Chapter 5, Rainbow

62nd Hunger Games Arena, ?

Charlyn Thorn, District 3

"We love you Charlyn!" my stylists yell just loud enough for me to hear them within the glass elevator. Their tattooed arms are wrapped around each other's shoulders, their colorful bodies pressed together, waving and blowing kisses to me. Seeing them from above, they remind me of a bouncy, happy, living rainbow. Of course I could be dead wrong. I've only seen a rainbow once in my eighteen years as a resident of District 3. The day the smog-filled sky cleared just enough and the weather was just right, all of the District came out of their homes to stare straight into the heavens at the marvelous arched spectacle that had formed there.

That was the day Aidan proposed to me. The guy of my dreams proposing to me under my very first rainbow? Being closer to him than ever before later that night? Looking back now, it almost feels like a misty dream. Sometimes I wonder if Aidan or the rainbow or that night were even real in the first place. But a nice tough kick from the baby always reminds me that, yes, yes the horrible nightmare that followed is entirely true.

All too soon, my stylists disappear and I'm plunged into blackness. The elevator continues to climb steadily through the dark. I like the darkness's commanding grip on me. No choices for me to make. I'm tired of having to make choices. Choosing when to tell my father I was pregnant, choosing whether to keep the baby and the most painful choice, choosing between my father and Aidan. My choices flood back to me and form a confusing roadmap of pathways and criss-crossing arrows, blurry faces and regretful memories. I shut my eyes, I don't want to see anyone but Aidan. At this command, my tangled mind surprisingly complies. Soon he is standing in the dark elevator beside me. His image almost tangible.

His blue eyes, his brown hair, his faded freckles, each puzzle piece of Aidan relaxes my tired body. But there are missing pieces that my mind can't re-create. The feeling of his hand in mine, his gentle touch, his careful voice. Everything about him was gentle. The tears come once more as I watch him ripple back into darkness. Fading to the edges, he looks at me with thousand-ton sorrow as his eyes flush with tears, the way he looked at me during the reaping.

This year the reaping snuck up on me. I was so preoccupied with Aidan's proposal, the pregnancy and moving out that I forgot all about it until the morning of. Even then, it was my last year, and Aidan was already nineteen. If I hadn't been chosen yet, what were the odds I'd be chosen now? Then they called my name. After the past year, I truly believed there were no more tears left in my body. Ends up I was wrong. The sound of my name was like a piece of factory machinery coming down on top of me. The sorrow on Aidan's face was like the entire factory coming down. Weeks later, none of it has been lifted.

"Memory, all alone in the moonlight, I can smile at the old days. I was beautiful then."

A memory, pillow soft and candy sweet, comes from my mind. It glides in and wraps around me, pushing away all my sadness. The memory is nothing but a kind voice singing to me, but my mind produces it like a reflex every time sorrow threatens to crush me. It expands in my brain, leaving no room for sad.

I used to believe it was an angel in my head. It wasn't until I was eight that I found out what it really was. My father had thrown me into timeout, yelling and shouting about the shattered picture frames, courtesy of my soccer ball, all over the floor. As I was crying, the voice rose up from my mind like it always had. It comforted me so much I found myself singing along out loud. When I looked back at my father, he had tears in his eyes. The voice was my mother, Rianne, and the song was a lullaby she sang for me every night before she died. Rianne, I love to hear her name. On the other hand it's a curse because no matter how hard I try I can remember nothing but her voice singing me one song.

Sharply, the elevator stops its climb. The baby kicks, my heart thrums as I try to preoccupy my mind in any way possible. The arena is here. Now. I'm in the arena. There are one million things I have to fear and no time to think about them all. I decide to find comfort in the most comforting thing I know of.

I sing the song, over and over and I can feel the baby shifts softly at the sound, at its grandmother's words and its mother's voice. My soft whispers fill the elevator and float around it like bubbles. The memory swells from my head and wraps around me protectively. Gently, I run my hand over my belly. In that moment, I am safe.

There's a rumbling and the elevator trembles, breaking my memory's protection. Up and down, the elevator jerks sharply. I try to press myself up against the wall but it's not there anymore. Roaring fills my ears. A blinding white light fills the space. I cover my ears but the thundering doesn't stop. The elevator continues to shake violently. Someone screams, a girl, me. I am the one who is screaming. I crouch down to the floor as chaos surrounds me. Scared and alone.

Inside of me, my child screams too.

A booming voice sounds over the noise. Cold, commanding, yet somehow comforting in its familiarity. It is the voice of President Snow.

"Tributes! Welcome to the arena!" it booms as I am thrust into my nightmare.

"Welcome, to Snow's Games!" he speaks coldly.

Hardest chapter EVER to write, hope you enjoyed! Sorry its a bit short, long arena chapter coming soon.