Hey everybody! Sorry i didn't add an author's note the first time, my computer was being screwy so blame the laptop. Well, i hope you guys enjoy Chapter Two! Pleeeeeease read & review. All, including criticism, will be appreciated.
xoxo
Cinderella2.0
"Come on, Mirabelle, today is a big big big day! We arrive at the Capitol! Doesn't that sound fun?"
Could the woman just shut up? I groaned at the sound of Effie's voice and pulled the silk covers over my head, trying desperately to block out the noise so I could get at least five more minutes of sleep.
"Now, don't be so stubborn. All of the citizens are so eager to see you and Flint! You wouldn't want to let them down, would you?"
Just shut up. She was really giving me a headache by that point, and I was about to tell her something using VERY colorful language when Flint interrupted, saying, "Here, Effie, let me try. She isn't a morning person, even on her best days. Besides, I think Haymitch needs help opening one of his, um, many wine bottles."
I smiled under my sheets at his comment and heard Effie huff as she left the room, obviously not happy that she had to deal with Haymitch on her own, especially after yesterday's ordeal. A small part of me felt bad for her but it was overcome by the extreme thankfulness that she wasn't nagging me to get up anymore. But then again, Flint was the one who actually knew the tactics that worked in that department.
"Up, buttercup. You know you're going to have to sooner or later so why not just get it over with." I let my covers fall back from my face and saw him standing with his arms crossed, staring in my direction, his eyes narrowed even though he couldn't see me. He cocked one eyebrow when he heard my movement, and it never ceased to surprise me that he always supplied the perfect reaction to whatever I was doing. That raised line of hair said you-better-get-your-butt-out-of-bed-right-now and knowing that Flint was going to be a lot more persistent than Effie, I groaned once more and threw the violet bedspread aside.
"That's my girl." He said with a grin as he picked up the sound of my footsteps coming nearer to him. I rolled my eyes and mumbled, "Uh-huh."
He laughed and tugged at the blue ribbon that he'd used to secure the end of my braid on the day of the reaping, gently maneuvering his fingers to unweave the golden brown strands as he'd done thousands of times before. Guessing there must be a brush around somewhere, he slowly made his way to the bureau and ran his hand along the surface, his forehead creased in frustrated determination. I hated to see him struggle, so I took his hand and guided it to the brush, a frown pulling on his lips.
"I could've found it." He muttered but I knew he wasn't angry with me. Flint never wanted anyone's pity of his disability because he was constantly trying to be normal like everyone else. He was constantly angry with himself, also, because he knew that he wouldn't ever have the chance to be normal. Once when I was about eleven, I came home from school to find him throwing things about, yelling about how it wasn't fair and crying his eyes out. Besides my parents' death, it was one of the scariest moments of my life, seeing the person who took care of me when I was broken break down himself. I'd been extra careful not to approach the topic of his blindness ever since that day, so I wouldn't have to watch him have another meltdown.
"I know." I whispered as he dragged the bristles through the tangled waves created by the braid I'd slept in. Soon my hair was soft and shiny, hanging down about an inch past my shoulders, and Flint kissed the top of my head, saying, "Now, pick something pretty to wear and I'll see you at breakfast, okay, sweetie?"
"Okay." With that he left the room, and I sighed, walking over to a mahogany (haha :D) double-doored wardrobe that towered over me. I tossed open the doors and was blown away by the various choices of clothing. Back home I only had three outfits; one for school, one for hunting, and one for reaping day. So seeing all of the fancy garments hanging in front of me had me reeling. Finally, I chose a soft pink blouse with short sleeves that ruffled at the end, white cropped pants that clung to my legs, and white flats resembling ballet shoes. For a last minute touch, I tied a white ribbon around my head like a headband, securing the ends in a bow.
"Well, this is about as good as I'll get for the moment," I murmured to myself and straightened the bow once more as I made my way from the room. Voices were already sounding from the main room and I followed them until I saw Effie, Haymitch and Flint at the table, Effie's face red under the slight pink coloring of her skin and Haymitch smirking at her, a glass of liquor in his hand.
"Think about the children! How can you let yourself be hung-over twenty-four hours a day, when their lives are at stake?" Effie was shrieking, fed up with our mentor's antics and her wig was slightly off-center from her distress. Haymitch just sipped his drink and said, "Why, so I can be sober when they get killed off just like the rest of them?"
That caused Effie to shut up, not having a rebuttal to his brutally true statement. Everyone was silent for a few minutes as we let his comment float around in our heads. Yeah, I knew that it was nearly impossible that either one of us would get out alive, but hearing it come from someone's mouth made the thought sting. I broke the silence by coming over to the table and saying, "Good morning."
"Good morning as well! How did you sleep?" Effie tried to slip back into her chipper attitude as soon as she saw me, not knowing that I had seen the conversation, and gave me a cheerful smile as an Avox came around to my seat with a plate of eggs, what looked like bacon, sausage, toast smothered with butter and jam, fried potatoes, and a medley of fruit. I stared in awe of it and turned to the Avox boy, a 'thank you' spilling from my lips. He nodded and went back to stand in his place along the wall, by two other servants.
I went for the toast first, letting the sweet flavors of the jam and butter grace my taste buds as I chewed. Flint had decided to go for the fried potatoes and was shoveling a forkful into his mouth as I glanced over at him. Haymitch was apparently substituting alcohol in place of the food for his breakfast, and Effie was daintily cutting her scrambled eggs into even smaller pieces before placing them on her tongue. It was strange, having such different people sit down and eat together like it was a normal thing to do. Effie and Haymitch probably had the resources to eat like this everyday, whereas Flint and I had to struggle to say fed. It just felt so out of place, us all being at the same table.
"So, give me something to work with. What can that you two do that's remotely impressive?" I glanced up from my plate to see Haymitch looking in mine and Flint's direction expectantly. Swallowing my mouthful of bread, I tried to figure out how to break the news, not just to Haymitch and Effie, but to Flint too. He had no idea what I could do with a knife and I doubt he'd be happy if he found out that I could slay a rabbit with a flick of my wrist. So I stayed quiet, biting my lip as I snuck a look at Flint, who had moved on to sampling the different kinds of fruit on his plate.
"Fine with me. If you don't want to co-operate, I can just let you di-" Haymitch began to stay, but at the thought of dying I blurted out, "Flint has impeccable hearing. He can hear things seconds before they come with a five-foot-range of him."
As soon as I spoke, Flint stopped eating and turned his head towards the sound of my voice, his eyes widening in surprise. "I didn't know you paid attention that closely.
"I've lived with you for almost ten years of my life. How could I not notice?" Twisting my fingers together in my lap, I didn't even bother to glance upwards when Haymitch asked, "What can you do, sweetheart?" He said the name mockingly and it made anger bubble up inside me. He didn't really care about what happened to us. He just wanted to see what we were capable of so he could rate how fast we would die. The sound of Cato and Finnick's voices yesterday rung in my ears, the word they'd said repeating over and over again. Bloodbath, bloodbath, bloodbath…
Just to hopefully swipe the drunken smile of disapproval off his face, I looked him in the eye and steadily stated, "I'm good with a knife. I can kill a rabbit from thirty feet away in two seconds flat, and I've even caught a deer once. I may not have been trained at an academy my whole life, but if you think that I'm inexperienced, you just wait until you see me in the arena because I'll give you one hell of a show."
Silence. Complete silence. Effie was staring at me in disbelief and Haymitch looked impressed with my words, making me glad that I'd spoken up. But then that gladness quickly few away when I heard Flint's low angry voice growl, "What?"
Sighing, I turned to him and saw that a scowl was slashing through his handsome face, disfiguring his features. Yep, he was furious as I knew he would be when he found out, but still, the look on his face scared the crap out of me. In an effort to try and explain, I began, "I-I know you shouldn't have found out this way, but-"
"Yeah, you're sure as hell right about how I shouldn't have found out this way! I told you to absolutely not go into those woods, Mirabelle! You could've been hurt, or worse, caught and whipped in front of the whole district, with me forced to listen! Forced to hear the one person I love being beaten to death like…like…" He ran a hand agitatedly through his thick hair and I could tell he was thinking of how his mother had died. She'd been caught stealing a loaf of stale bread from the baker's trash and the baker's horrible wife wouldn't have it. She had called the Peacekeepers and Flint's mom had been tied to a pole, whips cracking incessantly for over an hour. By the time the Peacekeepers had carried out her sentence, his mom was dead, having bled out from the wounds in her back that had dug so deep you could see her bones. Flint was taken to the orphanage shortly after the incident, a few years before I showed up there.
A tear slid down his cheek, and I pressed my small hand to his cheek, trying to console him as another plopped onto my hand. I knew he didn't want to start crying in front of Effie and Haymitch, so I started to whisper soothingly, "It's okay, Flint. They never hurt me, I'm fine. Please don't cry. I'm okay."
"I can't bear that happening to you, Miri. If…if I heard you screaming like how she was…I swear I would just lose it. I-I can't lose you in that way." He let out a rueful laugh, "And even in these stupid Games, I can't fully protect you because I wouldn't be able to see the person coming to cut off your head. I would have to just listen while you cried out in pain and then go insane from the sound. Or maybe, I'll die first and save you from having me as a liability…"
"No, don't say that. Please." I pleaded and wrapped my arms tightly around him, pressing my face into the crook of his neck as he began to sob, the noises breaking my heart. This was the only day I'd ever seen him cry, besides the one before mentioned. He usually held in all of his emotions, so it was just as scary seeing him break down this time, as it was the last.
I kept hugging him until he pulled away, wiping his face free of tears, and he said with a chuckle, "God, I feel like such a girl."
I just shook my head and laughed softly, thinking it was funny how fast he could go from being sad to cracking jokes like nothing had occurred. Effie and Haymitch obviously didn't know what to say, so we all went back to eating noiselessly, drifting back into a world of our own thoughts. In fact nobody spoke for the rest of breakfast, until Effie brightened, chirping, "Oh, look, we're here! Doesn't the Capitol just look so magnificent? Go on, have a look!" She shooed us away from the table and towards the windows of the train, which I hadn't looked out of since we'd stepped on board, and what I saw had my jaw on the floor.
Now, I hate the Capitol for a lot of reasons, but even the most resentful person against it couldn't have disagreed that it was absolutely beautiful. It was if they'd painted all of the buildings gold and then positioned the sun to shine so perfectly on them that it seemed like they were glowing. Capitol citizens who seemed to small they resembled ants were going about their own business, all of them wearing ridiculous outfits in equally ridiculous colors. I was about to ask Flint what he thought of everything, when then the obvious smacked me in the face.
Grasping his hand tightly, I glanced up at his face, noticing how his lips frowned slightly and how his jaw was set on edge. I leaned my head against his sturdy arm, and asked, "Are you okay?"
I felt him nod and then he murmured in a broken tone, "I don't really want to see it anyway." Even though I new it was a straight out lie, I didn't contradict him, just stared out at the city in silence as it passed us by at an incredible speed. In fact we stood there in that spot until we pulled into the station, paparazzi shouting and taking pictures efficiently while Capitol citizen cheered for us. The sight was a bit overwhelming and a little scary when you took it in all at once so I decided it was best for me to keep a hold on Flint's arm as we walked through the crowd, knowing he would make sure that I wouldn't be hounded by any of the cameramen or, god forbid, the ravaging fans.
"Showtime, kiddies," Haymitch said dryly, seeming to be sober for the moment as he pushed open the car door, stepping out to greet the city. As Flint and I exited, I was deafened by the roars of admiration (at least I hoped it was admiration), and managed to smile shyly at the first few photographers who shouted my name, gripping Flint's arm tighter as we walked farther down the aisle. Flint, however, only nodded stiffly to the paparazzi, not answering any questions thrown at him. Effie followed after us and seemed to enjoy all of the attention, posing a few times for the cameras.
It felt like forever until we reached the training center, it's many stories towering above our heads as we entered. Flint and I were whisked down a hallway, Effie and Haymitch parting from us, and then were taken to separate rooms to be prepped for the opening ceremonies. I was given a robe and told to undress, but I decided to keep my mother's locket on, not wanting them to take it away from me. Everything in the room was chrome, every surface glinting and showing off my small frame like mirrors.
"Oh, look what a beauty we have to work with this year!" I jumped at the sound of a Capitol accent and whipped around to see three colorful people grinning at me, one with green skin, one with short red curls, and one who insisted on wearing pink as the only color on her outfit. The one with green skin came over to me and picked up my hand, shrieking when she saw my fingers, "But look at these nails, Flavius! We have some serious work to do!"
And some serious work they did. They managed to rip every single hair from my body, which made me feel like my skin was burning, and had gotten my nails under control. They'd even given my locks a trim, creating a clean canvas for my stylist to work with. Hopefully, whoever he was, he wouldn't give up on me just yet.
The prep team left after they decided that I was finished, and I sat on the silvery table, waiting for my stylist to come and work some magic, earning me at least some sponsors. My fingers curled around the locket in agitation, wondering if the guy was going to put me in a coal miner's outfit, giving up after what happened the year before, when he'd made our district's tributes appear like they were on fire. Everyone had thought that they'd made a big enough impression to make it into at least the third day, but sadly, we were wrong.
Suddenly, I felt another presence in the room and looked up to see an average sized man whose only flashy color was a thin strip of gold lining his eyes. Cinna. I'd seen him on TV last year but I never thought I'd actually meet the genius in person. He stood in all black, coming closer to me as I stood from the table, his fairly soft hand lifting my chin so he could get a better look at my face. I was worried about what he thought of me, if he thought I was worthy enough to wear his magnificent clothes, if I was worthy enough for him to waste his time making me beautiful.
Finally, he let his hand drop from my chin and just stared at me, an interested expression on his face. I found it surprising, that he thought I was interesting and fidgeted with my hands as he let his thought process work itself out.
"I find you intriguing, Mirabelle Reed."
His comment shocked me, and I glanced up at him with wide eyes, as if I wasn't sure if he was talking about the District 12 tribute I was. Nobody ever found anyone from district twelve intriguing, or even remotely worth knowing about. I didn't know how to respond so I just stood in awe of what he'd said.
"There's something about you that holds a dark tragic air, but I also see great strength. Strength, wits, and determination." He cocked his head to one side and asked, "That boy, is he your brother?"
I swallowed before answering in a timid voice, "No, but he's as close to me as one."
Cinna nodded and then placed his hands on my shoulders, probably preparing to give me some bad news about my costume. It was going to be the coal miner's get-up and I closed my eyes for a moment, sighing and picturing how embarrassing that would be. Flint and I would be eaten alive even before we entered the arena. Bu what came out of his mouth was the last thing I expected.
"I can see that you've had a dark and terrible past, that something in your life has caused you great pain for being such a young girl, and I want to show that off. I want to show off that you were strong enough to overcome something that I think few people would be able to. I want the audience to see how you're something more than just a little girl from District 12 who they think doesn't stand a chance."
He paused then added, "I'm going to transform you into their worst nightmare. Everyone is going to realize that they can't push you around just because you're small and not as prepared. They're going to see the dark, tortured side of District 12 this year, and they're never going to forget it."
I tentatively asked him, "You're not going to set me on fire, are you?"
Cinna smiled and shook his head, saying, "No, I going to turn into something much more powerful. You're going to be the ashes, the ever-present reminder of destruction that takes years to fully get rid of. It's always the thing that lingers after the fire has taken it's toll, that blankets everything until it becomes a suffocating cocoon that tells us nothing will ever be the same. You, Mirabelle, are going to be their reminder that District 12 is not to be forgotten."
An hour later, I couldn't even recognize myself. Cinna was really a genius. My hair had been styled in voluminous, tangled-together curls, giving me a slightly feral appearance, and it had been sprinkled with coal dust. My eyelids and lips had been coated in black and the effects made my gray eyes look piercing, but the most magnificent thing was the dress he'd designed. Crafted out of black silk, it hung in tattered tiers down the floor and was corseted around my waist, the material hanging loosely over what chest I had and, I guess to remind the Capitol that they were sending children into the games to be murdered, cap-sleeves rounded off my shoulders. Coal ashes had been smeared along my arms, neck, and face, and all in all, I looked rather terrifying. Like a child's doll that somebody threw in the fire and had come back for revenge.
"Cinna," I breathed, "It's perfect."
He smiled at me and linked his arm through mine, "Now, let's reunite you with your partner and give the other tributes a run for their money."
We strolled from the room and down several hallways before we reached the area where the chariots were to be loaded, and there we saw Portia, Cinna's counterpart, putting last minute touches on Flint's ensemble, who standing stiffly as he listened to the sounds of the Capitol citizens cheering to see their new tributes. Even though it was nearly impossible to pick up any sounds over the roaring, Flint still turned towards me as Cinna and I walked nearer to him, giving me a reassuring smile. What can I say, his hearing is literally the eighth wonder of the world.
I gave him a quick once-over, and raised my eyebrows in appreciation at Portia's handiwork. He wore a tight black dress-shirt, with a fitted silk vest over-top, and she'd finished off the look with black dress-pants. Ashes had been smeared on his face, neck, and the uncovered part of his arms, also, and he looked in everyway like a miner who'd come back from the dead. In a good way, mind you.
"Don't you look handsome?" I said, and watched his smile grow bigger as he grabbed my hand, twirling me around and listening to the sound of my dress rustling as I spun.
"You look beautiful, Miri." He said and I didn't even bring up the fact that he couldn't even see my outfit, not wanting to ruin the moment. Cinna motioned us over to our chariot and the first thing that I noticed about it was that it was midnight black, instead of gold like all of the others. Giving him a curious look, I patiently waited for him to explain the abnormality as Portia went to fiddle with something near the entrance that all of the chariots would pass through before facing the masses.
"When you both are in the chariot, there are going to be a few things happening that might surprise you, but I need you to just pretend like you knew about them the whole time, okay?" He told us as he helped Flint and me into the spectacle, getting us situated so that we would fall off during the show.
"What kinds of things?" Flint asked cautiously, and Cinna glanced between us both, saying the answer Flint and I didn't want to hear. "It's best that you don't know at the moment."
Soon, District 11's chariot in front of us was moving, the tributes wearing outfits crafted from wheat to represent agriculture, and Cinna squeezed my hand, whispering, "Good luck."
And we were off, our chariot rushing faster and faster towards the entrance, my hand gripping Flint's for dear life. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Portia position her self to pull a cord hanging to a canister on the wall, an assistant opposite from her in the same stance. It was too late to panic because before I knew it, we were making our way towards the crowd.
For a moment all I saw was a flash of orange and yellow, and then we broke through the substance, the audience going wild once they saw us. Literally, they went berserk at our entrance and the noise level went from a nine to about a thirty. I felt like Cinna wouldn't want me to smile in this ensemble, so I kept a fierce expression plastered to my features as we rode along, staring at the crowds with a hardness in my eye. They seemed to love that even more and I swear my ear drums probably popped from their screams.
I practically could feel the other tributes glaring at us as we slid to a stop in front of President Snow, who gave his usual speech about the Games and then sent us on our way, the chariots moving back around to the exit. As we left, the crowd's cheers echoed in my ear for a few seconds before fading away into a soft ringing. Cinna came over and gave me a hug, saying something about how fantastic we were and then Haymitch was telling me that he was glad that Flint and I had given him something to work with. I was being tossed compliment after compliment and soon I was becoming dizzy from it all, stepping away from to clear my head for a few seconds, but as I turned to walk, I bumped into someone's chest.
The situation felt eerily familiar so I wasn't that surprised when I saw Cato smirking down at me, grabbing hold of my writs to keep me from toppling over in the sky high heels Cinna had given me with the dress.
"Quite an impression you made out there, angel." He said and brushed a wayward curl out of my face, his fingers leaving a burning sensation as they dragged across my cheek. "But I still have to say that you were more radiant that say on the train. I like the more innocent side of you. The vulnerable side."
He let go of my left wrist but held onto my right, slipping down to cradle my hand with his, kissing the skin briefly before adding, "See ya around, angel."
Then he disappeared into the mass of tributes and their entourages. The feeling of his fingers on my skin still hadn't left and I could feel a blush creeping onto my cheeks. What was it about this guy that had me so head over heels?
I was going to find out what it was. I was going to solve the puzzle that was Cato Kingsley. Mark. My. Words.
Ooo, Cato has set his sights on one of our tributes! Well, if you have any suggestions, please review and tell me! See ya! Stay tuned for chapter 3!
Also, my sister has a fanfiction on here and she wrote a crossover fan-fiction between me and Cato (not using my real name)and u guys should check it out! It's called Puhleez and it's really funny. :)