Vy Pryce (District Two)

“If only you had blue eyes.” Brittany mumbles and rolls her own light eyes at her young six year old. As soon as she turned legal drinking age an alcoholic beverage and cigarette has yet to split from her hands, and she doesn’t even try to avoid the smoke from reaching her daughter. There are a billion rules within the districts yet having a baby at the age of fifteen isn’t one of them. Now at twenty-one she has no clue who the father may be, nor cares, and has no direction. A pregnancy had stolen away her life, her training, and any chance of finding love. Her only goal left is making her unwanted baby worth something.

Small frail hands carefully grip a large chunk of a broken mirror, the only thing her mother could scavenge up to do her make-up with. The innocent face smiles at herself within the mirror despite her mom’s words. Sure light eyes sparkle within darkness, but her brown muck isn’t bad. The hope within the little one only brings disgust to Brittany, as her tactics aren’t working. “You’ll have to rely on strength, because sponsors our out of the picture.” Words of the games, her mother had lack to volunteer for, has filled her innocent brain since she can remember. Already death appears to be nothing.

“Try for the pushups again!” She demands and immediately Vanity follows, gently placing the mirror away and getting into the pushup formation the best way her brain can comprehend. If looks aren’t going to bring her to victory, muscles are going to have to do. That wasn’t the way Brittany was trained, nor the way she desires to train her daughter, but she works with what she has. The young undeveloped arms are still so scrawny and weak, but her mother’s determined to have her volunteer one day, simply because she stole her opportunity.

“Wrong!” Brittany scolds loudly and uses her foot to force Vanity’s pathetic pushup fully to the floor. The unexpected push brings a horrible jolt of pain to both her elbows, she knows better then to not complain with any noises though. “Again lazy.” She releases the pin only to cause more discomfort with demanding another attempt. Somehow Vanity pulls herself up with shaky arms, now’s her time to proof herself…after all her mom’s incapable. Anger forms.







“Vanity?” One of the snooty girl’s questions her name as they change within the girl’s locker room of the career gym. It’s rare to start as young as twelve with only a few of them being within that class, but as far as Vanity’s concerned she’s always been a career, following within her mother’s footsteps. Because of training too early her dispositions short, lacking the feminine qualities throughout her body with muscle replacing it. Luckily her face clearly indicates her gender, though the other girl’s her age could careless.

“That’s kind of ironic given your lack of beauty inside and out.” The other girls chuckle to boost up the only one brave enough to say anything. If only these insults actually meant anything, because Vanity only hears blah blah blah. Maybe she doesn’t have the best attitude, with sarcasm being her only language. Growing up with a teen mom can do that to anyone. Vanity’s already following in her mother’s footsteps of being a career; she refuses to care about her looks like she does as well.

Without even thinking Vanity slams her forehead straight into the loudmouth’s nose. A smile grows as she hears the horrible sound of a bone breaking, and her head begins to throb in pain. This time she’s not broken though, and it’s actually the rude girl as blood spills from her nose. “It’s Vy now.” She wipes off the bit of blood on her forehead, her grin staying proud. The other girls’ shut up. Even though they all may have a bit more height, they’re strengths poor compared to Vy’s. Plus none are willing to break a nail, nor a nose.

Just because the others are too afraid to fight back, doesn’t mean Vy’s completely out of paying for her crime though. Of course they take no time to tell the closest trainer of what the blonde has done. It’s not the first and far from the last of punishments for Vanity. If anyone calls her by her real name she has no fear of repeating history, no amount of pain is unmanageable for her. Now she sticks to the guys for friends, as they always treat her as a brother with her lack of hitting puberty. Everyone grows up eventually though.







“Damn Vy, your mom is hot!” Her male friend comments though they are all of young age. Even still Brittany takes the compliment from the fifteen-year-old boy, with all of her fourteen-year-old daughter’s friends being all primarily that age. Soon to be thirty they both appear to be more sisters then anything else, with Brittany’s features being that of an early twenty year old even with her constant drink.

Usually hospitality is not in Brittany’s nature, but with her daughter’s friends being all males she now constantly has snacks for the growing careers. “If only Vanity toke after me.” Her voice sounds sweet though her words are cruel and she even kindly wraps her arms around her daughter, something she only does within public. Affection’s not really in her nature unless it comes to the other gender.

“I’d rather slit my wrists.” Vy has no filter with her words as she shoves her mother away from her. If she wants to flirt with kids her daughter’s age fine, but she’s not going to act all sweet for company.

“I thought I taught you damn respect?” Brittany’s furious with Vanity’s disobedience and quickly retaliates with a slap harsh enough to have the young girl nearly falling from her chair. The other boys react in surprise though have no instincts to step in, if anything this is as entertaining as the games even.

For a second Vy plays weak as she clenches her now red cheek, but a smile lingers upon her face. Before this was something she couldn’t retaliate from, now was different though. “You did!” She quickly jumps to her feet and pins her mother against the wall just as she always did to her when she was younger. With her right forearm she keeps a chokehold, and keeps down one of her mother’s hands as the other attempts to free her neck.

Her friends cheer, as it appears that only two sisters are going at it, not an intense mother-daughter stand off. “Didn’t think I’d be stronger then you one day, huh?” Vy questions sarcastically, not loosening on her grip. She’s been hiding this strength, waiting for the right time to inform her mom she’s no longer a punching bag. Maybe Brittany should have been concentrating on her own fitness instead of only training her daughter. After a good stare she lets go and turns back to her friends.

“Don’t we have a party to get to?” Vy doesn’t wait for a response but leads the way out. The first few minutes are dead silent, but once they turn the corner the boys begin to rant on Vy’s outburst. Instead of basking in this so-called glory she stays silent as anger runs through her veins. Once at the party the drinks begin, and for the first time in her life she flirts. By the end of the night her new reputation begins: training, drinking, sleeping with random boys, repeat, anything to keep her away from the house and her mother.






Everything changes the day Vy finds herself in the same shoes of her mother’s only fifteen years ago. Same exact age that Vanity was conceived, she finds she’s bearing a child. “Of course you’re repeating history!” Brittany’s completely enraged with the news. “No brains, no beauty, just strength! And you get yourself pregnant!”

“At least I’ll be sixteen.” Vy mumbles with crossed arms, sinking into her chair as best as she may with the tiny baby bump. Of course she wouldn’t tell her mother right away about the news, instead she waited until the obvious showed. Either way she finds herself following in her mother’s footsteps, her one desire to avoid.

“You’ve always been retarded, I should of known.” Her mother scolds, though turns out to have the complete opposite reaction once the baby’s born.






Before the baby was born Vy didn’t know love, but once she held Brooklyn in her arms she understood. More important then volunteering was making sure her baby doesn’t grow up the way Brittany raised Vanity. No, she’ll have the perfect life. She will not know training; worries will be far from her sight. For once the family cycle will be broken, through Brooklyn. Though the debate over this goal and being the career becomes Vy’s greatest challenge. Her life means nothing though the bundle of joy she somehow created means everything.

“Blue eyes.” Brittany gleams, as she holds up her granddaughter, ecstatic for a change. This is the age people usually have children though she’s now becoming a grandmother. Still Brooklyn becomes a second chance for both of them. Worry strikes Vy, the only mindset she now has is keeping the little one protected. For once gentleness floods through Brittany though, and Vanity can tell this baby will be raised much differently.

The help is a surprise, yet taken gratefully as Brittany’s never been so kind. School’s never been a priority as Vy’s always been on the slow side. Her teacher’s understand that one day she’ll be entering the Hunger Game’s, that’s for certain. Either she’ll die or become Victor, so forcing a high education is directed towards someone else. Of course she finds herself stuck with her daughter in the worst of times when Brittany promises to be there, but in the long run her private life stays hidden.