"She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes
She can ruin your faith with her casual lies
And she only reveals what she wants you to see
She hides like a child, but she's always a woman to me."
-Billy Joel
"Ouch, Mommy!"
"Don't fuss, sweetie, don't you want to be pretty like the big girls?"
"Yes, Mommy."
"That's right. Now, hold still and let me finish these curls."
"Yes, Mommy."
After another eternity of yanking, twisting and burning, the little girl began to wonder if any of her hair could survive this torment.
"There we are," her smiling mother consoled, "Now don't you look like a gem! Give me a big smile, my pretty girl!"
Effie swiveled in her seat and beamed, and Mrs. Trinket marveled at her child. At ten years old, she glowed with the innocence of childhood and gave off an air that she would likely stay that way. Her mother would see to that. It would be easy to turn a blind eye toward the cruelty of Panem, being a resident of District One, but Mrs. Trinket had some understanding of the evils of the government and the Games.
In all honesty, she didn't care about the poverty of the lower Districts. She didn't care about the annual quietus of twenty-three children. What concerned her gravely was the safety of her Effie, for whom she would rather die than watch suffer in a bloody arena.
Mrs. Trinket shook her head quickly and smiled again. "My little diamond," she cooed, patting her golden hair. She reached out her hand, and the child took it in both her own.
"I love you, Mommy."
"And I love you," to stop herself from becoming overly emotional, she quickly added, "How about we add some sparkles?"
"Yes, please!" Effie exclaimed, sitting back down quickly. Carefully, her mother began to dust her hair with the shimmering powder. "Can I have some on my face, too?" she begged eagerly.
"Certainly, dear."
"And on my face?"
"Anywhere you like," she whispered.
Mrs. Trinket had protected her daughter with the ferocity of a wild cat. She loved the way Effie still called her "Mommy," still allowed herself to be dressed and pampered like a doll. The only way to keep her safe was to keep her blissfully innocent about the harsh cruelty of the world around her. Effie was still very much a child, and a child can be hidden.
There was a knock at the door. "Felicity?"
"Come in, dear," she answered.
Gape walked in, smiling at his family. "Look at you, my beautiful girls! Come here, Effie, let me see you!"
Effie jumped out of her chair and gave her father a twirl in her powder-pink dress, the same color as her mother's.
Gape scooped her up and spun her around, "You are the most perfect little girl in the whole wide world; do you know that?" She giggled, and he set her down. "Now, go tell the new Avox boy-"
"Raff," supplied Felicity.
"Yes, tell him to help you into your new shoes. We'll be off soon."
"Yes, Daddy!" and she ran off down the hall.
Gape walked over to his wife and pulled a thin box from his coat. "I have something for you to wear today." He opened it, revealing a choker of emeralds and chocolate diamonds. "I had it custom-made to match your eyes." He stood behind her and clasped the necklace in place. "You make green and pink look amazing."
"Thank you," she whispered distractedly.
Gape tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "How are you feeling?"
"I don't even know. I've just been thinking lately that every year," she paused to take a deep breath, "Every year, she's one closer to having her name in that bowl."
"Felicity, listen to me." He turned her face towards his. "We have nothing to worry about. Our little girl is perfectly safe. You know as well as I do that there are at least half a dozen every year who have been born and raised to do this. Think of Shimmer and Ovid. If nothing else, they won't let her."
Her eyes began to water again. "I know, it's just—"
"Trust me," he smiled and hugged her calmly. "Everything will be fine."
They heard a fast-paced clip-clip-clip of tiny heels. "I understand how much this scares you," he whispered, "but please believe me. In a few hours, this will all be over. We'll all come home together, go to sleep, and get ready for the presentation ceremony tomorrow. And we will watch that abomination with our little girl standing right between us."
"Look at me! Look at me!" Effie twirled again, covered in lace and sparkles.
"You're perfect, darling," her father smiled. "Now, let's not be late."
Her parents walked her to the crowd of children and told her to smile and follow along. Her father informed her this would all be over very quickly, and then he would buy her an ice cream. Effie knew the routine. She would sit with her parents and some other adults until the names of this year's candidates were called.
"Why do we all have to come out here?"
"Those are just the rules, my love."
"Does everyone know who they're going to pick?"
"Yes, everyone knows."
"Then why do we have the big bowl of names?"
Gape laughed, "Because this is all just some silly business that silly people in charge have decided to make a rule." They began climbing the stairs to their section, where they would view the Reaping.
"Smile, darling!" whispered her mother. Effie spun and smiled to show she was obeying. Felicity's face sank as she glanced around the stadium floor, filling with a thousand well-dressed children, two of whom may never be seen again.
"Smile, darling," Gape mirrored. He took her hand and led her to the top tier of the seating, reserved for a few select members of the District. The seats were large and velvet, and the champagne tasted like costly celebration.
"Mr. and Mrs. Trinket! What a treat! Have a seat! Take a glass! Happy Hunger Games!"
They smiled and toasted. Mr. Trinket turned around, snapped for an Avox to bring out more hors d'oeuvres, and continued laughing with his colleagues.
"Now, Trinket, who is this precious little doll?" asked Mr. Lapworth, a high government official with whom Gape was recently acquainted.
"This, sir, is our little Effie," he replied. "Go on, darling, say hello."
Effie popped out of her seat, walked directly up to him and gave a dainty curtsy. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I'm Effervescent Trinket."
Mrs. Lapworth clapped and placed a hand on her husband's arm. "Oh, would you just look at that? I just want to dress her up and do her hair!"
Felicity wondered for the briefest of instants if this was intended to be an underhanded insult.
A woman in a glittering, orange ensemble placed her hand on her chest. "Oh, how precious!"
Mr. Spectral, a manager of four or five of Mr. Trinket's jewelry boutiques asked, "Are you planning on training her professionally, sir?"
Lapworth cut him off. "Now, now, Spectral, you know we here in District One find the idea of prematurely training our tributes abhorrent!" This gained a chorus of chortling.
Felicity laughed at that, "Oh, I don't think we could stand to deprive another family of such pride!" Everyone laughed along wither her, allowing her to sigh with relief.
"Speaking of," chimed a high-pitched voice, "has anyone heard the plans for next year?"
"I've heard Seanna and Tyrus Cloud, the twins, are up for it."
"Tyrus? Not if my boy has anything to say about it."
The group laughed again.
"Oh! Here we go!"
Hammil Honeyman, the Capitol representative to District One, arrived on stage, waving his arms to thunderous applause. He held up his index fingers in rhythm with the children chanting, "We're number one! We're number one!" The audience laughed.
"Hello to my favorite district!" more cheering. Under the bright lights, his large, yellow hair seemed to glow. The effect was enhanced by his metallic gold suit.
"He looks like one of your necklaces, Trinket," Mr. Lapworth commented. They chuckled. As Effie hopped into her mother's lap.
"Now, for the moment you've all been waiting for, the moment where we will see who has the honor and privilege of representing District One in these 50th Hunger Games!"
The audience cheered and jumped and clapped.
"As you all know," he took a dramatic pause and a charismatic scan of the audience, "this year is no ordinary Games. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the second ever Quarter Quell!"
The roars were deafening.
"And to celebrate this historical event, there has been a change this year."
Anticipating silence.
"This year, and this year only, we will not be sending two prestigious competitors to the arena."
Outrage! Why? No! Boo!
"This year," another pause, "four of you have the honor to defend your District!"
The crowd exploded with excitement.
Felicity turned to face Gape. She gave him a questioning expression, to which he simply shrugged and shook his head. These sorts of things could never be predicted, and it was no more bizarre than the first Quell's twist.
Hammil walked over to the Reaping bowl. "Now, ladies and gentlemen, our first female champion is," he reached in and pulled out a sheet, "Gleam Dynbrill!"
Gleam was fifteen and stout but had a beautiful face and demeanor. Mentally swift but physically slow, she wouldn't survive the Cornucopia.
"I volunteer!" shouted Shimmer, and the audience cheered with approval. She would be this year's victor. She had the speed of a cheetah and strength of a bear. Her skin glowed like the sun under the camera lighting that followed her to the stage.
"Excellent!" Hammil took Shimmer's hand and held it in the air. "Now, for our first male," he reached into the other bowl. "Flash Ogilby!"
At seventeen, Flash lived up to his name in terms of wit and physical ability. He was a Career candidate, which allowed Ovid to wait to volunteer until the next candidate was called.
Instead of maintaining a boy-girl pattern, Hammil remained at the boy's names and extracted Burnish Wade, who was young, feeble and immediately replaced by Ovid. After the rounds of applause ceased for the males, Hammil returned to the girls.
"And now, the grand finale, our fourth and final tribute for this Quarter Quell is," he reached in the bowl and fished around for a moment, gaining a comedic yet apprehensive response from the thousands of viewers, "Downey Hayes!"
Felicity gasped at the same time the cameras paneled to the girl's confused, bright-eyed face. She knew the Hayes family. They had dinner not two weeks ago. Downy and Effie played tea party together. For just an instant, every surrounding surface displayed the naive twelve-year-old, desperately seeking answers.
"I volunteer!"
The cameras switched to Gleam, who walked to the stage with resolve. There was a tense hush. No one knew what to say, what to think. Evading the situation, Hammil quickly announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, your District One champions!"
There was cheering and clapping and hooting all around as the tributes were whisked off stage and to the back room. Hammil waved himself off, and the fortunately remaining children began to make their ways back to their families.
Felicity sat in shock for a moment as the other members of the party began discussing prospects of the four tributes.
"Four?"
"Can you believe it?"
"I never would have thought of such a thing!"
"Well, this just gives us a bigger buffet to choose from, am I right?"
If Gleam hadn't said anything, Downy would be on her way to the Capitol. She would be prepped, dressed, presented and killed at only the age of twelve. This poor child, who played with her daughter in the summer, would have been just another tally in the Games' death toll.
"Mommy!" squealed Effie. "Mommy, you're hurting me!" Felicity realized she had been holding her too tightly and quickly let go. "I'm sorry, dear."
Effie was quickly becoming concerned. "It's alright, Mommy. I'm ok. Why are you so sad?"
Felicity could hardly speak. "I love you, Effie. I love you so much."
Gape stood up and helped his wife follow suit. He addressed the group with a cordial, "Thank you for the lovely evening, sirs and madams, and I shall see you tomorrow evening!" He then gathered up their lace-adorned child with one arm and draped the other around Felicity. "Come on, my beautiful girls, let's not be upset. Effie, do you want to get a treat?"
"Yes, Daddy!"
That night, after Effie had been tucked into her plush, oversized bed, her parents retreated to their room. Felicity collapsed onto the bed and sobbed.
"Sweetheart," consoled Gape, "everything's fine. She's safe. She's not going anywhere."
She didn't answer, didn't say a word. She just curled against him and cried. For the worst moment of her life, she saw herself loosing Effie, her baby, her little diamond. She saw her short life coming to a bloody, violent end, all alone in the arena. She cried for her daughter, who was brought into this hell of a world. She cried for her husband, who would have felt the same searing pain. But more than anything else, she cried for Gleam, the round-faced girl who sacrificed her own life so that a stranger might live.
"Gape?"
"Yes?"
"I want to move."
For less than a second, he considered arguing, or even discussing this abrupt decision, but instead he asked, "Where?"
"The Capitol, within the year, before the next Reaping. Tributes don't come from the Capitol; she'll be safe there."
Gape kissed his wife on her forehead and sighed. "We'll begin arrangements tomorrow."
Hello! May I simply say that I adore Effie? I wanted to explore her background more, since she didn't receive nearly enough character development in the books. I plan on spending just a few chapters on her youth, then moving more into the pink-haired lady we all know and love. Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? Random haikus? Let me know!
-Elle