Thin As Paper ~Catching Fire in Johanna's POV~

This is Catching Fire in Johanna Mason's point of view, beginning at the showing of Katniss' photo shoot. Hope you like it!
DISCLAIMER: This story does not belong to anybody else. It is not the property of anyone but me, Makenzie Soleil Hampton, and it is not owned by any business, website, individual, or group other than I. Quibblo does not own any material or rights. All rights reserved to Makenzie Soleil Hampton.

Chapter 1

From the Start

I've never actually liked Katniss Everdeen. Because when she, a sixteen-year-old (seventeen now, I think) can create a spark that will lead to the rebellion, why can't I?

Well, I can. And I am. But, sadly, to make it work, I have to protect her. And him. Because if he dies, there's no way in hell we'd keep her alive. I'm not going to die for them, though. They are just two pathetic District 12 tributes that both happened to win in the Seventy-Fourth Games. And I'd actually like to see their tributes die this year, because of them. And not just to see mine win.

I kick back my feet onto my table in my living room in my house in the Victor's Village in District 7. Home. Mine, although is in a small paved road area, is still surrounded by trees. Only one kind lives around the Victor's Village, and they happen to be my ultimate favorite trees, because they produce no leaves and smell magnificent: pine trees. I love their needle-like things that turn orange and fall in Autumn. Autumn is my favorite season, because that's when colors change, from dark, cool, evil greens to the warm, nice, inviting oranges.

The television set is turned on, and no matter what station I turn it to, it will be the same thing: Katniss Everdeen's wedding dress photo shoot. Blah, blah, blah. No one gives a damn about her wedding. At least, I don't.

I call for my sister to come down to watch with me but then remember that she's dead. There's no one left I love. Snow killed her and my husband because I wouldn't sell myself to Capitol admirers. So he came to my house--this was before I'd moved to the Victor's Village--and killed them in front of my eyes by lighting them on fire. He told me that if I tried to save them, he'd kill me, too. So I just watched as my only family died. And that's why there's no one left I love.

They show Katniss in about six different dresses, but I don't really care. It says that Capitol citizens are allowed to vote for their favorite and that's the dress Katniss will wear. Puh-lease. Like anyone cares.

Then President Coriolanus Snow is on the screen, telling us to tune in for a big surprise. Like we have a choice.

Something else happens, a commercial or propaganda, and I nearly fall asleep. But what makes me alert once again, is when it comes back, and Snow says, "Yes, you heard right. It's the reading of the card."

In other words, I'll know what my tributes are up against. Not who. Not who, no, not yet. We have to wait a joyous six more months to know the answer to that. But for now, oh, for now, I must settle with knowing only with what disadvantages they will have.

Then, he says, "On the fiftieth anniversary as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes. And now we honor our third Quarter Quell, on the seventy-fifth anniversary as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

What? This confuses me. I can see that the citizens of the Capitol are also slightly baffled in this way. But Snow smiles, signaling he knows exactly what the words on that card mean.

Realization hits as I understand one thing, and one thing only. How many male victors does District 7 have? Three. And how many female? One.

I am my own tribute this year.

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