The 74th Annual Hunger Games
We know The Games through Katniss's eyes, but do you know The Games through who they're meant to be viewed by?
Part 1
"The Tributes"
1
My bed was irresistibly warm. I stretch my arm out from under the covers and turn over onto my side, pulling the goose feathered comforter that was on the top of my bed over my body. Nothing could make me leave this soft, warm nest of blankets and pillows today. I'm going to go stay here all day.
And there was nothing to stop me from doing it. Except for of course, the fact that today was the day of the reapings.
I opened my eyes. Sunlight poured in through the large windows that were behind the head of my bed, and I sat up. The walls of my rooms were covered in posters of victors from previous years. There are a lot of posters of Finnick Odair, the winner of the 65th Hunger Games, because I feel that he is by far the best looking victor out there. Sure, he's 8 years older than me, but a Capitol girl can dream.
At my feet, my slippers waited for me. They were old, pink and grubby, but I loved them. The way they molded to my feet, the fuzz that tickled my toes, it was great. My parents often offered to buy me new ones since we had plenty of money to spare, but I always refused.
I slid into them and stood up, stretching and yawning. My eyes squint against the sunlight as I turn towards the windows to close the shades. Don't want the whole Capitol to see me dressing, right?
Searching through my closet, I settle on something my mother got me for the 14th birthday. A bright blue, ruffled shirt with a silver sleeves. Tight, white leather pants. I pull my hair up into a bun and put a white hair piece in front of it that mimicked branches on a tree. My mother doesn't want me wearing too much make-up yet, which blows my mind since she wears a ton, so I only apply the amount that I need.
Shimmering silver eye shadow on my eyelids, a dark brown eyeliner that makes my eye lashes look thicker, and fake eyelashes to bring out my eyes. Blue lipstick with silver sparkles in the wax, fake nails painted blue with a silver French tip, and to complete the look, long, sterling silver hoop earrings. I had a different set of make-up and nails for each of my outfits, something important to have if you want to stay ahead of the ever-changing Capitol Fashions.
I padded down the twisting spiral staircase we had that led to the second floor in my slippers and approached the kitchen. Usually when it's the day of the reapings, my mother will make a fabulous breakfast to celebrate. The Reapings Day is sort of a holiday here, something to be celebrated. If anything, it's the best entertainment we Capitol folk have. To keep from getting bored while there aren't The Games to keep us busy, we usually decorate our bodies. Either dying our skin neat colors, or getting tattoos, it's the only way we keep ourselves busy while we wait for the next games. Obviously, there's the Victory Tour that comes along in between each Game period which helps us comb over our boredom, but things here in the Capitol are just boring. There's nothing to do.
The houses here are grand, of course. They're huge, often made of wood, but covered in pretty materials and paint to make it seem more lively and beautiful. I live on a main street, so many people drive by our house to get to their jobs or to the President's Mansion for tours. Only the very rich get to do that though, because it costs a fortune to take a tour. People often find money to do it though. I mean, it's the President's Mansion, and who wouldn't want to see that?
Or, if you get bored, you can take a train to one of the previous game arenas. All of them are preserved, kept safe and clean so that citizens can walk through them. You follow a path they've set up for you and walk around. You can see where the tributes have died, where the final battle took place, and if you're lucky you can even take part in the reenactments of deaths. My mother went with my father to one of the Quarter Quell arenas for their honeymoon. The 50th games had ended a few days before their wedding, so they thought it was the perfect spot.
My father took part in one of the reenactments there, he played the Victor of that year- Haymitch Abernathy I think- and my mother played his district partner Maysilee Donner. They did the scene when Maysilee was pecked to death by a bunch of pink birds, and Haymitch held her hand while she died.
The smell of bacon was overpowering, and I couldn't stay away anymore. Walking into the kitchen, I closed my eyes and took in the scent of the greasy meat. I knew I needed to watch my weight, but I could already feel the fat sitting on my tongue. But I can't eat too much or I might gain weight.. Fat people in the Capitol were always met with dirty looks, "A girl that is fat is as good as a rat", my mother tells me. The horrors of having an overweight daughter in the Capitol.
"Happy Reapings!" my mother greeted me as I walked into the kitchen. I took a seat at the island and responded with,
"May the odds be ever in your favor!"
She smiled at me as she slid some bacon onto my plate, "Not too much now" she warned me, "don't overeat while there is still more food to come!"
I answered with a weak, "Yes mother" before shoving the bacon into my mouth. Right now, all I wanted was to taste the grease on my tongue.
"Are you going to Livia's house to watch the Reapings today?" my mother asked. I almost always went to Livia's house to watch the Reapings. She's my best friend, and she is the only one that has the great taste in boys that I possess as well.
"Probably" I told her after I had chewed and swallowed my food. I glanced up at my mother to find a slightly hurt expression on her face before it quickly went away. That was the thing with my mother, if she was disappointed, you would almost never know it unless she told you.
"But I can ask if she would like to come here instead" I said to her, "so we can all watch together."
My mother beamed, her bright red lips parting to reveal perfect white teeth. I smile back, though my teeth aren't as white as hers- yet. Mother says I can get them bleached once I'm sixteen, so I only have one year left of waiting.
Livia is my only best friend. We met in elementary school when our teacher paired us up for a project we had to do together. We were only about nine at the time, and I had never even seen her before, let alone talk to her. So when we had to work together, it was a bit difficult since I had trouble making friends back then.
She was friendly with me, which was definitely a perk, and she was an amazing artist. It was lucky that I was paired with her, since the project had to do with drawing and painting, and I didn't have any skill in that area. Of course, we were only nine, so it wasn't a masterpiece, but I could only idolize her skill.
I still do.
Another piece of sizzling bacon enters my mouth, and flavor bursts onto my taste buds. I started to eat it more slowly, taking my time with the chewing so I could savor it, but my mother told me to eat as much as I liked.
"The train from District 10 rolled in this morning with fresh meat, so there's plenty to be cooked!"
One of the many pleasures of living in the Capitol.
She poured more sliced meat onto the pan and began cooking it, whistling as she did this. I favored my mother and her side of the family. We both have light blonde hair, though she dyed hers to be a vibrant auburn color. Our hair was long too, falling past our shoulders in flowing locks, though you couldn't tell if we walked by you on the street since we almost always wear it pinned up.
I have the same pale skin as her also, which looks almost white if I stood in the light. We have the same color eyes, a green so dark it almost looked blue.My eyes were my favorite feature. Her slight frame was passed down to me as well, and I'm usually teased about how small I am compared to the other girls at school.
Those broad shouldered, tall, model skinny girls at school that I wish I could tear the heads off of. But its okay, my family has more money than their families do. I always have the right clothes, and the right make-up and accessories while those lower-class girls are stuck in yesterday's fashions. So I win the battle.
"I got you a Reaping present" my mother informs me while I shovel down my eggs. I look up, and her eyes are glittering with excitement. Smiling, she points over to the living room.
Getting up, I walk over and see the bag sitting on the coffee table. Can't help but smiling as I rip the tissue paper out, I see the gift sitting at the bottom of the bag. I gasp as I pull it out, cupping it in my hand as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
Which of course, it was.
A small, silver necklace with a trident charm attached.
"Keep looking. There's a bag full of charms for you to add on. I got you a charm for each of your favorite Hunger Games. I was thinking that each year you could add a charm on, which is perfect since this year's is about to begin."
"Mother…" I was at a loss of words. This was amazing. The trident was meant to represent Finnick, obviously, my favorite victor, but when I pulled out the bag from the bottom, there were many charms for me to pick from.
A heart for that tribute Titus that would rip out his victim's hearts and eat them. An axe for the girl Johanna Mason, who pretended to be weak so people would leave her alone, but then showed the awesome ability of wielding an axe. And a tooth for Enobaria, who ripped out people's throats with her teeth.
I got up and hugged her before clipping the necklace on around my neck. She seemed to relax once she realized that I loved it, and then she became flustered, telling me, "Stop! Quick! I'll ruin your outfit if you hug me!", and I could only laugh. This was worth ruining an outfit I got a year ago.
She sighed as she looked me over, "Oh, Coila I've ruined your shirt."
"Its fine mother" I told her as I smoothed out my shirt. I showed her, "See? It's fine. Good as new." And she smiled, happy that she didn't destroy my clothes, but I don't see how she could.
"When are we going to go out?" I ask, throwing away the bag my present had been sitting in. We could always buy another.
"Whenever you're ready!" my mother exclaims, which really means at least 20 minutes, the time she would need to get herself presentable.
"I'm ready now" I tell her, and as predictable, she runs up the stairs to fix herself. On the day of the reapings, my mother and I will take a train to the center of the city and give ourselves a beauty day, just like the tributes get before they're presented in their costumes and pulled down the road in chariots.
My mother enjoys doing this more than I do, but I'll have to admit that it's fun to do something with her for once. Usually I'm at school, and she'll be at work, so we only see each other at nights. Today though, it's a Sunday. So we're both free.
She hops down the stairs, barely containing her excitement, and I put on some shoes and grab a coat. My mother grabs her pocketbook and shoulder bag, puts on a frilly red hat to match her outfit, and we leave our house.
She babbles to me as we walk to the train stop, but I can barely understand what she's saying, so I tune her out. The streets are paved with cement, but when they were making the concrete they must have mixed a metal in with the rock, because it shines a silver color in the sunlight.
Houses line the street, all closely compact and almost touching. They're all different colors, from blue to green, yellow to red, and there's even a bright pink house that belongs to an old lady that used to be a stylist for the District 4 Hunger Games tributes.
The sun shines in my eyes, and I can smell people cooking food for the big parties they're going to have this afternoon through their open windows. My mother pokes me in the stomach and then between the shoulder blades.
"Coila, suck in your stomach! Pull your shoulders back!" she nips at me.
I follow her instructions, but once she turns back around to continue babbling I roll my eyes. The train arrives almost as soon as we get to the stop. We scurry aboard and take our seats, and watch on the television that's at our booth the pre-reaping show.
The pre-reaping show is when they go about and interview the key people that are participating in the Games. They interview people like the President, the Head Gamemaker, the escorts, the prep teams and of course, the stylists. The stylists are my favorite part because I love seeing what they design and how they plan on making the outfits.
Right now they're interviewing the Head Gamemaker, which means we missed the President. A scrawny man with a microphone stands next to a tall, imposing man and holds the mic out to him, asking,
"So, Seneca Crane, how does it feel to be this year's Head Gamemaker?"
The tall man who I assume is Seneca smiles slightly and says, "The same as it felt to be Head Gamemaker the last two years in a row."
"How cocky" my mother says in a hushed voice, "I don't like his attitude."
The reporter asks, "What do you like the best about being Head Gamemaker?"
Seneca tells him, "The thing I like the most would probably be the many different options I have in designing the arena. I can do whatever my heart desires, and I think that it's the thrill that makes being Head Gamemaker so much fun."
"Interesting" the reporter says, but then he puts a hand to his ear and turns back to the camera before saying, "It's time to take a break, but when we come back Seneca will be here to answer more questions from our viewers before we move on to interview our escorts."
The reporter signs off and the screen goes black before a commercial for the Games comes on. They need to get as much advertising out there as possible while there are only a few hours left before it starts.
The commercial shows all the District's seals in order, and next to each seal the probability of that District winning. District 1 has a 20% chance at winning this year. They're my mother's favorite because they make the luxury items, and she's all about luxury.
District 2 has a 30% chance at winning, while District 3 has only a 6% chance. District 4 has an 18% chance at winning, and I'm a little disappointed with that probability because they're my favorite District. I like how almost every year the boy tribute has his shirt of when they ride in the chariots. District 5 and District 6 both have a 4% probability, while Districts 7 and 9 have a 5% probability, Districts 8, 10 have a 2% probability, District 11 has 3%, and poor District 12 only has a 1% probability.
The television clicks off momentarily as the train stops to let people off. My mother and I get up and step off the train, and I follow her down the sidewalk to her favorite beauty store, Priscilla's prep shop. The outside of the store is a bright pink color, and is covered in plush pink fabric. When you walk inside, all you can smell is cheap perfume, and it makes me gag every time, though my mother inhales deeply and smiles, saying, "This place smells like home!"
We sit down in plush pink waiting chairs and watch the wide television set that Priscilla has set up so that her customers can watch the pre-reaping show. People almost always stay at home when it's the day of the Games so that they can watch the show and place bets on which District is going to win this year.
As my mother signs us in for our appointment and chats with the receptionist, the reporter says goodbye to Seneca and introduces us to this year's escort for District 1. They always start at 1 and work their way up.
The reporter introduces us to a pale, tall woman who looks to be in her late forties, but you can almost never tell how old they really are because escorts and stylists almost always get surgery to make them look younger. She tells us her name is Galla, and when she speaks her sickly purple lips part and reveal small, white teeth with swirl designs inlaid with gold. She plays with her blonde curls as she talks about how thrilled she is to be an escort this year, and how she'll make sure that the Tributes from District 1 will always be on time, and that they'll be sure to look their best.
A lady calls my name and leads me behind a door where they'll work on me. She tells me to take off my clothes, and to put on the robe that is laying out for me. I do as she says, and when I'm done she walks in and starts talking to me about what I'd like to have done.
I rub my hand along the fabric on the robe and I tell her that I want the Tribute Special, which is the only Special I know since I only come here once a year with my mother to get remade for the Games. She nods and leaves to get the things she'll need, and I lean back against the chair.
Basically, the Tribute Special is when they wax your body, pluck your eyebrows for you, condition and cut your hair so that it compliments your face and body proportions perfectly, and scrub your body clean of all dirt and old skin.
She leads me first into the back spa area where I'll take a bath in warm salt water. After a twenty minute soak, a lady comes over and scrubs each part of my body with a soft sponge that removes all dead skin from my body. When I look in the mirror, my body looks soft and it has a healthy glow to it.
I'm then put into a room where they're going to give a waxing, but after a few minutes of waiting an attendant tells me that they're a bit back-logged, and that it'll be a few more minutes. They turn the television on for me and then leave me alone in the room.
Currently they have the District 12 escort being interviewed, and the first thing I notice about her is her hair. A pink wig is settled on the top of her head, and I can tell it's a wig because it's slightly off-center. I think she looks silly, but I have a feeling that my mother would love it.
She informs us her name is Effie, and her voice has a very high pitch to it. Just as she is about to talk about how lucky the District 12 tributes will be to have her, the woman I assume is going to do my waxing walks in and the television is shut off.
R-ii-i-pp-p! My hair is ripped off my leg in one final tug, and it's all I can do not to scream. I'm familiar with this pain of course, it's not my first time getting wax job, but every time it happens the shock of how much it hurts is renewed.
She moves onto my arms and I dig my nails into the chair. My arms are done faster than my legs, but the pain is the same. My eyebrows are easier, and they don't hurt as much, but the plucking takes so much longer than the waxing does.
When they wash my hair, they scrub with their nails instead of their finger tips. It hurts, but once they rinse and condition it, my scalp feels cleaner than it's ever felt. A woman blow dries my hair, and another starts to cut it. They style it so that it looks like a bob, only it's about 2 inches longer. I thank them when they leave and get dressed. The woman that brought me to the room comes for me and leads me out to the waiting room where I see my mother waiting. She looks nice, her hair pulled back into a bun topped with her hair piece, and she pays the woman before we leave to return home.
On the train ride back we get to see the stylists from Districts 4 and 5, who tell us that they have something marvelous in mind for their tributes. I start to get excited, because soon the Games will get started, and I can't wait. I have a feeling that this year's Games will be especially good because last year's Games were a bit boring. Almost no gore or fighting because most of the tributes were killed by poisonous snakes.
When we get home I call Livia and tell her to come over. The Games start soon, and I want her to be here so we can gawk over the gorgeous male tributes.
The doorbell rings and my mother runs over to answer it. I get up thinking its Livia and peek around the wall to try and get a glimpse of who it is, but my mother's bulky clothing gets in the way of my view.
Once I hear his voice though, I had to keep myself from running over to the door. I have to show patience, poise, and class if people come over to our house, just like every other Capitol Citizen that is graced with a guest does. So, instead of running over, I roll my shoulders back and collected myself just how my mother had taught me before walking over to the door.
When he sees me, he bows to show respect before raising his head up to look at me, a mocking smile on his face. My mother steps back and invites him into the house, so he glides in through the doorway.
"What brings you here, Cassian?" my mother asks, closing the door behind him.
He smiles at me before turning to my mother, "Coila invited me over to watch the Games."
He was lying. I never invited him over, but my mother was too happy that a boy had come over to watch the Games with us to notice the look of disgust on my face.
She was trying to contain her excitement, and I know what she's thinking. That this means I was romantically interested in him and I wanted to spend every minute with him. But there's nothing romantic between Cassian and me. I pause and think for a second; do I wish there was something going on between us? Yes. He's incredibly handsome, with naturally dark hair and striking blue eyes, but I didn't want things to be awkward for us either if it didn't work out romantically.
We've been friends since I was 11, and he was 12.
I had been with my father the day we met, buying new paint because my mother wanted to redo the living room. We had gone into the shop, but I hadn't liked the smell and how cramped it was, so he had let me go to the playground that was across the street to wait for him.
I was sitting alone on the seesaw, staring at the shop and waiting for my father to come out, so I didn't notice him until he tapped me on the shoulder. When I turned to face him, he walked to the other end of the seesaw and sat down, sending me upwards.
He started moving us up and down- since his legs could touch the ground and mine couldn't- in gentle, rhythmic motions until I saw my dad leave the shop with two cans of paint in his hand. I told him that I had to leave, so he lowered me to the ground and I got off.
When I was walking to my dad, it was first time I had ever heard him speak.
"My name is Cassian." He told me. I looked back and smiled, waving, before I crossed the street and met with my dad. I didn't realize that I hadn't told him my name until I was home.
At school the next day I started to notice him everywhere. In the morning before school started, him walking in the halls, at lunch, open play (a time after lunch we had to just run around before class), and at dismissal. Turns out he was even on my bus.
After a few months of seeing him around, I finally worked up the nerve to talk to him. I don't know why I was so nervous, but talking to him in the halls just scared me. At lunch one day he was sitting alone by himself at a table. Livia was home sick, so I had been eating by myself as well, so I swallowed my fear and walked over to his table.
He watched me sit down and lay out my lunch. I sat there awkwardly and took a bite of my sandwich before he said, "You know, you never told me your name."
Slowly swallowing my sandwich, I told him, "Coila."
He nodded and I took another bite before he said, "Cassian and Coila. It even has a nice ring to it."
I choked on my sandwich, and all he did was watch. His bright blue eyes popping against his dark hair, staring at me as I was choking. Eventually, before it was too late, a teacher noticed and saved me from suffocation by sandwich.
"Nice necklace" Cassian tells me as he walks over to me. I looked up at him, his eyes the same color as they were when we were younger. Maybe even brighter.
"Thanks" I tell him smiling.
My mother turns on the television, and the picture shows the stylists being interviewed. They have to fill in the time when the children are reaped so they can put it all together into one big show. The reapings at the Districts start at two, and they air it on the television at three.
After they interview the stylists from District 6, they cut to the live footage being filmed at the Districts. It showed the children from each District arriving at the Justice Halls and being roped in with others their age.
They show the Mayor of District 12 and the escort I remember to be Effie sitting down in chairs, and they murmur to each other while looking over with concern at the empty chair next to Effie.
Cassian leans against the doorframe while I sit down on the couch next to my mother. The doorbell rings again and I scurry to it, glad that Livia has finally arrived. I open the door and there she is, smiling and looking as beautiful as ever. She squeals and hugs me, more excited than I am about the Games.
Livia is average height, but is model gorgeous. Her hair is the color of a sunset. It's mostly a dark red/orange color, but has strands that she had dyed golden and yellow and pale orange and maroon. The overall effect was lovely, and whenever she moved her hair shifted colors and it made it look like the sun was setting. Her skin was pale, but instead of looking sickly it looked like cream. She was wearing a brown ruffled dress that matched the color of her eyes, and her sandals- which had golden beading sewn on- were to die for.
She smiles and follows me into the living room where the people on the television are interviewing the stylists from District 11. But, she stops dead in her tracks when she sees Cassian leaning against the doorframe.
"Coila" she whispers to me, "what is Cassian doing here?"
"He invited himself over" I tell her, confused about why she would care.
She beams and starts to jump up and down excitedly, "He wanted to spend time with you! If I had known this I wouldn't have come so that you two could be alone together!"
I elbow her in the arm and whisper, "Don't make a big deal about it! There's nothing going on between us. We're just really good friends."
"That's what they all say" she tells me before hopping over to the couch to sit next to my mom.
"No it's not." I tell myself. "Besides, my mom is in the room with us. He's not going to try anything with her here."
I walk over to the couch and sit down while the interviewer finds the stylists from District 12. A woman with dark skin and frizzy blonde hair steps up to the microphone by herself, and I have to wonder where her partner is.
The interviewer asks, "So, Portia, where's your partner? Surely he isn't ditching you to deal with us yourself?"
"Of course not" Portia tells him, smiling sweetly, "He's just putting the final touches on his design."
"Can you give us an idea on what your designs are?" the interviewer asks.
"Certainly not." Portia says, "But I can only tell you that it will be hot."
The interviewer laughs and Portia smiles before being dismissed. The cameras cut to the President, sitting in his mansion while an attendant clips on a microphone. Then he goes into a speech about the History of the Games, and I look over to see Livia mouthing each and every one of his words. I choose this time to go and get a snack.
When I come back with a bowl of grapes they're showing the Reapings. It starts in District 1, and then works its way up. Galla, the escort from before, walks up onto the stage after the mayor says his speech, and goes over to the glass ball filled with names.
"Let's start with the ladies, shall we?" she asks before shoving her hand into the ball and pulling out a slip.
She makes a big deal out of it, and then she finally opens the slip and reads out the name, "Glimmer Abbott". Galla beams and looks around for the girl, and then she spots her roped off in the 17 year olds section.
When Glimmer steps out into the open, it's hard not to gasp. She's beautiful- even if she isn't from the Capitol. She's tall, with gorgeous flowing blonde hair, and when they do a close-up of her you can see her long lashes framing her emerald green eyes.
Cassian uses only one word to describe her, and you can barely hear him when he whispers it, "Sexy".
And as much as it hurts, it's true. She's sexy and lush.
Galla walks over to the other glass ball and reaches in, swirling her hand around until she finds the one she wants and plucks it out. Then she opens it and reads out the name, "Marvel Barlow". A tall, rather skinny boy steps out from the 17 year olds section and walks up onto the stage. He's not much of a looker, even though he's from District 1 where the male tributes are usually amazingly good-looking, and he looks even less impressive next to Glimmer.
Galla holds up both of their hands and declares them the tributes of District 1 before they cut to the District 2 reapings.
A short, plump man who I assume is the escort for District 2 walks over to one of the glass balls and quickly pulls out a name, not even bothering to make it dramatic. He barely gets the first syllable of the boys name out before you hear someone yell, "I volunteer!" and then a boy from the 16 year olds section is sprinting his way towards the stage.
He's strong and muscular, and he jumps up the stairs onto the stage with no problems. The zoom up onto his face and I almost melt. He's so, very good-looking. And blonde, so that's a plus.
"Coila, please stop drooling over him" my mother tsks, flicking me on the side of the head.
"Mother, I wasn't drooling"
Cassian sighs, "Please, there was enough saliva pouring out of your mouth to fill a swimming pool."
I snap at him, "Because there wasn't any drool coming out of your mouth when Glimmer came on the television."
He smirks at me, "You jealous?" and I want to hit him. Of course I'm jealous. Will I ever tell him that? No.
"What's your name, boy?" the escort asks, drawing my attention back to the television. The boy smiles, revealing perfect teeth, and says, "Cato Wyatt."
The escort manages to smile before walking over and picking the girl's name out. "Clove Mullen", and a girl walks out of the 15 year olds section. Her hair is dark, and she's rather small for a District 2 Tribute, but she looks fit and strong.
And so do a lot of other Tributes. The boy and girl from District 4, the boy from 7, the girl from 10, and the boy from 11 as well, who is bigger than all of the other tributes so far.
As the girl tribute from 11 is called, I start to get tired. The District 12 reapings are always the most boring, because the tributes are always weak, always small, and they almost never win. They usually die first in the bloodbath as well. That's why they got the 1% probability of winning.
Effie is shown on stage next to a podium, and she bounces over to one of the glass balls, chirping excitedly, "Ladies first!" and she reaches in, digging deep down into the ball before she pulls one out, trots back to the podium and reads, "Primrose Everdeen!"
They show a shift in the twelve year olds section and suddenly a small girl with fair hair, pale skin and her hands clenched at her sides is walking stiffly towards the stage. She looks like she's about to cry or try to run, and I'm about to get up and pour myself a glass of water when something catches my eye.
"Prim!" the strangled cry comes from the sixteen year olds section.
"Prim!" the cry comes again and people move out one girl's way, giving her a straight path towards the stage.
Just as the smaller girl is about to mount the steps, she sweeps her behind her and yells, "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"
Effie smiles, "Lovely! But I believe there's a matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth then we, um…" she trails off, unsure of herself.
"What does it matter?" the mayor asks, stepping forward. "What does it matter? Let her come forward."
"No, Katniss!" the smaller girl wraps her arms around the volunteer, "No! You can't go!"
"Prim, let go" the volunteer says harshly, "Let go!"
An older male pulls the smaller girl away from the volunteer, and holds her off the ground. The smaller girl is thrashing in his arms, and he says, "Up you go, Catnip" before carrying the girl away.
The volunteer climbs the steps as Effie gushes, "Well, bravo! That's the spirit of the Games!" she seems extremely happy for a little action in District 12, "What's your name?"
The volunteer swallows before saying in a rough voice, "Katniss Everdeen."
Effie makes a face that's supposed to be surprised and says, "I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!"
No one in the crowd claps.
"How rude" my mother snipes, "no one is even clapping for that girl up on the stage!"
Then, unexpectedly, every person in the crowd touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and holds it out to the volunteer.
Suddenly, Haymitch Abernathy, the only living victor from District 12, staggers across the stage and hollers, "Look at her. Look at this one!" he throws his arms around her shoulders, "I like her! Lots of…" he stops and thinks for a bit before yelling, "Spunk! More than you!" he tumbles towards the front of the stage and points directly into the camera, "More than you!"
Then, just as my mother is about to say something horrid about the man who's victory she celebrated for her honeymoon, he falls off the stage and knocks himself out. I almost pee myself as I laugh at his ridiculousness. It's crazy, the things that people in the Districts do. They get drunk and then embarrass themselves in public; or they try and rebel against the Capitol.
Haymitch is rolled away on a stretcher and Effie fixes her wig as she yells, trying to gain control, "What an exciting day! But more excitement to come! It's time for our boy tribute!"
She has one hand on her head trying to keep her wig straight and she has one hand in the ball, grabbing the first slip her fingers find. She runs over to the podium again and yells out, "Peeta Mellark!"
The girl tribute, Katniss, looks horrified as he makes his way towards the stage. He's a medium height, and he has ashy blonde hair that falls over his forehead. He's stocky and looks strong, and when they zoom towards his face his blue eyes show alarm.
Effie asks for volunteers, but no one steps forward. When the mayor begins to read the long, dull Treaty of Treason, they cut away and show a recap of all the reapings, starting with District 1 again.
Cassian stretches and whistles low and deep before saying, "Well, I think this year is going to be interesting."
I nod, rubbing my arms. Why do feel like this year's Games are going to be more extreme than the others?
Livia smiles sweetly at Cassian before turning to me, "I think I better go home. I'm exhausted and should probably get to bed early, since we have school tomorrow and all."
I want to say, Livia, its only 5 o'clock, you don't go to bed until 10 on a good night, but I don't. I let her leave the house, and Cassian takes the hint that he should leave as well.
"Well, I'm going to go now. Thanks for having me over, it's been a pleasure." He's sucking up to my mother, I just know it, but he looks at me as he says this.
I smile and show him out. Once I close the door my mother is all over me.
"Coila!" she snaps, "Cassian obviously likes you! Why were you so cold towards him?"
"I don't know mother!" I tell her, "I just… want to go to bed right now, okay?"
My mother huffs to herself and I climb up the spiral staircase to my room. I change into pajamas and climb under the comforter in my bed. Then, I try and quiet my mind so that I can fall asleep, but I can't get seem to relax.
All I can think about is that District 12 female tribute, and how I seem to think that she'll have a bigger role in these Games that no one will see coming.