You can't help it.
I grabbed out for the sheets of my bed, gripping for something to cling onto.
It's not your fault.
I tossed and turn, tears streaming down my face, the cries of that young girl from District 10 echoing in my mind.
It's not your decision.
I screamed.
"Up! Up! Up! It's going to be a big, big, big day!"
The cheerily sound of my mother's voice alerted me to the fact that it was morning, and I turned over to look at her, my eyes drowsy. She smiled at me through her bright red lips, and I could see from her fluorescent yellow wig and startling makeup that she was already prepared for the day ahead.
"Come on, Persephone, or have you already completely forgotten what an important day it is? Honestly, child, you're lucky you have such an organised parent!" She smiled again. "If you want to get this job, you are going to have to start being more organised yourself."
I winced at her calling me "child", a common habit of my mother's. It seemed she always forgot that I was in fact 18. Then again, by Capitol rules, you were a child until you were 18, so I would have to live with my parents for another year until I was 19.
"Okay, mother, I'm getting up." I stretched and slowly got out of my king sized bed onto my cream-coloured floor. Walking from my bed to my wardrobe, I caught a glimpse of the view of the Capitol in my bedroom window. Masses of modern tall-story buildings scattered the city, and you could see all the flying automobiles whizzing in and out of the buildings, heading to their destination.
"Now, Persephone, which outfit do you think would be suitable?" My mother opened the glossy doors of my massive walk-in wardrobe and immediately I was hit with the garishness and brilliance of all my clothes. Walking into the wardrobe, I saw a glimpse of a clown-esque jumpsuit with padded shoulders and a pink tutu with bows attached to it. Neither item I had ever worn.
"What would you recommend, Mother?" I looked up at my mom, startled by all my clothes, most of which I had never seen before. My mother did all my clothes shopping for me, saying that I picked out "tasteless and pale" items of clothing.
It was the right thing to say. A grin appeared on her face and she started searching through the mounds of clothes immediately. To give me something to do, I started looking through my clothes myself, and caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror hanging on the back wall of the wardrobe.
I was boring and ugly by Capitol standards. My hair was a straw colour, and hung limply on my shoulders, not a bit of life in them. My face was pale and white, my eyes a greyish colour and my lips cracked and baby-pink. I was skinny too, which was odd for a Capitol child. You would think, living in a place where food supplies are endless, that I'd be a little chubbier. I looked more like a child from one of the districts.
"Here we go, Persephone, the perfect outfit. Smart and attention-grabbing. It just screams 'escort'!" Judging by her high-pitched voice, you could tell she was more excited about this than I was. But why shouldn't she be excited? Her only daughter was getting a chance to be an escort for one of the districts in the most important event of the year. The Hunger Games.
But that was exactly why I wasn't excited. The Hunger Games is a programme controlled by the Capitol in which one boy and one girl, from the ages of 12 to 18, from each of the twelve districts, are entered in a fight to the death for the Capitol's entertainment. It was made to keep a rebellion from ever happening again, since the rebellion of the districts 57 years ago. It is an escort's job to reap the boy and the girl from one of these twelve districts and to aid them on their journey to the Capitol. But I do not agree with the Games, and now, today, I'm going to meet President Snow and tell him exactly why I want to be an escort, and exactly why I love the Games. All of it will be lies.
"Thanks, Mother, I'll put it on straight away." I attempt a smile, even though my mind is screaming that this is all wrong. But I have no choice. Being an escort is a great opportunity for me. It may not be what I want, but it is a great honour, and will benefit my family. That's all I want.
Mother helps me put on the outfit, does my makeup and adds my accessories, then turns me to the mirror. I can't help but gasp, because I look completely unrecognisable. My dull straw hair is gone, replaced by a yellow and green curly wig placed firmly on my head, and my face is covered in a peachy powder which highlights my cheekbones. My eyes are decorated with an emerald, glittering eye shadow which matches the wig. My lips are a maroon colour, and make me look mysterious. And my dress, oh my dress! My dress is a classic tent dress, a gold bodice covering my upper half, and a pointing out yellow skirt with frills at the bottom going down to my thighs. If I turn around, I can see that there is a large green bow at the back of the dress. For my footwear, my mother has chosen green stilettos with golden studs sticking out of them, making me look dangerous. I grinned. I didn't expect anything less, really. After all, Mother used to be a stylist for the Games, until she had me, and the Head Gamemaker decided that she was too old for the job.
"I love it Mother, I really do! I look... Just like a Capitol member, a proper one." I grin at her reflection and give her a hug. It is not the most comfortable hug, as her dress sticks out and points in my face, but it is not without affection. When she finally pulls back, I wish she hadn't.
"I'm glad you like it." She adjusts my now-tilted wig. "I can already see you up there on stage, reading out the tributes for District 1. Imagine you, reaping a potential winner!"
I laugh. "Now, now, Mother, you can't guarantee that I'll get District 1, or get the job at all. But I'll try, I'll really try."
She strokes my face, carefully not to rid it of any of the makeup. "Persephone, don't talk like that. I know you can do this. You're a Trinket, and Trinkets always succeed."
I wasn't quite sure that was the Trinket family motto, but I was grateful for it all the same. "Thank you."
She smiled again, and I could see the laugh lines on her face, showing that she wasn't perhaps as youthful as she seemed. She had always been a woman of desire in the Capitol when she had been a stylist, my father had told me, so much so that a tribute she was asked to style had fallen for her. She had to keep it a secret, though, as relationships between Capitol and district members are strictly forbidden. After she had found out he'd fallen for her, though, she was always quick to do his dress, and didn't wish him goodbye before he left. She wasn't trying to be cruel, though. She just couldn't let the Capitol know that he was in love with her. She was protecting him, really.
I heard a chink, bringing me back to the present, and I noticed that my mother had taken out necklace from her pocket. She hung it on my neck, and it lay above my chest in gold chain.
"This is the one last thing before we go off to the Capitol for your interview. Read it." Obeying her, I looked in the mirror at the pendant hanging from the chain and noticed that it was a series of letters. I was always quite good at reading backwards, and read the letters in the mirror easily.
Effie, they read.
Mother smiled, and I realised I'd read it out loud. "Your new name. Sounds much snazzier than Persephone, eh? Much more suitable for an escort for District 1."
Effie. Effie Trinket. Yes, I think I rather liked it.
"Come on then." My mum said, walking out of the wardrobe and gesturing me to follow her. "It's time to go to the Justice Building. It's time for your interview."
