They call me insane. No, not to my face, never anything to my face but a polite smile and slow voice. I'm not sure if I believe them.
The little girl tottering up to the stage is certainly not twelve. She can't be. Her little legs are much too small, too weak. For the life of me I cannot understand how she was reaped. The escort, Vibia, extends her hand to the little girl who isn't twelve as she climbs the steps to the stage. I cock my head. Up close, she looks even younger. She refuses to take the lilac skin of Vibia's hand, whimpering in fright. I have a strange urge to comfort her. I thought I had gotten over that years ago. Vibia smiles plastically and yanks the poor child to the center of the stage. She announces the girl's name again, but I don't register it.
Vibia asks for volunteers.
Silence.
The child sniffles as her counterpart is selected. An older boy, probably sixteen or seventeen shuffles up to the stage. Vibia says something, probably horribly insensitive as always, after asking for volunteers and the two shake hands. By now the girl has tears seeping out of her eyes and snaking down her face. The two are carted off to separate portions of the decrepit justice building, while the other victors, now mentors, and I made our way to the train.
There are three men and one other female, we share the task of mentoring every year, though Caius is getting rather old and cannot help as he once could. We arrive in the living room of the train, and Demetrius immediately asks an Avox for morphling. Quint and Tamora frown at him as he follows the Avox out of the room, but I make my way over to a couch and sit down. His life is already ruined, why not let him find at least one sliver of peace? Caius slowly hobbles over to a chair near where I'm sitting and sits down, mumbling about how exhausted the reaping always makes him.
"Everything exhausts you," I murmur. Tamora and Quint can't hear me, they're busy discussing strategy. Caius replies with a grunt as he leans back and closes his eyes. Within moments he is snoring. Quint glances over and sighs.
"How long did he last this year, thirty seconds?" he asks exasperatedly.
"Thirty eight," I respond quietly. Caius' face does not look peaceful when he sleeps, it is as grumpy and wrinkled as ever. I study this as Quint and Tamora continue to talk; I have a strange feeling that they're talking about me but I don't register anything they say. I look at an Avox as she enters the room, she is a few years older than me and has catered to us for as long as I have been a mentor.
"Please," I nearly whisper. She nods and scurries out of the room. I stare at the door that she exited from until she returns with my usual mug of coffee. "Thank you," I say, staring up into her eyes, the eyes that have haunted me for years. Her eyes are the exact same color as my sister's eyes. The same brown-flecked green. I blink, and I see my sister gazing down at me, smiling comfortingly. I blink again, and I see the Avox, looking at me quizzically, asking if I want anything else with her expression. I close my eyes for a moment and shake my head back and forth to clear it. She takes this as a no and walks away. By the time I open my eyes, my head is pounding. I'm tempted to find Demetrius and ask him to share his morphling but decide against it. I can't stand needles.
I'm staring at my coffee when Vibia bursts into the room with the two tributes. I look up and for a moment and am mesmerized by Vibia's new look. Again. Her skin is lavender with pale green swirly tattoos covering her. She has electric blue eyebrows swirled to match her tattoos and bright red lipstick. Her hair is also blue, but is put up on top of her head in a shockingly normal bun.
"Good day mentors!" she shrieks in her awful Capitol accent. I glance around desperately for an Avox, or really anyone who could bring me pain medication as her grating voice makes my throbbing head even more painful. Other than Caius, who was still snoring, I can only see Tamora and Quint. Both are grimacing as if Vibia's voice causes them physical pain as well.
"Here are this year's tributes!" she continues, shoving the little girl and the boy forward. The girl who certainly is not twelve has stopped sniffling, but her eyes are red and wide with fright. She flinches as Vibia tries to wrap an arm around her and scoots away. Vibia acts as if she doesn't notice. "These are Layna and Nestor!"
The room is quiet for a beat. Then Quint clears his throat and approaches the children. "I'm Quint, I'll be one of your mentors," he says, offering his hand. Nestor takes it immediately, but Layna hesitates. She does eventually shake Quint's hand though. Tamora then walks slowly forward, not wishing to scare the girl more, and murmurs in a soothing voice, "I'm Tamora. It's nice to meet both of you." She then also shakes their hands. They all then glance at me expectantly.
Oh. I was supposed to greet them as well. I set my mug on the coffee table, stand rather unsteadily, and cross to them.
"Hello," I say softly, extending my hand to Layna as I stare into her bright blue eyes. She has wispy brown hair and a pale face. I study Layna's face for a while, perhaps a second or an hour before Quint clears his throat again. I realize I haven't dropped her hand. I do so, then turn to Nestor. He extends his hand for me, and I take it. His eyes are a light brown.
"This is Delia," Tamora introduces me. I had forgotten to say my name. Something about Nestor's eyes had distracted me. Eyes always distract me. Quint gently grasps my upper arms and pulls me away from Nestor. I realize that Vibia had been saying something. Probably about me. They're always talking about me. I stand awkwardly just in front of Quint as Vibia finishes speaking and escorts the tributes to their rooms. Quint guides me back to the couch and I sit down.
"Thanks," I mumble. Quint ignores me and turns to Tamora.
"Well?" he asks her. Tamora is our oldest competent mentor, as Demetrius is always lost in the morphling and Caius is nearly always asleep. She shakes her head and looks down, her curly brown hair bouncing around her face.
"Bloodbaths," she replies, frowning at Quint. Her eyes, a shade of brown just darker than Nestor's, are troubled.
"Nestor doesn't seem so bad," Quint tries to reason. Tamora shakes her head again.
"Doesn't matter. He'll still be marked as an easy target and taken down at the Cornucopia."
"Perhaps Layna's pretending to be weak?"
"No one could fake that kind of terror."
I lose track of their conversation, surprised at myself for paying attention that long. I sip some coffee from my cup, by now it has cooled to a temperature suitable for sipping. After some time, again I can't be sure how long, their conversation escalates to bickering and it breaks into my calm reprieve.
"Why are you so negative?" Quint shouts at Tamora.
"I'm being realistic! You always think that our tributes have a chance and give them false hope!"
"You told me I had a chance in my games!"
"Because you did! Besides, we all know death is better than winning!"
The room is silent after this, even Caius' snores have stopped. Such an anti-capitol statement is forbidden, and Tamora knows it.
She giggles half-heartedly. "You know, having to put up with you dunces," she says, gently poking Quint's shoulder with her fist. He fakes a laugh too, for her sake.
"What do you say we get to know them separately tomorrow, so Layna's not too scared? They can each spend an hour with us and an hour with Delia and Demetrius," Tamora says, changing the subject artfully.
"Are you sure?" Quint asks, frowning. He doesn't need to say what he really means, that he doesn't trust Demetrius and me with a tribute for a whole hour.
Tamora shoots him a warning look, then glances at me to see if I'm listening. "Of course, Demetrius and Delia work well together." She then steps closer to Quint and whispers something in his ear. He nods.
I take another sip of my coffee as Vibia bounces back into the room.
"The tributes will join us for dinner in half an hour!" she screeches in her characteristically jarring voice. I finish my coffee and place the mug carefully on the coffee table. I stand and walk out of the room as Vibia continues to prattle about something surely irrelevant. I walk to my room on the train and lay down on my bed, scrunching up my eyes as I wait for the pain in my head to subside. Thankfully, the caffeine I've consumed keeps me from falling asleep right away. I ignore Vibia when she asks me to come to diner, and imagine that Demetrius does the same. I fight sleep as long as I am able to, but eventually I must succumb to the nightmares.
Author's Note: I honestly have no clue where this story is going. Delia just came to me and I had to write her out. But hey, sometimes that's the most fun kind of story. I know there will be at the very least two more chapters, but I also have no clue when I'll have time to update. For anyone who is wondering, this is the 30th Hunger Games and Delia is from District Six.
This is my first Hunger Games fanfic, so feel free to give me constuctive criticism, or really any kind of review. It's the only way I'll get better. Thanks!