It isn't as though I'm not excited for the games. Honestly, I am. This is my chance for glory. Not my brother's, and not my father's. No longer would I be 'Loro Nairn's youngest daughter' or, and I think this is the worst, 'Quiviut's littlest sister.' I would be 'Pina Nairn, the victor of the 68th Hunger Games.'
The thought made the butterflies in my chest start flying again.
To bring home glory to District 1 is supposed to be my ultimate goal. And in a way, it sort of is. But my mind races with so many more that it's hard to concentrate on just that one. I don't just want to bring home glory to District 1, but to the Nairn name as well. If I win these games- no, when I win them- the Nairn family will have had 4 victors in total since the beginning of the games- my dad, my brother, my great grandmother, and then finally me. Only 5 of us died in the games- my oldest sister Velvet, my grandfather, my uncle, and my other great grandmother. Not too bad of a ratio.
My mom woke me up at 5 in the morning, nearly six hours before the reaping would begin. Before I will officially volunteer to sign what may be my death warrant.
No, it will the time where I officially sign my ticket to greatness and join the ranks of my father and brother.
My older sister Vicuna helps my mom with my brown hair, curling it so it rests just above my shoulders. Vicuna fusses over what she refers to the "rat's nest", complaining under her breath as she does. It was impossible to work with, I knew that from experience. If it was up to me, I would just get it all cut off, but I knew that it would hurt me sponsor-wise.
Vicuna, Velvet, and Quiviut all had beautiful hair. Velvet and Vicuna got my grandmother's thin blonde hair, and they kept it straight at all times. Quiviut had dirty blonde hair that he spiked up. I had hair that was stringy and flat.
Life's not fair, is it?
"These stupid games…" Vicuna murmurs. Neither my mom nor I say anything. Vicuna was only 1 year younger than Velvet was when she was killed in the games, and she practically had to beg my parents to let her skip volunteering and quit training to become a hairdresser instead. Never before in my life did I see my dad so upset- I truly thought that they were going to kill her. Of course they didn't, but they forced Vicuna to go into a less glamorous job- she was now studying to be a teacher.
I remember my dad turning to Quiviut and me- Quiviut only 5 years my elder and me only 10 at the time. "What, do you want to quit as well? Are my kids that cowardly? Would Velvet have quit?" He growled.
I didn't quit then, and I won't quit now. I will be the victor of the 68th Hunger Games.
In an attempt to swallow my fear and enjoy the remainder of the day, I watch my mom's eyebrows pinch in concentration as she tries to beautify me. It takes Vicuna and my mom all day to get my hair and makeup done. I wear the same, elegant orange dress that Velvet wore for her reaping ceremony. The dress goes right onto the floor, and it fades into a lighter color the closer to the ground it gets. My mom wraps a diamond necklace around my neck before she finally lets me look in the mirror.
Compared to how Velvet looked, I share an appearance with an ogre. The dress was too long on me- mom refused to cute it to my size. Velvet was much more slender, and her face was much softer. While her icy blue eyes popped with the orange dress, my brown ones became muddled compared to it. My darker skin took attention away from me and right to the bright dress, though I suppose that's not too bad.
"You look beautiful." My mom finally says, placing her two hands on my shoulders.
"I look like a little kid who got hold of her mom's wardrobe." I groan.
"You're signing up for a literal fight to the death and you're still concerned about looks?" Vicuna raises an eyebrow at me.
"Vicuna," My mom says sharply, "It's not a 'literal fight to the death.'"
"It technically is." I point out, "But I promise to do the fighting and not the dying, alright?"
"Just like Velvet promised…" Vicuna mutters in a voice barely above a whisper, though she may of well have shouted it. As soon as the words escape her mouth, Vicuna's eyes widen and she takes a sharp intake of breath as though he was trying to see if we actually heard her. We did. We heard her loud and clear.
I never saw mom so angry.
Mom's hand whipped out faster than I would have thought possible, and it connects with Vicuna's cheek with a thud. Vicuna's head whips to the side and she lets out a loud yelp of surprise. After that, all was quiet. Vicuna brings a hand up to feel the side of her cheek, her mouth opening slightly. My mom is silent for a moment, apparently just as surprised.
Mom never hit anyone. Even when Vicuna didn't want to volunteer, my mom kept her cool and talked it out with her. Even when I smashed a kitchen plate of Quiviut snuck out late at night.
"Mom…" I say softly, my voice rising in what's almost a question. I didn't realize how tense I was until I spoke.
"Vicuna, I'm…" My mom trails off, looking at my sister.
"Let's just… go down to dinner." Vicuna snaps, standing up and turning on her toes, walking down the stairs. Her heels click sharply on the stairs as she walks. As angry as she seemed, I could almost detect a hint of guilt in my sister's voice as well.
I look at my mom, thinking about saying something, though I decide it would be best to remain quiet and follow Vicuna. I reach our living room moments after Vicuna, and my dad stands next to Quiviut, waiting for me. My mom trails behind us, standing half in the living room and half in the hall.
"Ready?" My dad asks, a large smile plastered onto his face. An ignorant, happy smile.
"As I'll ever be."