I saw my hand coated thick with blood.

I felt the train halt, the brakes screeching as it slowly came to a stop. Anticipation bubbled deep with in my stomach. Finally, I was home. After staring into the faces of mourning families, I was relieved to return to District One. This was my home, where I wouldn't be forced to cope with guilt and mask it with an award winning smile. But was I honestly happy to be home? I wasn't quite sure just yet.

The late summer sun shone brightly in the sky as I pressed my frail hand against the window. I waited patiently for someone to retrieve me, which would most likely my mentor, Cashmere, or maybe even a Peacekeeper. Suddenly, I was dreading to return to my district. From the train station, I could see the stages and banners in the Square where the welcoming citizens were waiting to greet me.

The thought alone was sickening. There would be congratulatory parties, and even worse, envious glares from other could-have-been-tributes. I calmed myself before I became too angered. The Capitol had my entire district brainwashed. They truthfully believed that the Games were an honor. What fools they are, and what a fool I once was.

I allowed Cashmere to usher me out of my train car without hesitation. The hot air blanketed me, pulling sweat from my pores and I almost stepped back into the air conditioned train to skip this entire dreaded ordeal.

Gloss, Cashmere's brother, showed me his impossibly bright grin and patted my shoulder almost a little too harshly. I flinched at the contact causing Cashmere to send me a look with her beautiful sad eyes. I found myself wondering if the siblings had ever expected me to come out a survivor, or if they thought the male tribute, Grannon stood a better chance than I had. And maybe he did.

I wanted to ask Cashmere when I would get to see my family but I couldn't find my voice. Instead, I followed closely behind the twins silently and attempted to listen in on the small talk. Unfortunately, the sound of cheers overlapped any hint of what they were conversing about. I plastered a happy smile upon my exhausted features and waved awkwardly.

How could I have feared this moment so terribly for the past two weeks? As a little girl, I dreamed of the applause as I took the stage proudly as they announced me a victor to my home district. Oh, had I known then what I know now... Maybe I wouldn't have volunteered in the first place.

Cashmere took a hold of my hand and lead me through a maze of bodies. Fingers reached out to touch me, to graze across my arm just so their owners could say they were close enough to the victor to feel her pampered skin. I was more than relieved when the large oak doors of the Justice Building. Cool air once again tickles my exposed flesh and I smile at the feeling but I'm soon interrupted from the bliss.

My youngest brother. How could I ever dread our anticipated reunion? I felt so awful in his arms and I let out a quiet sob. Jasper would never tell a soul about it, I was sure of it. Still, I straightened in his embrace causing him to release me. I masked my broken soul and grinned at my family.

"Oh my sweet girl," my mother's soothingly melodic voice chimed, as she took my face in her soft hands. Tears spilled over cheeks before she pressed a kiss to my forehead. Surely she could see straight through my facade.

"Hi mom," I spoke for the first time all day. My voice barely even sounded like my own. It was hoarse; hallow.

My father nodded at me, silently greeting me, but didn't move a muscle to approach me. Just as I had remembered him. Stern and cold as stone.

I jumped when Sterling's large, rough hand ruffled my hair haphazardly. I played it off, faking an annoyed expression as I flattened the loose strands of golden locks that were now standing on their ends. Sending him a glare, I forced my heart rate to slow by holding my breath; maybe for a little too long.

"Proud of you, Killer."

The nickname left a cold, empty feeling in my gut. A few scenes flashed in my eyelids. A knife as long as my forearm impaling a young boys chest; a rock crushing a skull of a girl who resembled a childhood friend of mine. I swallowed the lump in my throat and thanked him under my breath.

It was then that I closed my eyes tightly and ignored my surroundings as I began to count in my head, just as Dr. Maywell advised me to do. My nerves tingled and my head spun. The panic attack was coming on strong.

One, two, three, four,

My name is Jade Perthshire. District One is my home.

five, six, seven, eight,

I am the victor of the 68th Hunger Games.

nine, ten, eleven, twelve,

I murdered children. Helpless, innocent kids. I ruthlessly killed them and laughed as their blood was caked on my clothes. The thrill of the slaughter was empowering. The bloodshed was euphoric.

A weight pressed down on my left shoulder. My eyes snapped open, fire burning in my pupils as I prepared to set up for the kill. My hand was clasped around Cashmere's wrist. Quickly letting go, I felt like curling into a tiny ball for the rest of my life.

"It's time to get ready, Jade," she spoke ever so softly. I toyed with the idea what she had gone through the same trauma when she found herself back in reality. Though, you never leave the Games. They will forever be a part of me. The worst part of me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, looking at my feet. Eyes pierced into me but I lacked the courage to meet any of them. I was so ashamed of myself. Here I was, a survivor of the Hunger Games and I couldn't even bare to face my family. But was I really a survivor? Or was I the true villain all along?