I read The Hunger Games a while ago, and have recently been thinking, "What about the other District Twelve contestants?"
"And the male tribute for District Twelve is… Baenin Proimos!"
My heart plummeted as I walked up onto the stage. No one made a sound, except for my mother, who let out a loud sob. I trudged up the steps to stand next to Luxi Mornheart.
She was the butcher's thirteen-year old daughter and she lived with her family of six over the shop. Her older brother competed in the games three years ago and died sixth. I gave her a smile, showing support for this girl who was three years younger than me.
I vowed to be like a brother to her and avoid her once the games started. I did not want to be the one to kill this girl.
"I give you, the Tributes for District Twelve!" sang Effie Trinket. She had just started doing this job two years ago. There was a general applause, especially from Haymitch Abernathy, my best friend.
The mayor started reading the Treaty of Treason, the same way he has done it every year since I can remember. It's long, and boring, and I have to stand throughout it.
Haymitch and I became friends when we were seven, he was a merchant's son and I was just some boy from the Seam. We were meant to be. His father bought my mother's herbs and my mother cuts his family's hair. He was always talking about how amazing it would be if one of us were picked to be in the games. Well, here you go, Haymitch.
The Mayor finishes the Treaty of Treason and Luxi and I are whisked away to the Justice Building for last goodbyes. There is a good chance neither of us will come back. I have a feeling that most of the male Tributes, especially the Careers, will be a lot bigger than me, even though my father says I could haul a cow to the Capitol and back in a day.
Oh man. I think as my mother, father, and brother walk in. I don't want to cry, because that would make me look weak.
"Oh, my baby," my mother says before collapsing into my arms. She sobs like there's no tomorrow. My father looks as though he will never smile again and Mikal looks as of he wants to join my mother in sobbing into my arms. Mikal is eleven, with wispy, blonde hair that falls into his blue eyes. And I love him more than anything in the world.
"Make sure to water the plants," I tell him. It's too much for Mikal, and he crumples to the ground in sobs that rack his body. He will be entered in the Reaping next year, and all of my hopes now go to his name never being pulled. The Peacekeepers haul them out of the room before I can say a real good-bye.
Haymitch is next. He is full of advice as to how to defeat the Careers, how to win the game, how to survive. I will never learn how he figured all this out. How did he learn the difference between edible berries and poisonous nightlock?
His time is over all too soon, and the Peacekeepers drag him away, while he's still yelling tips about how to break someone's neck by putting them in a headlock. Like I would ever be brave enough to try.
Luxi and I are lead to the Train Station, where we will hop on board a train bound for the Capitol and the Hunger Games.
~o~O~o~O~o~
Dinner is awkward. We don't actually have a winner from District Twelve to mentor us, because the first (and only) winner died three years ago. Something about an allergic reaction to some sort of foreign food, like peanut butter. Luxi and I just eat our food silently, and Effie stares at us, apparently horrorstruck.
"How could you?" she gasped. "You have the worst table manners I have ever seen!" I didn't think our manners were that bad. I mean, I was eating with a fork, wasn't I? It was better than what I normally did; shoveling it all into my mouth in a matter of seconds. Mother always said I could eat enough for a family of six.
"Don't think about them," I thought to myself. It would be too painful if I didn't make it out of the Arena.
Our train is suddenly flooded in light and Luxi and I rush to the windows. Outside is a sparkling city of grandeur just like the place we saw on TV. The crowd is clustered around the train and they are all gawking at us.
"You'd think they'd never seen a tribute from District 12 before," I comment, looking out at the brightly colored faces. Luxi laughs.
The two of us are ushered to a building where the stylists take over. Celina, the woman preparing me for the stylist, starts off by sticking pieces of fabric to my face and ripping off all facial hair. My eyebrows are trimmed and nose-hairs snipped. She also sticks fabric under my arms to remove that hair. I am a little offended that they won't let me have my hair, one of the only things still belonging to me.
I sit for three hours while the prep team scrubs me down and makes me "presentable." I still haven't met my stylist.
Another half hour later and the most eccentric woman I have ever seen walks in. Her hair is bright blue and her skin has been dyed a similar hue. Glitter and sparkles line her eyes and a purplish lipstick lines her mouth. She presents herself as "Miranda."
The prep team has stripped me down to just my skin, and Miranda circles me, checking for flaws.
"Well, the team did a good job," she said. "Why don't you grab your robe and we'll have a chat on the sofas?"
A table pops up between the two red sofas and it is loaded with treats and goodies that I have never been able to taste, but have seen in the candy shop and bakery.
"About your costume," she starts. "I think we should do something the crowd will remember. And you may not do anything against my idea." I get a little nervous. It has to be something bad. Nothing else would make her say that.
"I hope you aren't too prideful," she says.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Luxi and I are loaded onto a chariot. We are both wearing coal mining hard helmets. And we are covered in coal dust.
But the worst part is, we are both stark naked.
As the crowd catches their first glimpse of us, a resounding gasp runs through the crowd. Who are these kids dressed in nothing? I can almost hear their thoughts. If I weren't covered in coal, I would be bright red. We parade around the city and past the President's house. It is well past sundown now.
The chariot pulls back into the Training Center. I can tell we did not make a lasting impression. No one will remember the naked teens from District 12.
o*o*o*o*o*o
Dinner is weird again. I finish as soon as possible and head back to my room. The elevator shoots up at least thirteen stories. It is kind of daunting.
My room is huge, probably bigger than our house back in the Seam. Long, red curtains hang over a giant window that looks out over the city. A bed bigger than any I have ever seen sits between the two windows. Buttons are everywhere, doing who knows what. My bathroom is big, too. There is a bathtub and a shower and a big sink and more body soaps and shampoos than anyone in the Seam could have seen in their entire life. I am slightly overwhelmed.
The water in the shower is nice and warm. I select a shampoo and soap that don't seem too excessive. My nose can't handle any more scents. I am blow-dried by a number of heaters that come on as soon as I step onto a mat.
Tomorrow, the Training begins. I'm going to need my rest.
Eeeeeek!! I like it so far. Reviews!
Name pronunciation:
(12) Baenin- Bay-n-in (His brother's name is pronounced Michael.)
(12) Luxi- Lucks-E
You should remember Haymitch.