A/N:Here's chapter three. Mentions of Primrose's past at the end that some people might find upsetting. Reviewers get cyber hugs!
Chapter Three-The fire, the sugar and the nightmares
I wince as the last wax strip is pulled off my legs. The sound of the rip is unbearable but I do my best not to protest. My pep team, Pokla, Catie, and Asiena have been working on me for three hours now and have removed every visible hair from my body, leaving my skin burning like fire. Nobody's stylist wants to see them until their tribute's flaws are all fixed. When they order me into a bath of thick blue liquid I think it can't get any worse but I couldn't be more wrong. I get at least three other baths in the thick stuff of various colors before Asiena produces a Lemon coloured pill from a pouch on her hip. "What's that?" I ask as Catie drapes a robe over my shoulders after the third bath. Asiena holds the pill up to the space between my eyes so that they cross over. "Have you had your period this month?" she asks. I frown. "Excuse me?" Where did that come from? I'd normally come out with something along the lines of 'Whaa?'
"Have you had your period this month?" she repeats.
"No," I say cautiously. "Why?"
"Take this," she presses the pill into my hand and gives me a glass of water. "It'll suspend your egg count and keep them glued into place until the end of the games."
From what I have seen of the shiny, rainbow coloured Capitol, I could tell they were more high tech and more furturistc than the rest of Panem. They have different remedies for everything. Those thick liquid baths were genteically inhanced to make skin clear of spots and blemishes, making my skin look unscaved and flawless. I could understand why they wanted this for the games but are they really going as far as suspending my period? That's bit far is it not?
I chuck the pill into my mouth anyway and take a giant gulp of water. I feel it slid down my throat and drop deep into my stomach. Polka then coats me in a cream that prevents my hairs from growing back too early. When they finally decide that I'm acceptable enough for my stylist they leave me alone in the room. I begin to fear that nobody is ever going to come back but as panic begins to set in the door clicks open and a man comes in. He has black hair and grey eyes that match mine. He has a length of measureing tape hanging round his neck and has a pair of glasses perched on his nose. "Hello, Primrose," he says, "I'm Daminen and I'll be your stylist for the games." I shake his held out hand and nod. "Pleased to meet you Daminen," I say. He takes a strand of my wet hair and rubs it between his fingers as if it was a piece of fabric, his face srunched up in deep thought. "Come with me," he finally says. I nod again and follow him into a room to the right. He sits on a green armchair and I sit across from him on a pink sofa. He presses a red button with a picture of a fork on it and a cheese platter appears on the coffee table that seperates us. I stare at this in disbelief. It appeared out of nowhere as if by magic. Back home, if my family or myself wanted some bread we had to make it from the wild yeast that grows in the forest. Even then it was flat and unappealing but you ate it anyway let alone making cheese appear out of nowhere. Daminen notices my disbelief and says, "We must seem so greedy to you." I shrug and say, "Don't worry about it."
"I'm sorry this has happened to you," Daminen says.
I think for a moment. "So your here to make me look pretty?" Daminen smiles. "A wise man once said, 'I'm not here to make you look pretty, I'm here to help you make an impression.'" he says.
"Who said that then?" I ask.
"My fashion mentor. He went by the name of Cinna," Daminen explains. I feel a pang deep inside me. Cinna. My mum's stylist. He risked his life to help the rebellion by making my mum's Quarter Quell interview dress turn into that of a bird. I can't remember which bird it was but it had a big impact on the Capitol and districts considering an uprising. This all resulted in his death in interogation as punishment. I want to burst into tears but I don't. I just ask, "So have you got an idea for my outfit?"
"I don't want to give to much away but I don't want to fall back into the usual coal miners clothes. I don't think Cinna would want that." Every tribute's outfit has to represent their district. In my case, coal mining.
I nod as I understand. After we share the cheese platter he begins to work on my hair. He plaits my hair the way it was as he had told me earlier that he quite liked it and ties it round into a bun. He doesn't overexaggerate my make-up to my relief. He asks me to close my eyes as he puts my outfit on. I feel the soft silk fabric brush my skin as I step into the trousers and hold my arms up for the shirt. I feel him put something on my head and pin something to the shirt. I ask if I can open my eyes and he says yes.
My outfit is breathtaking. The shirt's sleeves drape down to my knees and the ends are made of red, yellow and orange silk strips to represent flames. The rest of the shirt is black to indicate coal and my trousers match with the same red, yellow and orange silk at the bottom of the them. I have a headress on my head that is made up of red crystals the size of rocks so it looks like burning coal. Then my pin is stuck to shirt and helps the fire effect.
"Daminen, it's beautiful," I whisper. I see him smile in the mirror and he says, "You can follow in your mother's footsteps. Girl on fire mark two." I give a small laugh and give him a hug before I have to leave.
Effie escorts me to the bottom of the remake center where all the chariots sit. I can tell she's still upset about last night but I'm not in the mood to apologize. All the careers are chatting to each other but the other tributes are glued to their chariots and don't bother to try to speak to each other. I find my jet black chariot and carefully stroke the horse's mane. Something catches my eye as a horse attentdant lets me take a couple of sugar cubes to feed the horses with. It's the boy from district 10, Zeb. He's sitting on the floor of his district's chariot, dressed in what has to be the most ridiculous cow costume I've ever seen before in my life. I guess that's what comes with being from the livestock district. I feel bad for him. I mean, that guy's honour rule still applies of never hitting a girl, and yet this poor guy has to try to kill eleven? I mean how hard is that going to be? I pop a sugar cube into my mouth and go over to the chariot. I'm not the type who can make friends fast and half the time I don't even know how to begin a conversation with a complete stranger but the bitterness of this boy draws me towards him. I hate seeing people lonely or upset as it just reminds me of dad during some of his episodes, when he thinks there's no-one there for him and he's all by himself. "Nice outfit," I say, holding out my handful of sugar cubes to him. I'm beginning to remind myself of Maurice's dad. Annie always told us about Finnick's love of sugar and the rush it gave him. Zeb looks up at me and he looks completely confused at this kind gesture. He plucks a cube from my hand and pops it into his mouth and nods gratefully. "You OK?" I ask. His cheeks suck inwards as he sucks the cube and then puff back out again. "Not sure," he replys.
"This is difficult for all of us," I admit, "But it must be difficult x40 for you." I pause for a moment. "Was that little girl your sister?"
"Yes," Zeb replys sadly. "Her name's Carrie." I nod and say, "I just want to let you know that I respect you for taking her place like my mum did for her sister. I just hope to god it won't be you and me at the end because all I can see is Carrie's face as she was pulled away from you and I don't want to have to cause that for the rest of her life." I throw another sugar cube into my mouth and sigh in irritation. Zeb smiles. "Thank you," he says.
"No problem," I grin.
"You really think this costume is OK?" he asks as if he doesn't believe me.
"Oh yeah, it's lovely," I say sarcastically. By the look on his face I can tell he thinks I'm either mad or I have no sense of style. "You heard of sarcasm?" I ask.
"What?"
"Never mind."
I shake my head and go back to my carriage as the first ones begin to go outside. Daminen isn't there like the other stylists but I decide to just be above the others and ignore them as I know they want to see me die. As my chariot begins to move I feel the strips of coloured fabric at the ends of my sleeves begin to billow behind me in the wind. The crowd give the same reactions to every single district that they normally do and I'm no exception. I don't make the splash that my mum and dad made on their first chariot ride but I couldn't care less. I honestly couldn't. President Lynn makes a speech and then we're all taken into the training center. It's sickening how these people can cheer and clap for us and know that we're going to our death. I bet they're already betting odds on us all even though we haven't even got our training scores. I hop off my chariot and I'm met by Effie who leads me to the elevator which shoots up to the 12th floor. I catch a glimpse of the girl from district 7 as we go up. She's sitting with her arms folded across her chest as her stylist babbles on about something to her. How old would she be? 12, 13? Too young to be taking part in this. I wonder if she had anyone in her family to stand up for her but didn't? It's really a disgrace.
The apartment isn't much different to the train. Very fancy and posh. I feel if I touch something I'll make it dirty. I'm just about to go into my room when I hear Effie brustling around behind me and I'm suddenly awash with guilt. I guess it wasn't really her fault that they recorded my dad's fit. Actually there's no I guess about it. It wasn't her fault. I spin on my heel to face her again. "Effie I'm really sorry about yesterday, I didn't mean to get angry it's just-"
"I know Primrose, I know," she says, "Your father is a brilliant man and they had no call to record him. All of Panem knows the Captiol hijacked him anyway so I doubt they'll blame him for what happened. If anything, they'll blame the Capitol for it." I nod and go off to find my room. When I do I throw myself onto the silk covers of my bed and stare at the ceiling. I'm suddenly feeling very sick. I think I ate too many sugar cubes. When I'm called for dinner I tell them that I don't feel well and they can go on without me. I think Daminen stays in the apartment too with Haymitch and Effie. I end up falling asleep in my costume ontop of my bed.
I see my life pan out in my sleep as if it's a dream. Starting from the very beginning.
"I'm pregnant!" Mum says to dad almost nervously as she stares at the preganacy test.
"Your pregnant? We're having a baby?" Dad exclaims, picking mum up and whirling her round in circles.
"It's a baby girl?" Mum asks the nurse, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Yes, , it's a baby girl," the nurse confirms, handing her the small bundle wrapped up in a pink blanket.
"What will we call her?" Mum asks as she coos at the baby.
"Primrose," Dad answers almost immediately. "Primrose Mellark."
"Come on Primrose, it's not that hard, all you have to do it keep pedaling," Dad encourages as a pregnant mum holds a video camera up, ready to record my first bicycle ride without training wheels.
"Are you sure I won't fall?" I ask, sitting on the bike seat with my feet on the ground.
"If you do, I'll catch you," Dad smiles. I smile back at him and push forward. I panic as I wobble a bit but I keep going. "Dad! I'm doing it! I'm doing it Look mum I'm doing it!"
"We're proud of you honey!" Mum calls. I turn back to look at them and grin.
"What's his name dad?" I ask.
"His name, Primrose, is Gale," Dad replies. The baby in the incubator is so small and fragile it looks like a doll. "And he's your brother."
"My brother? Wasn't my brother supposed to arrive in august?" I ask. "It's only May."
"Yes, well, he came early. Isn't that lovely?" Dad's smile looks a bit put on.
"Oh, that's cool. He's perfect, I love him already," I grin.
"Gale, look, it's simple, all you have to do is keep peadling," I say.
"Primrose, I'm scared," Gale whines. "I'm gonna fall."
"No you won't and if you do, I'll be there to catch you," I encourage. Gale hesitates then pushes off on the bike. He keeps going and going like I did. "Look Primrose! I did it!"
"Proud of you Gale!" I call back to him. When he comes back to me he stops and grins. "Are you a fairy Primrose?" he asks.
"Why would I be a fairy?" I ask him.
"Because you just taught me how to ride a bike! I was told I was never going to be able to ride a bike due to my fragile limbs but you taught me! Your magic," he says.
"No Gale, I'm not magic, I'm just really smart," I grin.
"Nah, your a fairy," Gale decides. A red headed girl comes into view at the top of the street. "Look Keri! I can ride a bike!" Gale shouts, riding off in the red head's direction. "Primrose is a fairy! She used her magic to help me learn how to ride!"
"No Gale I'm not. . .oh never mind," I sigh.
I hurry along the school corridors, trying to find my physics class, when I turn I corner and bump into someone. I drop to the floor to collect my books and the person I bumped into does the same to collect there own books. I look up at them. It's a boy. He has bronze hair and sea green eyes. He's smiling at me.
"Hi, my name's Maurice," he says as we stand back up, holding out his hand for me to shake.
"Pleased to meet ya Maurice," I grin, shaking his hand. "I'm Primrose."
"Hey, Primrose," Maurice begins as we head off down the corridor. "Do you like hunting?. . ."
"Maurice," I whisper. "I don't think this is right." I'm in Maurice's room. It's dark. All I can see his Maurice's face smiling gently at me.
"Don't worry, just relax," Maurice says, kissing my neck.
"I mean, we're only fifteen!" I continue. "We're a bit young do you not think?"
"Your never to young when your in love. . ."
"Primrose, calm down," Mum says.
"I told you we were too young Maurice!" I scream. "I told you! I knew we were going to face the consquences for this!" I need to get my rage out. I love Maurice with all of my heart and I know he was right that if your in love then what we did wasn't wrong but I'm so hurt and afraid that I just need to scream at someone.
"Primrose, do as your mother says and calm down," Maurice says.
"How can I calm down? There's a human being inside me!" I screech.
"You could give it to the children's insitute," Mum suggests.
"No!" I clutch my admonen as if she's going to pull the baby out and take it away right there and then. "I don't want my child anywhere near that filthy place!"
"So you want to keep the baby?" Maurice asks me cautiously.
"Yes, I do. It may have been a mistake but I still love this baby with all of my heart and will do anything to protect it," I say.
"Me too," Maurice smiles.
"Dad, it's wonderful," I whisper. Dad has been working on the baby's room for a week now and I know his work wasn't in vain. He's painted the walls blue with white clouds and has painted in the sea with white topped waves and little boats bobbing along on top. I'm going with Maurice next week to get a cot and pram and all the baby furniture we need. I've even bought a little white bear with a green ribbon tied round it's neck. I want it to be it's first teddy bear. . .
I sit in the hospital, feeling completely desolate and numb. It can't be right. It just can't. We were supposed to be a family. Maurice, myself and the baby, who were told was going to be a boy. We would have named him after Maurice's dad, Finnick. Now we can't. We can't.
"I'm so sorry for your loss, ," the nurse says to me. "Your too far on in the pregnancy for the baby to dissaptate in your womb. You'll have to give birth to him."
I'll have to give birth to a dead baby? Isn't it enough that I had a miscarriage in the first place? Maurice encloses me in a hug and rests his chin on my head. "We're gonna get through this," he says as I begin to sob. "Together."
The pain was excruicating. Absoutely terrible. I thought I was going to die. The only comfort I had was Maurice holding my hand as we went. When I finally gave birth to him I was flooded with relief as the pain subsided but soon felt a stab in my heart as I saw how still he was. No crying. The silence was awful. I wanted a miracle to happen. For him to just start crying and the miscarriage was just a mistake made by the doctors. He looked beautiful. He was perfect. I thought of the room back home we made for him. Sky blue walls with clouds and boats bobbing along in the sea near the bottom. Painted by dad's hand. Now I'll never see my baby boy grow up.
I'm still in denial as we bury him. The coffin is so small, as if for a doll. My little baby Finnick, dead. No. It can't be. We're going to go home and find granny Everdeen cradling him in her arms and dad finishing off the paintjob in the room. Finnick isn't dead.
But then as I rest the white teddy bear on the coffin I realize. He is.
I'll never see him sleeping in the cot Maurice and I had chosen for him. Never see if he enjoyed sports or if he enjoyed reading. Never know if he would look like me or if he would like Maurice. Never see him grow up, get married, have kids himself. No. Never. I'll never see my little boy have a brilliant life. . .
A/N:Okay, no cliffhangar again but I thought that the revelation of a miscarriage and love of Maurice would be enough for now. Next chapter's the training center so I think there's a good cliffhangar to come ;) Please review!
