Okay, so I was rereading ch. 4 and saw the last sentence said "…we head into my room and fall asleep." Just for specifics, they didn't go inside the room and immediately fall on the floor unconscious; they went into the bed and fell asleep quickly.
Anyways The Hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins, not me. Please review if you have time! Reviews really make my day (even if they aren't entirely nice. It just means people care enough about my writing!) Also I knew that tomorrow everyone would be reading Mockingjay if they got it, so if I want y'all to read this baby before going on a MJ hiatus, today is the day!
Okay now please enjoy ch. 5! Sorry it's so short! If you come back to read this after MJ, I promise my next chaps will be longer!
CHAPTER 5
"Get up, up, up! It's gonna be a really big, big day!"
Peeta and I wake up to Effie Trinket pounding on our door. I wish I could go back to sleep, though, because I woke up several times during the night screaming for Prim to run away from a burning Cornucopia. Peeta held me close and whispered soothing words to me until I fell asleep, only to relive the nightmare again and again. He must not have gotten much sleep either, and probably had nightmares too. His arms were trembling as they hugged me.
We finally get out of the bed when Effie's knocks become poundings on the door.
Peeta gets her to stop by yelling, "We'll be right there!" To me, he says, "Feeling any better?"
I shake my head. "Not really, but you can't be feeling to good either. I kept waking you up with my screaming."
"Yea, but I'm glad you did. Those nightmares feel so real I'd rather not sleep at all," says Peeta.
"Tell me about it," I mutter, and get ready for breakfast. While Peeta's in the bathroom washing his face, I pull on long brown pants and a dark green shirt. Peeta and I trade places. When I get out of the bathroom, Peeta extends a hand to me, clearly trying to convince me that the angry brother from yesterday is gone. I take it, and we go down the hall to the dining cart. Prim and Crist are already there, and I assume Effie is trying to wake up Haymitch. Peeta and I take our plates and load up on eggs, bacon, battercakes and rolls. I sit next to Prim and Peeta next to Crist, and notice the Capitol attendants have already placed steaming mugs of hot chocolate in front of us. They know our weakness.
The calm dining atmosphere is interrupted by Haymitch banging open the car door. He's muttering obscenities under his breath when he takes his seat. Effie follows, bright and chirpy as ever. I hear Haymitch mutter, "Didn't even let me sleep a wink," and know why he's angry. Effie sits down, and starts blabbering to Prim about some hair treatment she got in the Capitol that made her hair neon green instead of lime. Prim looks interested enough, but I decide she's just a good actor. No one from the Districts can think Effie's blabber is interesting.
I hear Crist clear his throat. We go silent and look at him. He looks embarrassed as if he didn't mean to start a table-wide conversation. When I get a good look at him, his short, straight brown hair doesn't resemble Peeta's in the slightest, and with his grey eyes he could almost pass for a resident of the Seam.
"Do you have a question?" Haymitch asks.
"Well, yes. What are we going to do when we get to the Capitol?" asks Crist. He should know from watching years of Hunger Games, but maybe he's nervous about the events behind the scenes.
"Well, you meet your stylist, go to opening ceremonies, go to training, go to interviews and go to the Games. Does that sound easy enough?" Haymitch replies, clearly annoyed Crist is asking such an obvious question. Crist slides down in his chair.
Prim breaks the awkward silence and asks, "Are we going to have Cinna and Portia as our stylists? I loved the outfits they made last year."
"Yes, you are. And you do whatever they tell you to do, no matter how painful it is," I answer, wincing at the thought of Prim getting de-haired.
Now, she looks mystified. "Painful?" she says, and arches her eyebrows, her way of saying she's interested, not scared.
"You'll see," I assure her, and turn back to my food.
I look up again when Haymitch starts talking. I pay attention to learn how to mentor other kids in the future. "As Katniss said, make sure you let the stylists do whatever they want with you. When you get to the Training Center, stick together. Go to the stations with the skills you don't know, and don't show off the things you do. Don't make any other alliances," Haymitch glances at me for confirmation. I nod. "But refuse politely. Don't want to make unnecessary enemies. Got it?"
Prim and Crist nod. "Good. Now when you get off the train, start acting right away. Sponsors have to see your sibling love, and they have to be convinced." The tributes nod again. We finish our breakfast and go to the sitting room. Staring out the windows, I am reminded again of last years' Games. The nervousness I felt from not knowing what horrors I'd be met with in the arena. The homesickness from thinking I'd never see my family again. I grab Peeta's hand tightly. He squeezes back, momentarily comforting me.
When the train starts climbing up the mountain to the Capitol, Peeta takes me into our bedroom. He closes the door and sits on the bed, staring at his feet.
"I've been thinking," says Peeta quietly, "that maybe we should mentor each other's kid." I look at him, and decide the reason he's speaking softly is out of embarrassment for rejecting my offer earlier.
"Sounds good to me," I say. I've been mentoring Prim for this thing her whole life. After all, the Games are just an extension of our previous ways- fighting for survival, although we didn't kill anyone. Peeta could teach her more than me at this point, and I assume it's the same for Crist.
Peeta looks up at me. "Ok, then it's settled."
The train stops, and I hear the door open to the cameras. "Right. Now lets go and meet our fans," I say, and take Peeta's hand. We leave the bedroom and go outside. Spotting Prim, Crist, Haymitch and Effie, we speed ahead and join them to venture into the next few days.