imogen van doren ; d1.

Every set of eyes flashed to her.

She didn't need to look to know.

Imogen had become used to it after all of these years.

After all, one doesn't become Toddler Miss Gem, Little Miss Sunshine, Miss Teen Queen Supreme, and Miss Teen District (aka the Jewel of District One) by having stage fright. Actually, one simply doesn't win both Miss Teen Queen Supreme and Miss Teen District in the same year, that is, except for Imogen of course.

There was something about her that seemed to bewitch the judges. She wasn't sure if it was her extraordinary charm or her infectious smile. Or if it was her skillfully crafted interview responses, the dresses stitched meticulously by her mother, the perfectly laid gemstones by her father in the jewelry she wore, or how she danced around the stage while throwing knives that always landed precisely on their targets. The more she thought about it, the more she realized it didn't matter as long as the day ended with a crown laid atop her head.

But today was the first day that Immy learned to be careful what she wished for.

Her name rang out through the crowd as whispers began to break out through the square. The men in white grabbed her without a word, and she forced herself to walk as gracefully as she could towards the front. The stage held nothing but the Head Peacekeeper, two large glass bowls, and now the boy bye her side. It was mere seconds before they were ripped from the stage and forced towards the train.

She didn't even have time to search for her parents before she was forced into goodbyes.

Normally, her name being called was a moment of victory, a moment for celebration. But this time, it was synonymous with death

Or a crown that would be so bloodied-

She wasn't sure if she would want to wear it.