Author's Note: Okay, third chapter up and ready! If you haven't already noticed, my writing consists a lot of self-reflection by the characters. So... uh... be prepared for long paragraphs...
Chapter Three
What did she mean by that?
I pick up the pieces of my crowd face and put it back together as best I can. Peacekeepers come to escort me to the fabled train that travels over two hundred miles an hour. As I walk down the hall to the departing dock, I know I'm not ready to face the cameras yet.
"What if it isn't?"
I pretend to trip and fall onto the ground. The Peacekeepers are at my side in an instant. Well, they were always at my side anyway. I wave off their concern and, with a cheery face, say that I'm really just in shock at being reaped and need a moment to soak it all in. Apparently this happens a lot, because they give me some space. Thankfully, Peacekeepers are very polite in District 2 because the Capitol favors us. But I can hear them whisper about feminine emotions and I have a sudden urge to drive a nice steak knife into their exposed backs.
But I use this brief time to think. Something tells me that Lune was actually trying to tell me something useful. But talking in riddles right now doesn't do me much good. Maybe… maybe she wasn't trying to tell me something useful at all. It would be understandable that Lune would want to have her brother home over anything else. So did she come just to mess with my head? To make me question the one sentence I've held onto my whole life?
She may be my best friend, but in the Hunger Games, that matters as much as dirt. Lune will do anything to have her brother home safe, and I don't blame her. But that doesn't mean I'm giving up. She's fighting for her brother, so I have to fight for myself twice as much. I lean against the wall and close my eyes. I use the thoughts of my knives cutting into the skin of the Peacekeepers taunting me to calm down. In the Games, I'll kill whoever I have to.
"What's the hold up?" I hear from the door.
"Miss Silver needed a minute," one of the Peacekeepers said, surprised by the force of the voice.
"Well, tell Sunshine to hurry the hell up!" The voice was loud and filled with authority for what sounded like an aged woman. It demands obedience and promises persecution to insubordination. Sadly, I know this voice well.
I hear heels clicking down the hall and I open my eyes. A pair of dark brown stare me down. She's dressed sensibly; in a long dark red skirt with a matching blazer. It's spotted with random, neon rhinestones just to satisfy those who may be watching in the Capitol. Her short cropped, dyed brown hair is fixed in ridiculous flowers that do not suit her stony expression. I stand up straight, my crowd face stitching itself in her presence. "Hello."
She fixes a strand of my hair behind my ear and gives my cheek a sharp pat. "Well, now, is that any way to greet your grandma, Sunshine? I haven't seen you in months and I don't even get a smile out of you?" She's saying this sarcastically, because she herself never smiles.
Without even waiting for a retort, she snatches my hand and struts down the hall. With her air of superiority, my grandmother sweeps passed the Peacekeepers with me in tow. I now have my head to wonder why she's the one seeing me off when she hadn't even bothered to meet with me in the visiting time. Did she want to be on camera? No, she's not that vain and wouldn't be damned to get dressed in color unless she had to. And then I understand; Reen Silver is my mentor.
How typical. This is another one of the Capitol's rouses for drama. How exciting and saddening it must be for a past victor to have to mentor her beloved granddaughter as she fights to the death in the arena. Of course, something like this has lost its originality years ago; in fact, my father had been rumored to have been purposely reaped three times in consecutive years in an attempt to build a spectacle. Or, as the Capitol would put it, a complete coincidence. However, because of the unofficial volunteering rule we have, there was always someone to take my father's place on the stage. I suppose I actually never had to take those tesserae to get reaped; the Capitol is trying again anyway.
But this just means I have more to prove. In my grandmother's eyes, I will never be worthy of the Silver name unless I prove myself. My father did that by training the victors that have come back from District 2. Now I have to be a victor myself.
I go to board the train with a radiant smile. It's no disbelief that Cato has the cameras following after his every breath, so I purposely trip and laugh at myself to bring the attention to where it should be; on me. The Peacekeepers are immediately at my side and the cameramen trip over themselves to get a shot of clumsy little me. Once on the train, I quickly go to the window and wave goodbye to my district and all the cameras that are there. It surprises me when I turn and see Reen doing the same thing.
"You have a good audience appearance, Sunshine," Reen says approvingly. I could say the same for her. I've never seen her look so approachable than just now, looking out at Panem. "Go wash up and get ready for dinner."
Without another word, my grandmother leaves me without showing me where my room is. Oh well. I like exploring. And then I hear a snickering from behind me. No surprise that it's the blonde airhead with that winning smirk of his.
"What do you want?" I sneer. I'm getting better at handling myself.
"Nothing, Sunshine." He snorts and runs his hand through his hair. Pitney looks me up and down, seizing me up like a piece of meat. I grit my teeth as he chuckles mockingly. "Looks like this'll be the quickest Games yet."
"You're right," I spit with sweet acid in my tone. "Because while you're busy flexing your muscles at the Capitol, you won't notice my knife until I choke you with your own intestines."
Cato walks towards me and I have a strange urge to take a step back. I would have, if my back weren't already against a window. He towers over me, his smirk twisting into a jeer. "Sunshine, you won't even get that far."
We scowl at each other for a moment, trying to see which one will show weakness first. But I know that if I'm late for dinner, Reen will give me hell. Angrily, I push Cato away from me and stomp down to wherever I expected my room to be. As I do, I hear that idiot cackling away in the room I left him.
They layout of the train wasn't that difficult to figure out. After a few minutes of stomping around, I find what should probably be my room. This is good because I couldn't be damned enough to ask someone where my room was. I slam my door with a satisfactory bang and lean against it. Suddenly I'm winded. The first exchange Cato and I have since the Reaping, and it's filled with death threats. But… I'm fine with that. It'll make things easier if I hate him. And I will hate him. I will learn to hate him.
Well, first, I better take things one step at a time. Not getting killed by Reen before I even make it into the arena. The room is roughly the same size as my room at home, but much more garish with District 2 pride; the crest on the curtains and bed sheets and paintings of the mountains mounted on the walls. This unsettled me somehow, despite the designers attempting to make the tributes feel "at home". But to me, this décor says "You're not fighting for yourself. You're fighting for your whole district."
I turn away from the paintings and the curtains and head to the bathroom. Step one; shower. Step two; get dressed in whatever is in my drawer. Step three; go to dinner and survive small talk with my grandmother. I suppose I'll get through it by imagining her death. The water was warm and it calmed my muscles, despite the scented soaps burning my sense of smell. Still, with my body warmed and my mind soaked in blood, I'm almost completely at ease.
The clothes in my dresser consist of girlish things that the designers feel I'll be deprived of once I enter the arena. Floral blouses, sun dresses, skirts that looked to be made entirely out of rhinestones. Luckily, that was only the first dresser. The Capitol like everything in excess, and therefore provided a second and even third dresser (plus a closet) to choose from. I manage to scavenge a plain yellow button up chemise (Sunshine) and navy slacks from the pink wreckage. I don't have time to do my hair, so I keep it down. Everything in here sickens me. I wonder if the Capitol will allow me to kill the suppliers of this train.
That's another thought I'll hold onto while enduring dinner. And by the looks of it, as I'm the last one to walk into the dining room and become the object of disapproving looks, I'll need it. I notice that, along with Reen, Brutus Lott will also be my mentor. He sits beside Pitney, who I can already tell is constructing stupid, condescending insults in his empty skull. He has even been so thoughtful as to make sure I sit directly across from him.
As I sit down and dinner is being set in front of us, Nare Kinton claps his hands with his half-circle smile. "Wonderful. Now, we're slightly behind schedule, but it's good to be fashionably late, am I right?"
"Of course," Pitney offers. Even though I'm looking down at my plate, I can see in my peripherals that he's smirking at me, silently mocking me. Ain't that right, Sunshine?
I grind my teeth for a moment and smile pleasantly at Nare. "You're right. It makes more of an impression that way." My smile turns icy as I look to Cato and my mind goes to the lovely bread knife at the end of the table.
Brutus lets out a hearty laugh and hits the table. "Do I sense some sort of rivalry here already?"
"They should be," Reen says smoothly as she takes a sip of her bright blue drink. "They've been training in the same academy since they could walk." She fixes me with her stare. "Both must be itching to get into the arena."
Whether it's her intimidating presence or her multiple implications, I find myself at loss for words for a moment. Thankfully, Pitney talks enough for the both of us. "Don't know about Sunshine here, but I've never wanted anything more than to get into the Games this year."
This catches me. I look at Cato and we make eye contact for a brief moment before he grins at Nare. But I know what he was thinking. And he knows that I remember the same thing. I eat whatever is in front of me while Nare and Pitney make conversation, Reen offering a comment every now and then.
Nare graciously turns on the television at the side of the room. We watch a short version of the Reapings that occurred around Panem. I pay attention to this, measuring up my competition. My soon-to-be-allies from District 4 seem weak and, therefore, expendable. None really bother me, except for the male in District 11. A volunteer from District 12, not bad. The replay ends and I decide now would be a good time to leave.
But before I can make my escape, Brutus talks. "Hmm… rivals," Brutus didn't seem to be paying attention since he spoke last. He stroked his whiskery chin and grinned toothily. "That could be a good angle for you two." When we all look at him in a confused silence, he continues on. "Hear me out, now. I'm just throwing ideas around. But an open rivalry will set the pace for the sponsors to take you on."
Reen picks this up right away. She nods in approval. "Usually, rivalry is among the same gender to be more evenly matched."
"And from different districts to get some pride going," Brutus' eyes spark with past bloodlust as he remembers killing his own rival in his Games. He killed the rest of the Careers in a mudslide he triggered and decapitated his rival's head for good measure.
"But because you two are different genders, the Capitol will be dying to know your stories," Reen carries on. "Females would be shamed not to sponsor Clove for 'girl power'."
"It'll be so dramatic! District 2 will be the center of attention!" Nare says excitedly.
Brutus takes a big bite from whatever meat was on his plate. "And from the looks of your competition, it'll probably be down to you two anyway. The final battle will be stuff legends are made out of!" He chews like a cow.
This is when I decide I should leave before I lose composure. I push myself from the table and excuse myself. This was getting a bit too much for one day. I've already made my resolve. To win, to hate him, to kill him if I have to. But there's still something, a small something, that's screaming that this is not how it's supposed to be. I have to settle myself somehow. And then Lune comes to mind. Her and her damn mind tricks. I start walking faster.
Cato said that he wanted nothing more than to get into the Hunger Games. Why did he say that? I want to talk to him, but I don't know how to start a conversation without having the urge to spit insults and threats.
I stop. Where was exactly was I walking to? Did I have any destination in mind? I look around and find myself in front of a bedroom door. But I'm pretty sure the direction of my room is the opposite way I walked. I hear footsteps behind me, but they're almost silent. It's probably one of the workers that are here to tend to me.
"Waiting for someone, Sunshine?"
Even worse. I turn and – speak of the devil – Pitney is smirking down at me, leaning against the wall as if he had been there the whole time. It's like he knew exactly how to get under my skin. "Let me guess. You realized how hot and wonderful I am, so you decided to come to my room so we could have a little fun before we have to kill each other."
This crude comment makes my face heat, but I won't let it phase me. I know it's now or never. "You want nothing more than to be in the Games?"
His smile might have been charming if it weren't so pompous. "Should I take that as a yes?"
"Why did you lie?"
"I didn't."
"Liar."
Cato rolls his eyes and starts walking to his door. "Kid, I don't know what you're talking about."
My fists clench and I say through gritted teeth "Of course you do. You never wanted to be part of this. You said so yourself."
He looks as if he's amused by my anger. "People change, Sunshine."
I run my hands roughly through my hair. My voice rises in a mixture of frustration, anger and sadness. "You're not getting it! You don't understand what you've done!" My fist makes contact with the wall, causing a nearby picture to crash onto the floor. The glass shatters. I can relate to it. "Just tell me why… Why did you volunteer?"
He looks at me, his smirk fading for a moment. For that moment, I feel like he's not sure why he did himself. Is that guilt I see or pain? And then that moment passed, his smirk reanimated and his eyes become guarded once again.
"What?" Cato says while smirking cruelly. "Are you gonna cry or something?" He barks out a laugh and ruffles my hair as he continues to walk past me. "Don't worry, kid. It's not like I volunteered for you or something."
The door shuts behind him and it's like the hallway temperature drops ten degrees. That one conversation was supposed to settle me. But it did just the opposite. More questions invade my mind. I look back at the door which Pitney disappeared behind, tempted to knock it down and interrogate him. But instead, I kick the broken glass on the ground and go to my room.
My mind is buzzing, even after I tear down the paintings of my district, rip off the crest-filled curtains, slash my blankets. I lie in my bed in the middle of the rubble and try to block out everything. I name off different knives silently and squeeze my eyes shut, commanding sleep to take me away. I don't know how or when, but I manage to fall asleep. And then, in my half-sleep stage, I realize what's worse than being awake – dreams.
The last thing I need are dreams that summon memories.
Author's Note: Okay, I'm so excited to write the next chapter! I'll give you a little spoiler - Most of it will be in italics. XD If you have any ideas I could use, want to tell me something you like or something I should focus on or even just some constructive criticism, feel free to tell me~ It makes me happy when I get reviews.
Anyway, thanks for reading!