it takes just one second for a dream to die / ̶m̶a̶y̶o̶r jo

It'd been a long, difficult, tedious, at times excruciating, yet ultimately rewarding five years.

Rooting out the rot that had festered over Calliope Bloom's decade of corruption had been a massive undertaking that had taken very nearly the entirety of her term and resources to achieve. And though the woman herself had escaped the people's justice that she so rightfully deserved, her empire hadn't been so lucky. Though in name it had been Josephine who had done all of that, in truth she was just one single cog in the machine - one woman who had been brave enough to act as the voice of the people, stand against the crushing forces of tyranny and bring about direct, sweeping reforms.

And District Six isn't quite the utopia she'd envisioned or hoped for yet, but damn if it isn't in a hell of a lot better shape than it once was. And why shouldn't it be? The serpent strangling any chance of growth and merging of the economic classes had been slain. The poor were getting assistance - proper assistance in the form of livable wages and affordable housing and health care - for the first time in recent memory. Six had even brought back a victor in the form of Flynn Garner, granting them an unexpected but far from unwelcome year of prosperity courtesy of the Capitol itself. Add to that the loosening of restrictions when it came to inter-district travel and trade, and, well...

Six was far from reaching the same wealth of the Capitol's energy source in Five, or its leader in technological exports in three or the sheer industries of the Career districts, but no longer was it scraping the bottom of the barrel. Give it another five years - five more years spent on building upon the foundations that she had so painstakingly built up - and Six would have built the foundations of an economy capable of exponential growth. Give it five more years after that, and Six would be unrivaled when it came to the brains of Panem, exporting enough doctors, scientists, and technologies to encourage friendly competition against the current monopoly in Three. And five years after that, and an entire generation would have been born, lived, and escaped the reaping with no knowledge of Calliope's druglord state, knowing only of the path to utopia that Josephine had engineered and brought to life out of her very own dream.

And all of that would continue today, in front of Six's nation-renowned college, the very same place it had all began five years ago. Standing behind a podium, facing a cheering crowd of the district's numerous, desperate masses. But there are differences, some as subtle as the salt on a morning batch as eggs, others as obvious as a Capitol pageant. The masses, triple the size of five years ago, yell and holler with excitement instead of anger. Mayor Jo herself is adorned in a simple yet professional white pantsuit instead of the hospital scrubs she'd often dressed in as a challenger. The feeling in the air is one of hope instead of one of despair.

For a moment, she closes her eyes. The hard part is done, she allows herself. The rot is excised. The corruption expelled. The foundations for a new and better future set.

A new and better future for so many. Josephine had taken her own suffering, her own pain, the destroyed dreams of her own son, and had channeled that into a righteous rage against the system that had allowed such abominations to humanity to surface. The apathy, the selfishness, the cruelty of the people in power would reflect in suffering on those they were responsible for. If she had to dedicate the rest of her life to ensuring that someone like Calliope Bloom never rose to prominence in District Six again, then that would be a sacrifice she would make a hundred times over.

It might be too late for her beloved Charlie. But it was never too late for so many thousands that depended on her as their mayor.

"My friends," she began, long the traditional greeting to her people ever since she was but a radical upstart. "Citizens of District Six."

The cheers that followed were humbling even now, five years on. She vowed then and there that if they ever failed to remind her just how important her power was, she would resign right then and there.

"It has been a long, arduous five years, has it not?" Gazing out into the crowd - all there for her, trusting her with their future - was likewise no less awe-inspiring. "But against all odds, we survived. We persevered. We rebuilt. Now, at long last, the fruits of our cumulative labor are near. Now, we finally get to focus on prospering."

More cheers. And despite her usual stoic persona, she couldn't help but smile, just this once. And why shouldn't she? She'd done so much for these people. Would do so much more. With their combined efforts, the dreams of utopia would be coaxed out into reality. With that in mind, what reason was there for her not to smile.

"It was upon our backs that the foundations of our future were built. That we faced the forces of tyranny and corruption, and decided - no more! We will not stand for this any more! From now on, our future is ours to choose!" She spread her arms out in front of her, gesturing to the crowd as a whole. "And look at how far we've come in just a mere five years. And to think, we did that. Not me. Us."

She lowered her arms, her face returning to seriousness. "My friends, I will not lie to you. There is still a long way to go before all of our goals are achieved. Before poverty is a thing of the past and no child goes to bed wondering where their next meal comes from. Before those that wish to take control of their own lives can do so without the obstacles of decades past can do so without any worries. But I say again - look how far we have come in the last five years. And to that, I add - think about how much further we could go in the next five."

More cheers. Again, she smiles. "My fellow citizens of Six, when we all put our minds together, there are few that can match us. We've come so far in five years - but why should we stop there when there is so much more to achieve?" She pauses, and gradually, the crowd hushes along with her. "Right here, right now, on this forum today, I vow this to you - I will continue to dedicate my life to the betterment of Six and every individual living within our proud home - for the rest of my life, yes, but for the next five years as your mayor once again." And again, she raises her hands. "Are you with me?"

The cheers are deafening. Empowering. And even to a woman of fifty four, a woman who has suffered the greatest pains known to humanity and survived them, it's nearly euphoric in nature.

On this stage, in front of her people, she feels emboldened. Powerful. Her dream of utopia doesn't look so much like a dream - not anymore.

She closes her eyes for just a moment, basking in the crowd's energy. And that is her last mistake.

Off to her left, a hooded figure has slowly but surely navigated the crowd, inching closer and closer to the mayor. And though she does not see it, it's unmistakable when the figure makes their move - a glint of silver reflects off the rays of the dying sun, catching the attention of her guards a second too late.

Distantly, mutedly, yet deafening at the same time, an explosion echoes across the forum.

Metal pierces bone in a shower of crimson, and Josephine's head snaps right from the impact of a speeding bullet. For a second, the world hangs in balance.

And then she crumples down, down, down-

And just like her dream, Mayor Josephine Davenport is dead before she hits the ground.