Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, Mags, or anything like that. I only own some of the characters.
Review please! Oh and sorry if this isn't one of the best chapters! :P
The crowd cheers as our chariot pulls out onto the streets of the Capitol. I can see tons of people just shouting, and screaming unintelligible words, and others chant, 'District four!'. Even a few shout my name.
"Pearlynn!" a young man screams. He like all the other Capitol citizens, is overdressed, and is as fake as plastic, but I blush, smile, and give a small wave anyway. He smiles animately, but his next words are drowned out by the rest of the crowd.
A whole group of ladies swoon, and shout to Danny. One proposes marriage, and faints when Danny notices her, and smiles back. Danny's face turns red instantly, after seeing what an effect he can have, but he continues to smile. I catch his gaze and and raise my eyebrow slightly. If he hates the Capitol, then why is he doing this? But I already know. Because he doesn't hate the people, but the government itself. He is able to stand these silly people, because he knows what is at stake here. And maybe for once, he is able to enjoy being bathed in attention when back home in the Bottom Feeders, he had nothing but his great uncle left. He laughs, and pats my hand. I'm actually a bit glad that his hand rests on mine. If it weren't, my hand would fall to my side, and start to shake.
It's just, so energizing. I mean, all of these people have come to see us. They know our names. We are the talk of the stuck-up heart of Panem. I feel like I could run for miles without taking a breath. Invinsible; that's how I feel. I am hesitant though. If I smile too much, people will think that I am no better than these citizens, when in truth, I am disgusted by their habits, and their idea of entertainment.
Every time that a man/boy shouts my name, or a boy compliments me, I blush and give a small smile. I am so shy around people in general really. Even the ladies who shout at me make me blush.
Then it hits me, so suddenly, that I have to hold back a grin. Shy, smart, hesitant. That could be my angle! It is so much like me anyway. What better way to play the Capitol, then to be myself, but on a higher intensity level? This could actually work! I don't need to pretend, I can actually go along with an angle all on my own.
Caught up in the moment, I smile, wave, and even blow a few kisses. People throw flowers at us as we go along. We near a huge screen, and I finally notice how great we are looking to the capitol.
Our costumes are glowing, and illuminating our faces in beautiful, cool colors. The glowing does help with the overall appearance, but the thing that really makes us shine is our expressions. Compared to the other tributes, we are actually favoring the Capitol. Our eyes shine with hesitant happiness, and our smiles, although shy, stand out of our faces, almost blinding me with natural light.
The metallic faces of the District One tributes, are beautiful, but are unhappy, and scowling. Plain trees in Seven, that never seem to change. The coal miners in District Twelve are dirty, and straight out frowning. We are one of the only pairs of tributes, trying to win over the favor of the potential sponsors.
I mean if looks could effect someone physically, we would stun, paralyze, and kill. Every person in a five-mile-radius would suddenly drop dead. I think this is what Lilias and Onvin planned for us. To look amazing, and become completely unforgettable this year, and for all the years to come, even if we die.
On the screens, I can see all of the other tributes in their chariots. I want to know very badly about what their names are, and how they reacted to being reaped. Did they begin to cry, showing immediately that they were weak? Pump their fists in the air, and blanket the allusion of fearlessness, and courageousness to all that watched? Did they cling onto their loved ones, and beg to be spared. Did they stand rooted to the spot in silent horror and refuse to believe that their name had been called so briefly? Did they retire to the idea that their fate was sealed? Did anyone, in a moment of madness volunteer?
We near the end of the chariot ride. We circle around a balcony, and form a semi circle. President Snow sits on a chair at the top, and is shown as a close-up on the biggest screen, I have ever seen. There are others, smaller throughtout the streets, so everyone will witness this moment.
He sweeps his eyes across the semi-circle of tributes. He examines everyone of us, with his snake-like eyes, and it freaks me out to find that I am one of the people that he keeps his gaze on for a while. His pupils narrow in on my face, but I try to keep looking sort of happy no matter what. I don't want to let the crowd know that the President's stare gives me chills.
Finally, Snow begins to talk about the Hunger Games, and the honor you are giving your district when you compete in them. Since it is basically the same speech every year, I drone out the first part. I mean how many times do we have to be reminded that we have to die, for other's stupid mistakes? Come on!
I take this time to really evaluate the other tributes. As always, the career pack is full of huge monstrous, killing machines. The boys are muscular, and the girls follow right behind them. The only person not big enough is me. I mean I have muscles, especially on my arms and legs, from swimming, but I am small. These other tributes tower over me. Why does God hate me? Why did he make me naturally small?
Almost all of the other tributes are weak and scrawny. A few stick out despite almost all of them being Bottom Feeder material. A boy from six, who has a big build, the girl from 8 who's hands are calloused, her face is scrunched up in a never ending scowl, both tributes from 10, who look healthy and strong, and the boy from 11, who looks terribly fragile, and young as well as the girl, who looks tired, and starved.
I finally tune into what the President has to say. He talks about how this year's Hunger Games is going to be spectacular. Then he goes on to question who shall win.
"A worthy tribute from, District One, Two, or Four? Or an underdog from the others? A strong male, or a clever female?" he says, and the crowd goes 'hmm' right on cue.' I find that when he says clever, he looks down at me, and when he says strong he looks at my partner.
"This year is definitely going to be a great one. I wish all of out tributes luck, in the 53rd Hunger Games!" he finishes. The crowd begins another cheer, and the anthem blares through gigantic speakers. We all begin to roll out in the order that we came in. A straight and file line of chariots.
They throw flowers at us, and I catch one in my hand. I look up to see if I may be able to catch the thrower, but I see no one in particular that could have thrown it. I finally realize that the flower is a lily, and I remember something that my grandfather said many years ago before he died, when he wasn't sick, and he was able to take me fishing, swimming, and was able to tell me stories.
Paul and I had taken my grandfather to our pond one day. I remember how the old man had smiled, when we had told him to close his eyes, and come with us. We walked him all the way to the pond, with his eyes closed. We finally let him open them when we had reached the beach. He ran and actually jumped right into the pool without hesitation. My grandpa could still swim fairly well, despite being 56 years old.
We sat in the shallows, and grandfather stared at a lily that was growing alongside the weeds. He picked the flower, and showed it to the two of us. He rubbed the petal between his fingers, and ever so lightly plucked it off. Then he started his tale,
"Long ago, in a salt-water sea, a young girl, named Lily was lost in a terrible storm on a ship. She was thrown over the side, and the ship sank. All of the people she had ever known were on the ship, or back on the island that she grew up on, including her entire family.
With no ship to sail back on, Lily was trapped in the water. SHe would never be able to return to her homeland, but she did not mourn. She swam her hardest, and fought bravely against the sea ,which she was hostage towards.
Three days after the sinking of the ship, she came across an island. She rested there and was taken care of by a family who had lost their daughter to a terrible disease.
The family was struck by how innocent the child was. When they asked her where her parents were, she responded, 'Asleep on the bottom of the ocean.' When the family asked where she came from she said, 'From the sea.' And when they asked where she was going she only responded with, 'Forward.'
The girl grew up, with the same innocence she had possessed all her life. She even fell in love with a man that cared deeply for her. The man was a merchant.
One day the merchant was robbed, and killed. Lily was thrown into despair, and mourned her lost love. She swore that she would one day avenge his death.
She set out to find the man that had killed her love. She finally caught him trying to rob and kill another merchant across the island. She pulled out a trident that the local fishermen had traded her for a pearl bracelet. She plunged the trident's forked edges into the robber's chest, killing him instantly, saving the merchant. In doing so, she lost her innocence that had been bestowed upon her during birth.
She lived to be very old, and very wise. When she had died, her soul passed into the afterlife, and renewed the innocence she had once had.
At that exact moment, a flower unlike any other, bloomed outside her window. A lily. Ever since then, the lily was a sign to show the soul's parting of the living, into the innocence of the dead."
Paul and I were in love with his stories. Even this one was great despite the tragedies that take place in it.
"Grandpa, did she ever see the merchant again, after she died?" I asked. I was very young then, but I loved happy endings. He nodded.
"After death, Lily looked for the merchant, and found him waiting for her in a meadow of her flowers. He had waited many years for her to join him. They still loved each other very much. When Lily asked where he went, the merchant said, that he never left, because he was in her heart. He was there the whole time," my grandfather said.
"How do you know when you love someone?" Paul asked my grandpa. Grandfather chuckled.
"You love someone, when you would die to save them, and would wait like the merchant for the one you love. Why, do you love someone other than your family?" grandfather asked him, while he glanced between him and me. Paul blushed, and so did I.
"No," Paul said. "I was just wondering."
I was so young then, and yet I still remember it. I wonder if the thrower knows what this flower means. That's not very likely though.
We finally reach the end, and are taken back out of sight behind giant doors. We step off the chariot, and are complimented by our stylists, our prep teams, Jacci, and our mentors.
"Great job, sweeties,"Mags says, while giving us hugs. Over her shoulder, I see that Marley is staring at me once again. Did I do something wrong? I'm not that interesting am I? I just keep listening to Lilias and Onvin's praise so that I won't obsess over his staring problem.
"Now, my lovelies, you are going to go to your rooms, rest, and then we'll have dinner," Jacci says.
"Are the rooms the same as on the train?" I ask. She laughs like a silly little girl, and shakes her head full of frizzy, blue hair.
"God no! You have a whole floor to yourselves. Floor four. There is a dining room, with a magnificent mahogany wood table and chair set, a living room, filled with a large couch, a love seat, and chairs. And your rooms! They are so much bigger than those, cupboards on the trains," she says with a superior tone. She goes on about the details of our floor, but I am only half listening. I can't even wrap my head around something that big. From the way she describes it, it must be larger than the Justice Building in Four.
We are then whisked away, to elevators. Some of the other tributes are waiting for a ride too. Peacekeepers let us through with a ton of other tributes. Some, like me stay silent. Others like Danny try to keep the conversation flowing. Others only chime in every once in a while. They talk, but I can't even tell what it is about. Costumes? Chariots? Death?
Every few minutes we reach a floor, and a few people get off. We finally reach our floor, and step off, to go to our rooms.
We step inside, and my breath is caught in my throat. It is amazing. The floor is just as Jacci described it, everything. Mahogany wood. Plush couches and chairs. A marble staircase. T.V. screens.
"Wow," I hear Danny say behind me. I nod. Wow indeed. No matter how hard I try to hate the Capitol and it's over expensive furnishings, I can't help but be pulled into a mixture of envy and awe. We take some time to look around. By the time we are almost familiar with the place, our mentors show up.
"Let's get you to your rooms," Mags says, taking me and Danny by the shoulders. We are stopped by Marley.
"I will take the girl. Go on now," he says. Mags and Danny disappear behind a corner, and I am left with Marley. He gestures me to follow him, so I do. He leads me to my room, where I will be able to spend my extra time, being idle, although I would rather be productive.
He sits on my bed, and I wait. He must want to tell me something. Maybe he is apologizing for all the staring earlier, but I get the feeling that he is not one to apologize for simple things such as that, which really do not matter when it comes down to it.
"Look here girl," Marley whispers gruffly. "Don't go kissing up to the Capitol yet, like you were in the parade today. They aren't doing you any favors, other than putting you out of your misery before you starve to death in District Four."
"I am not kissing up to the Capitol," I say. How could he assume that after one parade, where I barely was able to smile due to my shyness, that I would actually like the Capitol, and the death they prepared for me. "I was just being myself."
"Well don't be yourself," he says getting worked up. Darkness starts to cover his features, and his pupils dialate. His temper flared so quickly, and he looks so insane now that it astounds me. "You need to work with the angle we gave you."
"But, you didn't give me an angle yet," I say. Did he really forget all of this? Was he staring at me all this time that he forgot?
"Yes we did, Naida! We need to stick to the plan. We need to get you out alive! We need to, you promised you would. You said you would for me!"
"Naida? My name is Pearlynn," I say. His face contorts into agony. He curls up onto my bed and starts to cry. He sobs, and choking sounds escape him, just like when I sob. He just lays there in a ball, and I am so confused, and freaked out. I try comforting him, but what can I say? I know nothing about this guy!
"Shh.. It will be okay. It will be alright." I pat his back awkwardly. What am I suppose to do?
He lies there for a long time. Mags comes into my room, after so long, and rubs his back soothingly. I leave her to her work. Marley finally gets up, and his eyes, are red and puffy like mine were this morning. He leaves me alone, and I wonder what just happened. Who is Naida?
Marley and Mags leave withought further explanation. Probably don't want me to get all in their business, but still.
I change into my clothes from earlier, and fold my costumes as neatly as I can, and set it on a chair. Then I lay down on my bed. I don't even bother to take off my makeup. What's the point right now? I can do it later.
Just as my thoughts are beginning to consume me, I am called for dinner. I sit down in a chair farthest from Marley, who actually came to dinner despite his mental breakdown in my room. Danny looks at me curiously, and I mouth, 'later' to him.
Avoxes enter the room, and serve us a real feast. We start with honey-butter on hot and freah rolls, and a light lemony soup. The main course consists of a thick slab of brisket, corn straight off the cob, buttered pees, more fresh rolls, and sweet potatoes casserole. Unlike at home, we have dessert. A creamy pudding, with slices of tropical fruit.
By the end of the meal, I am so full, that I feel almost sick. I look around and see that everyone else is fine. The adults are drinking glasses of alcohol, and Danny is shoving in mountains of pudding into his mouth.
"How can you not be full?" I ask him. If I am so full, then why isn't he? He shrugs.
"I learned my lesson last night. I was worse than you; I actually threw up. Just remember not to stuff yourself on all the rich stuff, and save room for more," he says.
"I'll try to remember," I say. But even thinking about going slow right now seems hard.
"Pearlynn, make sure you eat a lot though. You need to put on some weight for the Games. You could starve, so better to eat now," Mags says from across the table. I nod, but I am done eating for right now.
After dinner is done, we file into the living room. There is a re-cap of the entire parade. We watch that, and then are ordered to bed.
Lying on my bed in my pajamas, I can't fall asleep. I hear the parties in the street below, and it is distracting. I try to dream about the pond, and Paul by stroking the pin, but it is too hard.
When I can no longer hear anyone, I slip out of my room. There is a window in the living room, big enough for me to see outside, so I go and sit on the ledge, and watch the lights sparkle. But this is not what I want.
I sit down on the couch, and turn on the T.V. Fortunately, there is a recording of the reaping, so I decide to watch it.
From it, I see that many acted like I thought they would. Aventrine, the girl from One, volunteered, for a girl younger than her. The boy, Cade beat on his chest in triumph. The District Two tributes, Jamari and Virgil acted much the same,(without volunteering). The rest of the tributes acted much like me. Rooted to the spot, and speechless. One that really stuck out though, was the District Eleven girl tribute, Safiya. She didn't complain as the Peacekeepers escorted her to the stage. She didn't cry, smile or anything. She wasn't numb, because the pain showed in her golden eyes, but she still didn't cry.
After the reaping recording was over, I turn off the T.V. The intensity in the golden brown eyes of Safiya had burned so brightly, that I can almost feel her gaze in the darkness.
I creep back into my bed, no longer struggling with sleep. I lie on the pillow, and try to dream, and I am falling asleep, but is not to the splash in the pond, or the crackle of the hearth in my house, or Nana's whispering; it is to the pained, yet patient gaze of the dark skinned girl from District Eleven.