Author Games: Contest Entries

First Task

Everything Ebony owned was something somebody else no longer wanted. Nothing she had ever had was brand new, there just wasn't the money. Clothes didn't fit, lights never functioned; but because of it, she prided herself on her ability to innovate. She could make anything work; anything fit, and never consider anything useless. Now, standing in front of the mirror, she saw that she was no longer the hand-me-down of District Eleven. She had transformed into something new.

They had scrubbed her skin clean, stripped it of every hair that could have ever been out of place and somehow still made it glow with life. The untamable black curls that frolicked freely around her face had been pulled up for the first time she could remember. A delicate gold clasp held to the side of the bun that her stylists had miraculously wrapped. Her features were striking under very simple makeup-every sharp edge and defined curve giving her a hostile and unattainable beauty.

The soft gold of the evening gown had seemed out of place when they had first dressed her. By itself, it was beautiful. The material swept across the floor, rippling with the light as she walked. It held tight to her torso, slowly beginning to expand outwards to her feet. It made her look almost ethereal, like a delicate angel sent to save the souls of the world.

But Ebony was not an angel. Which is why a choker of sharp, black lace stretched across the front of her throat, connecting with the sleeves before spiraling down the expanse of the dress. The designs were razor-edged and fierce, hard glittering jewels reflecting a dark light back at those who looked on her. And suddenly, the angel was gone. In her place was something different. Something fearless and cold; who looked down upon the foolish and mortal world with not an ounce of mercy in her eyes.

The sound of applause pulled her out of her trance. She could hear the laughter of Vaelyn Xiavia as another tribute left the stage. Ebony turned away from the mirror, focused intently on the stage to her far left, where she would soon walk out into the eyes and arms of the Capitol.

"Now this next one, ladies and gentlemen, is a real treat." The accompanying voice was like honey over razor blades. Sweet, but every word was another throat slit. "She's a beautiful face to go with an even lovelier name, one we'll all be cheering for soon enough! And without further ado, all the way from District Eleven, I give you-Ebony Holbrook!"

She was not afraid. Even as she glided onto the stage, in the eyes of every person who lived, she was not afraid. If anything, she felt like they should be afraid of her. And they were. Even without looking at them, she felt like she knew them already-every petty secret and obvious lie, out in the open for her to bear witness to. Which is why she never so much as cracked a smile, eyes trained on the growing shape of Vaelyn Xiavia. These people were below her.

They were insects under her feet.

A woman in a red dress, with a skirt wide enough to swallow them both whole, sat in the seat beside Ebony. Her hair had been dyed a clashing, electric blue, arms lined with black jeweled cuffs and skin sparkling with glitter. Although she knew the face of the host, it stirred no emotion inside of her. This woman was just another Capitol pawn. Another person trying to make a living in this circus.

Ebony sat beside her, smoothing her skirt as she focused entirely on her host. The woman smiled, red lipstick and white teeth turning upward into what she assumed was supposed to be a reassuring gesture. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ebony. And my, how beautiful you look! Truly, hats off to your stylist." Vaelyn chuckled, looking out into the crowd, "To be honest, I'm a little scared to be sitting this close."

The audience laughed in agreement. The corners of Ebony's mouth twitched into a small, fleeting smile. "I wouldn't worry, Ms. Xiavia. Even if I were to draw blood, your dress would not be ruined."

There was a short-lived pause from the hostess, before she tossed her head back and laughed. "Thank God for small miracles!" Tremors shook her shoulders as she tried to continued, the thought still amusing to her. "So, tell us, how have you liked the Capitol so far, my dear?"

"It's nice," Ebony answered. She could tell that Vaelyn did not like this answer. It was clipped, not the kind of thing one would expect from a tribute. This was their one chance at salvation later on in the Games. Their chance to grab a sponsor's attention. But Ebony was not going to play doll for some colorfully dressed, bloodthirsty Capitol dog with too much money on their hands.

They would either or love her or hate her. She didn't care.

"Just nice?" She leaned forward, closer to Ebony, keeping a smile on her face, "Well, surely you've got to have a favorite part? What is it? The food? The clothes? The color?"

Ebony tilted her head to the side, mulling over the options. "I like the trees."

Vaelyn seemed surprised with her answer, "The trees?" The smile on her face grew then, "That's right! District Eleven. Trees must be your specialty."

"Yes, it is." Ebony's hands twisted involuntarily in her lap at the thought of home, and she resisted the urge to scold herself. She did not want to give these people any reason to doubt her strength. They could take her movement as weakness, which was unacceptable.

Finally, the hostess sat back in her chair, crossing her legs under the folds of her dress. "Well, the trees here are very beautiful, aren't they? But I'm sure you see more back at home, hmm?"

"Yes, I do."

Ebony could see her green eyes dart to the timer quickly, counting the seconds until she got to see the next tribute. "Why don't you tell us a little about home, Ebony? Since we're running short on time."

"Home?" Again, Ebony had to think. There wasn't much about home that she was willing, or able, to tell these people. They had seen most of it on their television screens on the day of the Reaping. Her mother had screamed when they called her to the platform. Which was common, of course. But it wasn't common for her to continue screaming for the remainder of the ceremony. "There's very little to say," she answered at last. "I support my mother and I, and make sure she lives comfortably. Other than that, you could easily read about my district life in any textbook."

There was a chuckle in the audience, but Ebony had not meant it to be a joke. "You must want to get back then," Vaelyn commented. "The Capitol is very exciting compared to District Eleven."

"I don't plan to win."

A silence settled across the audience, her words seeming to echo through the air as even the camera operators looked on in confusion. Her hostess chuckled, "Oh, come now! You can't give up before it's even begun!" she encouraged. Then, a sly smile crept across her face. "Wait, I get it." Vaelyn pointed her manicured finger towards Ebony, "You want us to think you're already out for the count, right? So then you can swoop in and take the prize!"

Ebony shook her head, and for the first time, a smile crawled across her features. "No, you don't understand." Her eyes focused on the audience at last, and she reveled in the silence of each and every person. "I know that I'm going to die-perhaps it will even be quickly. I can make promises of how I don't want to kill, but that's a lie. Once the Games begin-we're all out for blood. There's no one who wouldn't watch the arena burn if it meant they could go home."

She turned back to her hostess, eyes cold and unfeeling, "All I want to do before I go is light the match."