The Purest Snow

Chapter 16: What Are The Hunger Games For?

Coriolanus woke to the sound of the Grandma'am belting the national anthem. Once he was presentable, the first thing he did was check the television to make sure Lucy Gray was still alive. The cameras hadn't shifted, and no action was reported.

"Running late," he said to Tigris. "I better get going. Where's Rosella?"

"She was gone when I got up. She left a note saying she had to go to Scott's to practice something? Is there a performance or something today?

"Not that I know of," Coriolanus replied.

"Hm," Tigris shrugged it off. "Here, take this for breakfast." She put a packet in his hands and placed a pair of tokens in his pocket. "And take the trolley today." Coriolanus obliged and arrived at the academy.

The main student body had been told to report at a quarter to eight, so the early birds consisted of the active mentors and a few Avoxes tidying the hall. The only thing being served at Heavensbee Hall was tea, which brought grumblings from Festus.

"If we have to be here early, you'd think they could at least feed us. What happened to your face?"

"Bike accident," Coriolanus said.

"Um, Coryo..." Lysistrata approached.

"Yeah?" Coriolanus asked, turning to face her.

"Have you seen the paper today?"

"No, why?" He questioned. Lysistrata had a look that resembled shock and amusement, as she handed him the paper. He read the cover story.

What Are The Hunger Games For?

A way to punish the districts?

To show the districts we have the power?

To scare rebels from rising up against us?

230 children dead. 230 children ripped from their homes. 230 children forced to fight to the death. For what? So we, the capitol, can prove our strength over them? So we can scare the districts into continuing serving our needs? 10 children to live. "Victors" we call them. Victors of what? What do their victories consist of? The right to live? Survivor's guilt? PTSD?

Here in the capitol, we watch it all happen from the comfort of our homes. In the embraces of our families. In the safety of our birthplace and last names. That's the humanity we know. The humanity we're familiar and comfortable with. But what does humanity for these tributes look like?

Imagine yourself, as hard as it might be, as district born. Imagine having the privilege of being born in the capitol taken away from you. What might it look like? Probably not great. Certainly not what any of us here are used to, or would ever even be strong enough to survive. But let's take it a step further. You're a child. Somehow, despite the malnutrition and inadequate healthcare, you've survived the first 12 years of your life. Before you've had a chance to figure out who you are, your name is in a bowl to be drawn to send you to almost certain death. You're standing there, starving, surrounded by others like you. You've probably grown up with them. They read out your name. You look at faces mixed with fear, sympathy, sadness and relief. It's probably the last time you'll see them. You're shoved into a livestock train, joined by another in the same situation. Maybe you've seen them before. Maybe they're your friend. Maybe it's your first time meeting. But you have a new understanding of each other. You're going to face unspeakable things together. You're probably going to die together.

The train smells of animals and cow manure. That's all you are to the us who are meant to protect you. Don't expect much more. You collect other children along the way. You're so close to one another you can hear their breathing and smell their sweat. There's probably animals in there, rats and bats and such. You sit there, feeling your will to live drift away with every jolt of the train you've probably never been on. Feeling your life slip away into the hands of people who've never met you, don't know you and don't care to get to know you. There's no water and no food. No one to talk to except for the people meant to be your enemies. The children you're supposed to kill. For what? For the government? For the capitol? So your families can be safe to starve at home and dress up for the reapings each year? What's the point? What are the Hunger Games for?

I'll tell you what they're for. They're for many things. Punishment, vengeance, revenge. Payback for the people who took our own families, so here we are taking theirs. It's only fair right? An eye for an eye? But it's also a way to teach us to be grateful. We may not have it perfect in the capitol, but at least we aren't district, right? At least we're not the ones in the arena. We sit back and watch as the suffering and mistreatment of these tributes contrast with our comfortable lives. We watch them behind bars in a monkey cage, begging for food. So desperate for it they'd kill the person assigned to mentor them for it. But hey, at least it's not you, right? So enjoy it. Happy Hunger Games.

Huh, Coriolanus thought. Who would be bold enough to print this? Then he noticed the author at the end.

An article by Rosella Snow, Capitol Academy Student