Enigma Lane, District Eight

My name is Enigma Lane. I live in District Eight. I've been told I'm beautiful, but I don't believe that. Maybe having long brown hair, blue-green eyes and being freakishly tall counts as beautiful. I don't know. I don't think I'm beautiful. I've done too many ugly things to be "beautiful."

I killed my sister. I didn't mean to. It wasn't supposed to happen that way. She wasn't supposed to...But perhaps I should start at the beginning.

I was twelve when they called my name at the reaping five years ago. In case you're too lazy to do the math, that means I'm seventeen now. I was barely on the stage when my twin sister Lainey volunteered to go in my place. I watched her die six days later. It wasn't the Hunger Games that killed her. It was me. If my name hadn't been called, my older sister wouldn't have tried to protect me. she wouldn't have volunteered. It was all my fault. I am a murderer. I have been for four years now. So why doesn't any take me away? Why doesn't anyone haul me off to the detention center or just kill me? Avenge my sister's death? Because they don't know. They believe the Games killed her. How wrong they are.

I am going to do the only thing I can think of to avenge her death. I will do something crazy. I will join the rebellion, beat up a few peacekeepers. That should land me in the detention center. I don't agree with the people in the rebellion of course. The Capitol isn't to blame for my sister's death. But rebellion can get you sent to the Detention Center. So whatever I can do, I will. I will do so much, the Capitol will want me dead. Or at least they'll turn me into an avox.

That wouldn't be much of a punishment though. I've always been quiet, even before Lainey died. I'm the type of person that tries to say the most with the least amount of words. I guess this makes me hard to understand, but I don't care. I don't like talking.

When we were young, Lainey and I used to go on all sorts of adventures. We used to pretend we were in the Hunger Games, and that by some miracle, we both won. Never mind how we'd both gotten in. Lainey always wanted to be in the Games, even though we didn't belong to a career district. I think it was because she had so much fun pretending to be in it. She trained when she could, using what we had. She was more of a dreamer, where I was the logical thinker. I followed her wherever she went. And while she was busy exercising her muscles, I was exercising my mind. I always had my head buried in whatever book I could find.

Mother and Father were always opposed to Lainey's notions of being in the Hunger Games. Mama had lost a brother in the Games, and Papa had lost a friend. They wanted her to be more like me. Quiet. Knows her place. Never thinks about anything beyond tomorrow. But Lainey didn't listen. Of course she didn't. She didn't care about anyone except herself. And me. She was always trying to protect me.

I like to believe that Lainey would have been tall, too. We'd both been the same height before she'd died, and I didn't have my growth spurt until I was fourteen. 6' 4" was far too tall for my liking, but it helped to think that Lainey would have been that tall, too. We were identical twins, except for our hair. Hers was black, with a bluish hue. I always envied her hair. Mine was so dull compared to hers. It was a very rich shade of brown, but dull compared to her glossy hair. Though we had the same color eyes, Mama and Papa said that mine leaned more to the green side while Lainey's leaned towards the blue. It wasn't bright, emerald green though. No, my eyes were a lighter, washed-out green. But Mama said they were pretty all the same. Lainey and I had always been skinny, too, bu she looked even skinnier
up there on the screen. I guess the other tributes thought that would mean she would be an easy target. My height does nothing to make me seem less skinny. If anything, it makes me seem more so. I've been accused of being annorexic before, but that's a lie. I don't see the point in not eating for the fun of it. There's barely enough food as it is. But even when there is enough food to go around, I hardly ever put on weight. I don't know why, but it's the same with my Papa, too. Lainey and I got our height from him. Mama is short in comparison at 5' 5".

Even though we looked alike, Lainey and I were nothing alike. Where Lainey was hot-headed, I was calm. Where Lainey was loud and rambunctious, I was quiet and reserved. We were complete opposites. But after she died, I began to change. Oh, it was subtle, but it was change. I started being more daring. Jumping from the high branches of trees or darting through busy streets, daring someone to trip me. Lainey was dead, but I would keep her spirit alive within me.

It took me a while to figure out how to avenge Lainey's death. I just punished myself at first. I cut deep gashes into my skin, reminding myself that Lainey had suffered worse. I deserved to hurt. Scars covered my shoulders, my upper legs. Places where no one would notice. I broke my leg once, jumping out of a tree. It still hurts sometimes, especially when it rains. When it rains, I limp when I walk. I broke my finger once too, the middle one on my left hand. It didn't heal right, so it's been crooked for two years now, at least.

It wasn't until I came up with my plan that I stopped hurting myself on purpose. I didn't need to anymore. Soon, Lainey would be avenged.