I'm not gonna lie—I was a little worried about what I would be forced into for opening ceremonies. We were usually fishermen, or nets, or like that one year where the District Four tributes were boats. But I listened to my mentors and sat like a good little tribute while my prep team fussed over me, removing every little hair on my body they didn't want. They fuss over my hair; apparently it's the prettiest they'd seen in a long time.
"How do you keep it so free of the saltwater?" my hairstylist, Calpurnia, asks. Her eyes are wide and deep brown, flecks of gold brought out by the dark black eye shadow she wears. It's actually kind of pretty.
"I, uh, well there's a lake close to my house," I reply, thinking fondly of the little lake. It really is quite beautiful; with beautiful flowers and a couple of palm trees my dad hung a hammock from. It's where we go to relax, to even fish a little bit. No one knows about the fish, of course, or the Peacekeepers would possess our poor little lake and we'd have to fish for the Capitol. Even so, we were fairly well-fed, as compared to some of the other districts. District Four was pretty well-off.
My prep teams disappears and I'm left alone with a middle-aged woman, her blonde hair pulled into a tight ponytail, her skin tinted a deep blue. She leans against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. I can feel her eyes on me. Just staring.
"What?" I snap, unable to help myself. I've never liked being stared at.
"I'm thinking of how you're dress will look," she replies, then shrugs. "Well, let's get it on you and we'll see." She drops some sort of heavy, soft material over me and pushes me in front of a mirror. She's turned me into… a fish. Yeah, a fish. But a pretty fish.
My dress was covered in scale-like gems, each a shade of blue and silver. Every time I moved it shimmered, casting rainbows of color on the opposite wall. It made a pleasing tinkling sound, a sort of bell-like chiming. My face had delicate blue wave designs, blue diamonds and ribbons woven into my wavy dark hair. It was very beautiful, and that was before she put on the silvery-white cape. It gave the impression I was in the ocean; that I [i]was[/i] the ocean. I couldn't speak for a moment.
"….It's beautiful," I manage, and (not gonna lie) I got a little teary. If I won the games, would I be able to wear things like this? It would be almost worth it.
My district partner, Saturn, met me at the front, where our white horses and carriage were tethered. He's dressed in an outfit a little like mine—but more… manly, I guess. He looked good though. "Are you ready?" He asks, and I jerk my head forwards, the only answer I could give. He takes my hand and pulls me on to the carriage where wait for our signal. District One… Two… Three… us. I know we are beautiful. We're the ocean personified, we are what they wish they could see but can't. We bring a little bit of District Four to the Capitol, to the other Districts. It was what made us [i]us[/i], what made us special.
I always loved that part of the games. And, well, I wanted to be a part of it someday. And here I was, the girl from the ocean, the girl who smiles and waves at the audience. What a tribute should be-not like those sullen, angry-looking tributes from ten and twelve. They should be happy they're not starving back home. I know I am.