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When District 2 welcomed another Victor amongst their already heaving ranks, the District rejoiced. It meant more food for their district and in turn, it meant their reputation was upheld again, for another year. The 65th they had lost to District 4, another strong and competitive district. However, Daphne Knight had more than proven herself worthy of her Victor status. After all, she had killed half of the tributes inside the area. 12 deaths were responsibility. She was one of the most ruthless winners the Hunger Games had ever bared witness to. The district was proud.
Daphne was not proud. In fact, it woke her up in sweat and anxiety every night. The medicine the Capitol doctor had given her worked at first, lulled her into a deep sleep, but even there she met nightmares that she couldn't escape because her body was sleeping. Daphne had given the medicine to her father, who was also suffering from the lack of sleep as his daughter's screaming would often wake him. Her brother, Kian, had taken to sleeping in the living room on the couch so her yelling wouldn't disrupt him.
Daphne was a hero to her district, but to herself she was nothing but a murderer. Daphne had been desperate to win. The rigorous training her father put her and her brother through during their youth had paid off. Daphne was slim and short and stealthy. She was good with knives, like a lot of District 2 tribute's end up being. Daphne and her district partner, Jayson, outdid everyone other tribute. They were the perfect duo. Then, after the gong had sounded, Daphne rushed into the cornucopia which was surrounded by a swamp, and found a belt of knives. Daphne killed Jayson first by burying a throwing knife into his neck. His blood soaked her, covering her completely. Then she killed the rest.
The crunch of snow under boot had once been a sound of comfort for Daphne, at least before her ears had become tuned to listening for strange sounds. The crackle of the snow was overly loud in her ears. She knew she was safe, after all the people of District 2 adored her, well everyone except her fellow tribute's family. The Stone family were quite well known, they were relatives of the mayor and their son being picked was quite the story. Everyone expected strong, ox-like Jayson Stone to bring home the title of Victor. Daphne out did him when it came to reality. Jayson had a big mouth and he was Daphne's main competition. She had to get him out of her way early.
The cemetery loomed quietly at the far reaches of the district, well away from The Mother- the mountain which was the hub of District 2. This cemetery was reserved for the elite of District 2. Victor's and those who could afford to spare money on a graveyard plot. The Stone family had their own space in the cemetery and Jayson had a pride of place stone, engraved with his name and a message; "Brave & bold till the end". The world silenced as Daphne stopped in front of the headstone. She crouched down and used her sleeve to wipe off the dusting of snow that had settled over night. Then carefully she lowered the bouquet of wildflowers to rest against the stone. She had bought these at the market as soon as it opened at 6am, it was still dark outside and now the sun was just beginning to burn through the snow filled clouds.
Daphne presses the tips of her three centre fingers to her lips and then presses those same fingers against the stone. It was an old sign of respect that had been passed down from other districts, Daphne had never done it before but it felt right. Slowly she stands up and turns to walk away when she hears the snow crunch to her left. Instinctively, she tenses and turns towards the noise, her shoulder hunch up ready to go on the offensive.
"What're you doing here?" A plump lady in winter furs asks her, the fur was definitely wolf, her boots looked lined with sheep wool. She was rich and not by the same means Daphne was rich.
"I was paying my respects," Daphne speaks, making sure to match the tone and presence of the woman before her.
"We don't need your respects, demon child," The lady says. Daphne knew her, Jayson's mother- Cora, "Your flowers mean nothing to my boy,"
"I mean no trouble Mrs Stone," Daphne speaks softly now, taking a step towards her, "I know you wish your son was stood before you, not me...I often wish it had gone that way too...I'm sorry for what I did to your family,"
Cora scowls, "Don't ever come here again,"
Daphne nods once and then makes her way out of the cemetery, deciding to keep her word- she did not want to cause problems with the Stone family. Daphne takes herself across District 2, to her family's home in the Victor's Village. It was a bland, copy and paste of house after house. Daphne shared her neighbourhood with some of the most ruthless killers in Hunger Games history. The Victor's, like Daphne, are mostly haunted by what they did in the Games, but some of them...Some of them are proud of what they did. Those are the ones Daphne avoids.
Daphne's home is 4 bedrooms upstairs with 3 bathrooms. Downstairs is a large living room and then open plan kitchen/dining space. There is fenced in backyard which her brother uses for growing flowers and vegetables when the weather favours it. It has been 4 years since Daphne won her Hunger Games and she stills remembers every second of it clear as day. Sometimes, when all is quiet and she is alone, she daydreams about still being in the arena, still cutting kids up to try and win.
As Daphne enters the house she immediately relaxes into the warmth of it. Her brother had started the fire going before leaving for work. Her brother and father both still worked despite having enough money to ensure they didn't need to. Her father works inside the mountain, training people to be Peacekeepers. Though, truly that is a cover story for what he really does. Her father trains children...To win the Hunger Games. Daphne was once one of those children, so was Kian. Her brother works in the weapons sector, crafting guns and batons and whatever else the Capitol wants to arm its Peacekeeper's with.
Daphne drops her coat and scarf on the hook and kicks her boots in the direction of the shoe rack. Daphne enters the kitchen and see's her brother has bought a fresh loaf and a few other goods- smoked meats, vegetables and fruits and a carrot cake. Daphne hadn't ever eaten cake before going to the Capitol. Her family had not been the poorest of the District by any stretch, but they couldn't afford to waste money on delicacies like cake or chocolate or sweets. Now, her family had dessert every night after dinner as if they always had.
Daphne turns to head upstairs when she see's it. Her skin crawls, hairs rising up her neck. An envelope. Usually, such a mundane thing would not stir such a dramatic reaction but even from where she was stood, she could tell it was no ordinary envelope. It was white as snow, meaning it was no District letter. She approaches it and see's her name Daphne Knight scrawled on it in loopy handwriting. She turns it over in her slender fingers and see's the Capitol sigil stamped into red wax to seal it. She uses her fingers to tear it, earning a sizeable paper cut that causes her to flinch. Injury like that didn't really affect her anymore. After all, to win the games she had earned a vertical scar from her left elbow, down her arm to where her palm started. She had almost bled out during her final battle. Daphne dabs her finger on a tea towel and uses her other hand to finally free the letter inside.
Dear Miss Daphne Knight,
I do hope this letter finds you well. I expect you are relishing in your new found fame as a Victor of the Hunger Games. This year, for our 70th Hunger Games, the Capitol is thrilled to invite you to mentor a District Two tribute. There are 6 months left until the Reaping day, and we cannot wait to welcome you back.
Yours faithfully, President C. Snow
It is as if her name has just been read out by Mayor Maxine Tayne all over again. Her heartbeat thunders in her ears. It was happening again. She was being dragged back into the nightmare. Her hands ball into fists, crumpling the pristine letter under her fingers. Her eyes well with tears and a sob escapes her trembling lips. He was bringing her back. He was tormenting her. He was playing a game. He was in control of the strings, and she was just a puppet, unable to break free.
