Prologue: My Victor

Paprika Riverbreath(D9) - Victor of the 171st Hunger Games

" I don't want to survive. I want to live."

- Solomon Northup, 12 Years a Slave

When I survived the Hunger Games, I don't know what I was thinking at the time. Joy. Relief. Anguish.

Very little felt like a victory.

That Hunger Games was a little strange in my opinion. A lot tried to kill me. Mutts with sharp teeth that wanted to take a bit out of me, heavy rain that almost drowned me, Career's that thought my score of 7 was a threat. It was frightening to face it all. The whole 'may the odd's be ever in your favor' junk was looking downright fucked when I played the game. The feeling that nature itself was against me(I know it was the gamemakers, but that'show it felt like), made me lose hope.

I survived however against those odds. I'm not the type to cry or beg. My late father wouldn't want that. My sister and mother wouldn't want to see me die.

Now am I saying that I deserved to win? Fuck no. There were others. There are always those that have it worse than me, those that could use a victor. District 12 could be a good example. They haven't won in a while, but I'm far too selfish to live to care about them.

I'm not stupid. I know that the Gamemakers were aiming for me for some reason, so when about ten fucking mutts were after me, I led them directly to the careers. I got three of them killed. One from District 2, and both from the seaside District 4, it was a risk I had to take.

Other than that, I killed two others. A little boy whose name I unfortunately know, it was Hector. He was sleeping and didn't feel a thing. During my tour, I had to see his parent's at District 5. That was so goddam weird. It was weirder that they understood and accepted my apology. I mean who does that? I had dinner with them. They had dinner with the killer of their son. Fuck me, that was the politest moment I've been in my life.

My other kill was this girl from District One. We thought in the ballroom of a castle where the final fight was going to happen. Another funny moment in my life, there were knight mutts that ordered us to take a meal together before we killed one another. Now that was the weirdest dinner I ever had. She almost seemed nice, and she would've been a tough opponent if I haven't plugged my fork in her eye. She didn't last long after that.

Five kills in my name. I live with it. I drink once in a while. It's easy to be a drunk in District 9, being all about that grain and all. I'm not a Haymitch or a Chaff. I don't drink my problems away.

I'm in my mansion(I still can't believe it) in the Victor's Village. Resting my head back on the soft object known as a pillow. I looked down at my left arm, watching my dead father's old watch. It's almost noon.

Usually sleep come easy, but not now. It's because of the Reaping. It's going to start tomorrow.

"Dammit," I mumbled, rolled around her bed. I haven't slept all day, no matter how much she tried.

Fucking Hunger Games. Fucking Patricia. Fuck the president too. I want to say that so bad, but I'm ninety percent certain that my room is bugged.

"PAPRIKA!" a familiar annoying voice called out to me.

My bedroom door opened and onwards a red-headed little brat came to my bed. My little sister began to jump on my bed, "Wake up, Paprika! Wake up!"

"Shut the fuck up," I groaned tiredly, putting my hands on my ears.

"No," Bonny, the vixen, denied. "Paprikaaaaa...wake up. I don't want to take out the water gun."

I put my hands up. "Ok. Ok. I'm up. I swear."

Opening my eyes, I saw my little sister Bonny.

Her impatient green eyes were staring back at mine. Now, what does the little shit what?

"Your boyfriend is waiting outside," my smaller sister informed me.

I threw a pillow at my sister with sudden anger, "He's not my boyfriend!"

"Aha," she said, unconvinced.

Calming yourself Paprika, she's only an eight year old. Not like she knows what romance is.

"Tell him to wait. I'll be there soon. Can you do that brat?" I told her.

She blew raspberries at me and went away. That made me laugh, something I'm sure the drowsiness helped. Was I anything like Bonny when I was younger? I don't think so. Dad alway's wanted to work in the fields before he was executed, which made me want to work and he didn't deny me the work. Probably the best decision I ever made. Gave me a good work effect and the muscle that helped me win in the arena.

I love my sister. My mother, Eva, however, is strained. I keep telling her to get better boyfriends, but she has horrible taste in men. Her, well, her previous 'job' is over. I'm a Victor. She doesn't even have to work anymore. I wish mo -Eva- got something better to do before I became a victor.

Has it been a year since I worked out in the fields like many others in the district 9? Wow. It has.

Getting out of my bed, I stretched after. Got dressed in the regular green t-shirt and jeans. I never cared for what I wore anyway.

When I walked out, I saw Eva working in the kitchen. I looked at the back of her head, just standing there. Doing nothing while she's cooking god knows what.

Should I talk to her? Nah. Rather not waste my breath.

I got outside my home seeing my brown-haired best friend, Colt. Bonny was sprinting around him. Pestering him, no doubt. What is with her and trying to get me to date Colt? I'm fine without romance in my life.

My childhood friend looked back, "Good Morning."

"Good Morning."

"It's evening, Paprika," he mentions. Dam it, he tricked me. "You have bag's under your eyes."

"Aren't you the observant one?" I gave as a reply.

"Just saying," he put his hands up defensively. He probably already caught on why I have bag's under my eyes.

I don't want to talk about it anyway if he asks.

"Are you scared because you're going to be mentoring?" my little sister bluntly questioned.

Or my little shit of sister would bring it up. Why the fuck not? The area around us was silent, while Colt and Bonny were looking at me. Waiting for me to respond.

"Fuck you, Bonny," I instinctively blurted out.

All she did was ignore me and blew raspberries my direction.

"Paprika," Colt said with that worrying tone I wish I could ignore. "I worry," he pointed at Bonny, " She's worried too and your moth-" he stopped himself after seeing my glare. "You haven't visited the orphanage in a week. We're not the only ones worried."

Alright, so maybe I've had a little meltdown where I shut myself out of everyone's contact. In hindsight, I realize I could've done better than lock myself in the mansion.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Then when will you," Colt addressed. His kind brown eyes were pleading, "Please. Let us help. Do you have anyone else you trust?"

Bonny ran towards me, the little clone of myself hugged me tightly. "Come on... Paprika. Tell us? We'll try our best."

I tried to get my sister out of my out of holding on to me, but my heart wasn't into it. She was pleading too. Shit, these guys are making it cliche. And I know they mean it. I don't want to, but at the same time, I do want to. I trust them enough to tell them.

"Do the both of you know that it's been twenty-two year's since District 9 had a Victor?"

They winced, knowing the same.

"I don't think any kid is going to make it this year. It's going to be my job to help two hopeless kid's to their deaths," I stated. Forty-three kid's from this district didn't make it. I hated that. Knowing that even if I help, the District 9 kid's will most probably end up died. "Fuck! Just Fuck! I mean, I know what's it like sitting on that train. Standing and waving in that chariot. Training to get those scores. Pretending to smile in that interview. It's shit. Knowing that your day's away from dying in the arena."

The whole thing is shit. It's the closest word to describe the Hunger Games.

Bonny grabbed my right hand, and Colt reached out for my left. He looked focused on what to say next, "I can't say I know what's that like to suffer through that, and I can't pretend either. Only I know that seeing my best friend to suffer through this by herself is a fate I don't want for you."

"Yeah," Bonny chimed in, "What Colt said."

I looked at my smaller clone, with her red hair, that small nose, and stubborn green eyes. In some ways, she does remind me of myself. And Colt, while not stubborn like me or mine, he was alway's a concerned bastard, and he genuinely wants to help me.

"...Thanks," what else was there to say.

"We'll talk about it later," he promised and gave me a reassuring smile. "I think you should go check on that charity. Now that's something you should go check on."

"The fuck are you on about?"

"We're not the only one who misses you," Colt hinted.

That got me thinking a little, "The charity. Why should I go there? You're the one who runs the damn thing." It's true. Once I came back home, I cried. Then Colt got the idea of me using my new status to help him run a charity. His family is proud that he got his job running at his age. Shit, he's nineteen. I'm impressed too.

"You're the one keeping it going," he insisted. He's not wrong. Being a victor give's out a lot of mo~ney.

Well, that's not the whole story. President Chambers prostituted me to the highest bidder, and to those who thoughts they can get my bod, well, they had another thing coming to them. Like threatening them, and at times beating the shit out of them. It works surprisingly. Except for that one guy, Tom. He got off by my threats, and it got weird when he asked me to whi- eh, you know what? That doesn't matter. I'm not interested in Chamber's shit and I'm not going to do that. I lucked out.

And then, I threatened other Capatolites to donate money stuff to Colt's Charity. That also worked, and the best part is I got away with it. I smirked.

"Well, shit then. Let's get going," I offered an unexpected chuckle. I don't know why? I just felt like it.

I pulled both of them out of the front of my house, still holding them with my hands. On our way, I saw my neighbor(and mentor from my games), Barley Acoles, gardening in his front yard. He saw me, didn't smile or anything, and went back to gardening his pretty flowers. He left the mentoring to me this year, and I guess he deserves a break.

"Hey, Paprika. You're squeezing my hand just a little," Colt complained.

Bonny scoffed, "Stop being a baby."

She and I laughed, and Colt joined in.

God, I love these two.

We went to the direction of the orphanage I visit. The kids there smiled and ran up to me, asking me where I've been. I told them to fuck off, but they kept insisting that I should play hoop with them. I don't know how often these kid's smile, but they like it when I'm there. It made me happier as well, kept my mind of the games.

On the way to the charity, I lot of people were there. Whispering some shit when I came up there, offering goods and food to the homeless and less privileged of this shitty district.

Other's came by, wanting an autograph. Being famous is weird.

Colt said I made District 9 a better place. I try and I can.

I'm probably looking one of the luckiest victors in Panem.

It's just that I wish the two tributes this year could have some of my luck. So, I won't have to watch them die.

A/N: And that's my victor folks! Hope I did well. Some realism and some trauma usually come with being a victor. Paprika was meant to be a tribute in Inferno: The 118th Hunger Games written by TheMayflyProject. But, I made a rookie mistake and posted this tribute on the reviews and not PM. I was such a simpleton back then. I thought it should practice writing, so why not her? Anyway, I hope you read MayflyProject's fic as well.

Paprika was an interesting character to write. Unlike Haymitch, she didn't have a paranoid president to kill her family. Paprika has issues like all victors, but she had people who cared for her and helped her. She lets those Capatolites have a piece of her mind(out of the president's view, of course) and made District 9 better. I think it's possible if someone as the right initiative and knives on some Capatolites junk. I alway's imagined Capatolites to be fragile or cowardly as long as they're not Peacemakers. So, that was fun.

Now the reason I made this chapter is:

1. I felt the need to explore my world a bit. Preferably, in Paprika's perspective.

2. I have a problem.

To the readers. Please PM me Districts 1 tributes. Or District 12. I don't want to continue any more prologues and move on with the reaping.