AN: This is my first published FF so please tell me what I can do to improve. I would love any feedback that you could provide. Thanks so much for the reviews so far and for reading!
NOTE: I do not own any of these characters or claim to. All that credit goes to the brilliant Suzanne Collins. Also, I know a lot of the content of this one is going to sound repetitive since it's scenes from THG but I sort of had to include them. More original content will be in the next chapter.
Enjoy!
As I round the corner, I can see shadows through the small, square window that is on the door. Nearing it, I see that it is Katniss Everdeen and Gale Hawthorne. Before they turn and see me, I take that moment to sigh. Not because I don't like them. On the contrary, Katniss is probably my best friend. She doesn't hang out with the other Seam girls in our year of school and since I don't really pair up with anyone either, I usually find myself in a group with Katniss, which I've come to really enjoy over the years.
In reality I sigh because of Gale. I don't have anything against him but I know him well enough to know that he'll make some smart remark about my dress or my hair as a dig at The Capitol. If only he knew that my father had never even been to The Capitol and that I'd never left the fences of District 12 in my life. Well, I've braced myself for it so I shouldn't really keep them waiting. I open the door and Katniss gives me a half-smile. Gale keeps his usual straight face, giving me an up and down look.
"Pretty dress," he says with a slight smile. For just a moment I can't tell if he's making fun of me, like I expected, or if he actually likes the dress. I decide that I might as well play the Devil's advocate. I press my lips together and then smile, smoothing the skirt of the dress with my hands.
"Well, of I end up going to The Capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?" The look on his face says everything I hope for. He is genuinely confused but Katniss seems to think that it is amusing.
Trying to save himself Gale pipes up, "You won't be going to The Capitol. What can you have? Five entries? I had six when I was just twelve years old." Ouch. That one hurt. It's not my fault that I was born into a family is merchant class.
"That's not her fault," Katniss sort of hisses at Gale, coming to my defense.
"No, it's no one's fault. Just the way it is," he replies, turning away. They both must be able to tell that I'm hurt. That I do truly feel sorry for them and the way that they have so little control over their lives.
I turn and grab the few bills off the counter to buy the strawberries they came to sell to my father. Putting them into her hand I make sure and tell her, "Good luck, Katniss."
She gives me another smile and there is an apology in her eyes. Not just for Gale and his words but also because she feels the same way as he does. I close the door as a single tear falls down my cheek. It's an unexpected tear. I'm hoping it wasn't noticed by either of them, especially by Gale. He already thinks I'm some privileged, weak little thing that could never survive in the Seam. He may be right but I don't want him to have more proof.
As I put the strawberries in the fridge, my mind begins to dwell too long on The Capitol and the Reaping system. On the hand that my father plays in it and all the tributes from this district that have died horrible, brutal deaths at the hands of other innocent kids. I think that the saddest thing about the Games is how easy it is to forget if you're not personally involved. If you and your family are not in the Games, you can almost forget about it when it isn't happening. On the flip side, if a family member died in them, you can not forget. You can't forget the Reaping, you can't forget their time in The Capitol, and you certainly don't forget the way that they died. Even worse is if you lived through them. If you have those memories haunting you so strongly in your day-to-day life that you can't function, you never actually leave the Games. You stay in them, a child at the mercy of The Capitol, for the rest of your life. With these thoughts speeding through my brain like a runaway train I haven't even noticed that suddenly I am in my room, sobbing. How did this time pass without me realizing it? It scares and shocks me for a moment but then I remember what happened and I'm alright. I take a few deep, even breaths and try to settle myself down.
"Pull it together Madge. Pull. It. Together," I whisper to myself as I begin to take control, hoping no one is listening to me talk to myself.
As I've evened out, there's a knock on my bedroom door. Slowly pushing it open is my father who is in his finest suit, one he ordered from The Capitol and that he saves for the Reaping only. "I'm heading down to the town square. You should finish getting ready and meet me down there in a few minutes," he instructs me.
"Alright, I will," I tell him, noting how sad he looks. Knowing my father, though, I also know that he will put on a smile so that The Capitol can't see it. Maybe, though, I can only see it because I'm good at reading people. At least that's what I'm told. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only person who can read another's eyes and tell them how they feel and why they feel that way. It certainly comes in handy at times.
Moving across the room to put a bit of makeup on, I start thinking about my dreams. Instead of the standard scary dream, it's my worst fear that pops into my head. In this nightmare, I am still not the one who is Reaped. Instead, it is someone I care about deeply. Usually this takes form in Katniss being chosen, as she is one of my only real friends. She is Reaped and must go into the Games. I watch as she fights for her life and, despite some valiant efforts, she doesn't come home breathing. While it seems very much like my first dream, this one gets worse once the Games are over. Once they end and the body of my friend is delivered, broken, back to her family, everything falls apart. Her mother returns to the dark place so similar to that of my own. Prim and Gale don't know what to do without Katniss and, frankly, neither do I. As a result, my worst nightmare takes place. I become my mother. Filled with guilt, with sorrow, and with regrets and confined to a dark room where I can sit in safety. By far, this is the dream that scares me the most. My own death would not be as awful but the death of one of the few people I truly care about is the worst.
Shaking my head, I look over at the clock. Somehow, twenty minutes have passed. I hurry up and get the rest of the way ready for the Reaping and head over to the town square. Checking myself in with a blood test and a signature, I locate my group and find myself looking for Katniss. I spot her across the crowd, talking to Prim. That poor thing, it's her first Reaping and she's terrified. With only one slip, the chances of her getting chosen are so slim that even I have more of a chance of being Reaped than she does. I turn and see that one of the camera's is following my face as I turn and smile towards my father. I can just imagine the commentary in The Capitol and I want to make my father look good. There lies the another drawback of being the mayor's daughter. I'm not complaining or anything, I know that I am much better off than most of the people in my district. Still, knowing that my father is the face of our district and that I am representing him can get a little old. On top of that, being ignored by people because they think you're stuck up is always super fun. When it comes down to it, though, I do what nearly every citizen of all the district does, I grin and bear it. The Hunger Games allow us to see what The Capitol is capable of and instills fear and obedience, which is exactly what President Snow wants.
I look around again as the square becomes mostly filled up. I'm positioned in the middle of the crowd, being 16, and it's easy to get lost in it. You kind of just stand and try not to think too hard about what's happening. Then, it's over and you mourn because two more children are going to The Capitol but you also rejoice because it wasn't you. I see in the corner the men betting on the odds of who will be Reaped. How disgusting. To me, these men are just as despicable as The Capitol citizens who watch the Games with glee.
I'm snapped out of my thoughts by the monstrous, booming clock that is in the Justice Building, which tells us that it's two o'clock. Looking up on the stage I see my father sitting next to Effie Trinket, the escort for our district. If she weren't so covered in terrifying makeup, a bright pink wig, and garish clothing, she might actually be pretty. You can never tell underneath that Capitol look, though. The third seat, which is reserved for our only living victor, Haymitch Abernathy, is vacant, which is not surprising. He'll probably stumble in, drunk, as he usually does.
My father begins reading the history of Panem and reminds everyone of the rules of the Hunger Games, like we could ever forget. On the large screen that is set up in the corner, a video plays along with the words, making me think that this event couldn't be any more staged by The Capitol unless they tried. After reading the list of victors, which is exactly two, Haymitch decides he should make his entrance. Everyone claps despite his sweaty, unkempt appearance. He trips on his own feet and the stairs themselves while he attempts to climb up the stage. What a great show for those in The Capitol, I'm sure they're looking at out district with great respect right now.
The look on my father's face makes me embarrassed for him. He introduces Effie, who will pull the names of our tributes to try to draw attention away from Haymitch, but apparently Haymitch wants a little more attention. He tries to hug Effie but she refuses and he barely makes it to his chair, where he plops down and looks like he might pass out.
Smoothing out her suit and make sure her wig is in place, Effie walks up to the microphone. In those monstrous shoes of hers, though, it's more like a shuffle.
Smiling a fake-looking set of overly white teeth, she blurts out her signature, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" I wish she would just stop talking and get this over with because I'm starting to think too hard again. I'm thinking of my slips in that ball and all the other slips people have. My five slips, Katniss' twenty, Gale's forty-two. I just wish this would stop and no one else would have to die. But everyone knows that no revolution comes without a price.
"Ladies first!" Effie rings out in that peppy, shrill voice. She puts her hand in that giant fish bowl with thousands of slips of paper and moves her hand around a bit. With that costume on and her hand fishing for slip in the fishbowl, she kind of reminds me of a cat, looking for dinner where it doesn't belong.
She finally finds one that, I guess, feels right. As she walks back over to the microphone, I'm hoping it's not me, it's not someone I'm close to. Please, let it not be either of my nightmares.
"Primrose Everdeen!" she calls out, far too cheerily.
No. That can't possibly be right. My head spins a bit as I feel like my worst nightmare is about to begin.