Seraphina Madrid, D7
The Gamemakers gave me a score of eight for training. My mentor, Young J, tells me the advantages and disadvantages of this.
"Sponsors like high scores. That is what's really important. I already have a few sponsors lined up for you. They think you're a fierce competitor." This is news to me. "The down side of getting a high score is you are now a target. The Careers don't want you in their alliance, and that instantly makes you a threat to them."
"I saw the tiny District 11 girl training with them," I add. "She's athletic and sharp-eyed, but dim-witted."
Young J thinks for a moment. "You're quite observant, aren't you?" I shrug. When your life is placed on the line, you tend to pay more attention to things. Young J sighs. "Like I was saying, be careful around the Careers. They'll want to take you out of the picture real quick."
I nod and Young J pats my shoulder. "You'll do just fine. You're smart, Sera, I know you'll do fine."
I sigh in relief. Young J is one of the most respected figures back home. If he has faith in me, I do too.
"Now it's time for the interviews with Caesar Flickerman," Young J says. "Thankfully, this is his first year as an interviewer, so he should be as nervous as you are. My advice is to stay calm and if you ever freeze on stage, do what I did."
"What's that?"
"Trip over the stage and land on a fat Capitol lady. Then tell Caesar you saw a vision of the future and that it looked very prosperous for him if you stayed alive to see it. I sold that story and I had twenty sponsors by the next day." Young J chuckles. "These people are so superstitious."
I laugh with him. "I don't think I'll try that. Didn't you sprain your wrist from that fall?"
His eyes widen in remembrance. "Oh, yeah. How did I win this thing after all?"
I laugh so hard my cheeks start to hurt. I wipe the tears from my eyes and look at my wise mentor. His eyes are clouded, like he's taken a trip back into the past. When he comes back, he glances at his watch and sighs. He looks up at me with sad eyes. "Prep time."
I groan. "No! She hates me!"
Young J gives me a small, sad smile. "Sorry." Then he chuckles again, no doubt at my bad fortune, and saunters off down the hall.
"Where are you going?! Young J! She'll torture me! Help, Young J!" I scream in terror, to no avail. I hear the deep rumble of his quiet laughter. I think he enjoys the idea of my stupid stylist strangling me with ridiculous clothes and jewelry.
"There you are, darling!" her high-pitched voice squeals. I visibly flinch. She grabs me in her death grip. "Let's go, Seraphina! We haven't much time before interviews. I fixed up them most lovely gown for you…" On and on she talks. I tune out.
In less than twenty minutes, I'm dressed in a floor-length, glimmering electric green dress with a pink ribbon wrapped around my waist. My straight dark hair is intricately braided around my head and left to rest on my left shoulder. The ends are tied with the same pink ribbon that is tied around my waist. My stylist didn't put any extreme makeup on, just a small amount to give my cheeks some extra color. When I look at the mirror, I'm stunned.
I look purely and simply angelic.
I turn to my stylist. Regret washes over me. So she doesn't actually hate me. She probably just didn't know what else to dress me up as for the parade. She made a rogue teen girl from 7 look graceful and majestic.
"I can't thank you enough," I say. "What was your name again?" Now I feel bad about not knowing her name.
"It's Miley," she smiles amiably. "You look ravishing. Let's go on down now. You're ready. Your district partner, Oakley, is wearing green as well. I took it that you didn't enjoy the tree theme, so we decided to skip that and just dress you in green. That way, you still reflect your district somewhat."
"Thanks," I say sincerely. "You have no idea how much that means."
We meet up with Oakley and his stylist by the elevator. Once we get to the stage, I feel someone poke my arm. I look down and see Oakley looking around nervously.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
I can see in his eyes that he looks terrified by the idea of walking up there and speaking. "I can't do it," he whispers, his eyes flying wildly about. "I've always had stage fright."
Not knowing what to do, I hold out my hand. "You can do it," I say. "Just pretend like you're talking to me the whole time. I hardly know you. It would be nice to get to know someone here."
Oakley nervously takes my outstretched hand. His shoulders relax but I can still feel him stressing. There is an anxious vibe in the air, and it's tangible. I don't understand the big deal. Three minutes. That's it! Sounds like a piece of cake to me.
My mother's words come back to me from when she said goodbye: You've got such a brave heart, Sera. You could stare down a lion like it was nothing. I've seen it in you.
"Thanks Mom," I whisper, almost inaudibly. Her gentle advice always reaches through to me in the roughest of times. Her words of wisdom give me the strength to conquer all things impossible. The things that people say I can't do.
They say I'm just a poor girl from 7.
They say I can't win the Games.
They say I won't make a difference in the world.
They are wrong. I will show them. I will do what others say I cannot do. I am determined to make a difference in the world. I will prove my mother's words true. I will show Panem that I am brave, that I am not some random girl from an outer district, that I can and will win these terrible Games.
They will see.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated!