I was sitting in his garden waiting; I had to face him there were too many questions and feelings about the games that I couldn't let go. Yes I enjoyed watching people battle to the death when I was younger. Quiet entertaining to watch 24 children with fear in their eyes, and to see the skills that I wish I could possess myself. Maybe if I had those skill I would feel more accomplished in life, my life might have the little meaning that I have been looking for.
Uncle Snow or better known as President Snow to most of the residents in the Capitol was in a meeting with the gamemakers. They were preparing for the 74th games even though it seemed that the last victor had just finished his tour around Panem, quiet boring and idiotic fellow although he was large as most victors are. I met him a few times, mainly because of father's connections and Uncle Snow, I saw him a few times prior to his victory and I was to accompany him in his stay here in the Capitol when he was here meeting all of his ridiculous fans.
"Alice, what must you talk about with Uncle Snow that is ever so important?" I turned so see my younger sister Spikelet waving around a fake double-edged sword that made the tribute from District 1 into a victor, more like a victim in my mind. "Wanting to meet the tributes before this year's games again? Can you convince him to let me come?" Her ebony hair was up in a whirling mess of a bun made to look like a bird's nest with strands of hair dyed an unusually bright green. A smile of pleading grew across her face and now it was hard to even imagine why a 10 year old girl would be carrying a sword that was almost the same size as her own body.
"You're too young," I began harshly. "The only reason Uncle Snow wants me around the few tributes I see is that I am of correct age for them to relate to and I am there to help the tributes relax and have a good experience in the Capitol." It was true that two years ago the victor seemed unpleased by the way the Capitol treated him so President Snow sent me in the next year to make nice with the tributes that were likely to win the games. I was of average age of 15 and I highly doubt that a 10 year old child would be much comfort to a trained 18 year old killer. "Besides if you go meet the tributes you won't be able to sponsor anyone, where is the fun if you can't root for someone Spike?" I gave her a smile; it was both of our favorite part of the games. Going to meet the mentors of our favorite tributes and supporting them, I had a fondness for Johanna Mason, she was quite the character and I still see her from time to time mentoring other District 7 tributes. But after last year, after meeting most of the tributes, I never looked at the games the same way. When I was a child like Spike the tributes were just characters, people who dressed up in costumes, showed off skills and fought. Sure interviews with the talented and charming Caeser would pull little bits of the person out to shine, but to me they were just characters, they weren't even real people in my mind. Just children trained to fight and survive to put on a show for us. And when I was young I loved the drama and brutality, but after seeing and meeting those people, that they have feelings that I experience every day, I lost my enjoyment of the show.
"Young Spikelet, your sister is correct." The low voice came up from behind me and startled me so much that I jumped. It is clear to me that I wouldn't last more than two minutes inside of the arena if the voice of President Snow scared me to death. "Now young child you should go and play, I would like to talk to your sister privately." Spike nodded her head and ran off out of the garden. I took a deep breath hoping that he didn't perceive anything from what he had heard for the moments that he was spying on us. "Seems to me that you are ready for this year's games my child." He took a seat on a nearby bench and gestured for me to do the same. I did as he silently requested in hope that he wouldn't hurt me if I did. He was at first my sweet uncle that I actually had no blood-relation to, but when I matured and after my mother had "passed away" as he put it, I saw his true intimidating greed and need for power. I avoided my own fears and smiled as I stared him straight in the eye.
"I am guessing you still want me to keep an eye out on all the tributes this year as well. And how did the meeting with the gamemakers go? Is Seneca going to make this year just as exciting as last year?" I gave him a mischievous smile and realize that maybe I do have a skill that most tributes have, lying.
"Yes, it seems last year's victor enjoyed your company throughout his own excitement. You did your job well and I am sure that you will do superb job this year. You seem more eager than you did last year." He smiled slyly and I took an unnoticeable deep breath and smelled the sickly sweet rose sent of him. "Seneca seems to have a great location and has some new ideas using mutts. I am sure it will be even better than last year." He stood up and looked down at me, "I bet you need to run along now, do some studying or reading just like your mother did." A malevolent smirk spread across his face as he turned away. Just when I thought I had the great skill of lying he knew what I was thinking, what I was going to ask him, and now he was forcing me to be more involved with the games than ever before, as a punishment I am sure for acting like my mother. I headed home with fear lingering, thinking about how Uncle Snow knew exactly what to say to me, warning me to back off and to stop thinking. It was how he mentioned my mother that scared me. She was executed by Uncle Snow himself, for going against the games. No one but apparently Snow knows that I know what happened. Father was made to watch my mother's death and then force to cut out the tongues of the two people who supported her. Father can barely speak of mother now-a-days, out of fear that he may die. I guess that is the reason he is President Snow's lap dog. I learned this from a women who my father made, the avox that works in our estate. At night I would demand for her to listen to me read stories, my favorite being 'Alice in Wonderland,' which mother named me after. Once I would finish being the cheeky child that I was, she would write stories to me about my mother, how my mother was a hero. I didn't listen or understand how the avox woman came to that conclusion, the victors of the games were heroes, and my mother stopping the games from making heroes wasn't heroic in my mind. But now I see what she saw, and Uncle Snow was showing me how powerful and controlling he could really be.
I somehow found myself at my doorstop opened the door and there she was greeting me and ready to serve. She was an excellent servant done what she is told to do; she can even stand Spike's whiny demands and my moody tendencies on a regular basis. Even father treats her well although he can't be in the same room as her for more than a few minutes, but she is able to make it work.
"Take my jacket off." I commanded. My long neon purple trench coat adorned with a myriad of gold buttons and other trinkets slowly slipped off one arm at a time. I really didn't want my nails to break. She smiled and I threw my bag down, how could she possibly smile after all that she has been through. It frustrated me to no end and acting angry was a way for me to forget what happened with Uncle Snow. She followed me up stairs gathering my bag and cleaning up the path of destruction that I was leaving and I entered my room I saw Spikelet jumping on my large bed watching re-runs of last year's game.
"Alice, look they are broad casting last year's game; let's do some reenactments before supper!" It was a regular thing to do for kids in the capitol although seeing my little sister who was in a bright pink puffy skirt wearing an ordinate matching top seems far from a killer tribute. It was infuriating to me.
"Just sit and watch, you can reenact with friends tomorrow." I fell on the bed and looked at the screen the boy from District 4 just impaled a young girl from District 9. That boy had great skills with a spear. I stared at the screen sweat was dripping down his face and a small splatter of blood scatter on his face. He gave a little smile to the camera and was off, if only he knew that in two days the boy that he allied with was going to gut him in his sleep. I couldn't help but enjoy the show, I was brainwashed and although I knew those kids I couldn't help but watch. "Go get us some cookies and milk." Spike told the avox who was still in the room picking up after me.
"Spike we really shouldn't eat so close to supper time. You can go." The avox nodded and I realized that the games calmed me down some, which scared me. Spike was pretty quite after that fixated on the screen as was I. About three minutes later I looked towards the door and there on a tray two small glasses of milk and two cookies. I grabbed the cookies and put one in my mouth and tossed the other to Spike. The cookie was still warm and the chocolate melted the minute it hit my tongue.
"These cookies aren't as good as they were the other day." Spike mentioned as she took the last bite of and gulped it down washing it with the glass of milk. She was right the cookies weren't as good as they were the other day. We continued to watch the 73rd hunger games rooting for kids real kids who actually lost their lives. There were families who lost loved ones, even though this was in my mind I couldn't stop watching the excitement of the games cheering for tributes, its 10 times better than any Capitol show. A knock on the door brought us back to my room and the door opened. It was my father, his light brown hair was in a bit of a mess and his lime green bow tie was a bit crooked.
"Supper is ready."