Molly woke up the next morning, feeling... better. Maybe it was because of the crying the night before. Maybe it was because she knew there would be a delicious breakfast waiting for her. It may have also been her dream. A dream which conscienceness had interrupted.
She was back at home. It was winter. Her sister was there, and her mother. They greeted Molly with a "Merry Christmas!" as she came out of her room, still tired. She smiled and wished them a merry Christmas. Christmas was the only freedom they really got in Panem. The only original Holiday that the President would allow. The only holiday that had existed for hundreds, maybe even thousands, of years.
Molly watched as thick snowflakes fell past the window, creating a thin layer of snow on the ground.
"Why don't you open your presents, Molly?" Her mother asked. Molly jumped excitedly off the couch and walked quickly towards the decorated Christmas tree that Peacekeepers had brought to their house the day before Christmas Eve and would take away the next day.
As she picked up the biggest present under the tree, she shook it, trying to guess what it was. She unwrapped it, revealing a box. As she opened the box, there was another box inside. A music box. It was light blue with painted clouds and a painted, golden sun. Molly smiled as she opened it. The song that played was her favorite lullaby. A very old song, like Christmas itself. The song was Too-Ra-Loo-Ra-Loo-Ral. An Irish lullaby. Molly did not even know what that meant, but knew it had been passed down for many, many generations. I guess she just liked old fashioned things.
Molly had awakened just as her dreams had taken here to the moment when she got to be with her father. Her father was a Peacekeeper and was away a lot, but about six months before the sixth year of the Hunger Games, the year Molly's sister was a Tribute, her father had been heading to District 6 when something malfunctioned in the hovercraft. It crashed just between Districts 5 and 6. There were hundreds of Peacekeepers aboard, but only about eighty survived. Molly's father was not one of the lucky survivors.
District 6 is in charge of transportation and when hovercraft malfunctions started happening more frequently, the Capitol was very angry, and a lot of people who were at fault were put to death.
Molly walked into the dining car for breakfast. She was greeted with smiles from Tim Greenwood and Mycroft. She did not see Sherlock.
"Good morning, darling!" Tim greeted. "We will be arriving at the Capitol very shortly. Eat up!"
"Where is Sherlock?" Molly asked as she sat down next to Tim and an empty seat.
"He will be along momentarily," Mycroft reassured her. She nodded and took a bite of pancake, smothered in maple syrup.
Halfway through breakfast, Sherlock walked in. He sat down without looking anyone in the eye and nibbled on some bacon.
"Good morning, Sherlock!" Said Tim in the same tone he had greeted Molly with. "We will be at the Capitol soon. Dig in! Work on gaining your strength."
Sherlock glared up at Tim. Molly expected him to defend himself, but he did not say a word. In fact, there seemed to be a ghost of a smile on his face. He was a skinny looking boy, but more than once, Molly had seen him help someone, like his mother, with heavy boxes or equipment. He was stronger than he looked.
She even saw him beat up a boy once, on the school grounds. A boy named Gil was bullying a little girl. Gil was a big kid who no one stood up against. No one, except Sherlock. He had stayed low, too, but after witnessing how merciless Gil was to the little girl, Sherlock had gotten impatient with Gil and stood up to him. Knocked him right on his behind. That was the last time Gil ever bullied. He even became Sherlocks pet for the next month. An unwanted pet. Molly assumed Sherlock let Gil have it, because after a while, Gil avoided Sherlock all together.
How Molly never knew his name before now was a mystery even to her. It could have been because he was a whole year older than her so he was not in any of her school classes.
"I am pleased to say that you will be meeting your stylists soon," Tim said, wiping his mouth with a hankerchief. "Just as soon as we arrive at the Capitol. Of course, since we live closer to the Capitol than some of the other Districts, it will still be a few days until you get to ride the Chariots."
The Chariots, Molly thought. She remembered when her sister was riding on a Chariot for her Tribute Parade. She looked beautiful. She and Mycroft were dressed as stonemasons. One of the jobs from District 2. Her sisters chestnut brown hair was pulled up in a messy bun. She was wearing an outfit that was as grey as rocks. It was sleevless, and the bottom stopped mid-thigh, and in one hand was a malot. In the other was a chisel.
Molly did not remember exactly what Mycroft looked like, except that he was definately skinnier, like his brother, and his outfit did not show his legs like her sisters, and he was carrying a pickaxe over his shoulder. She did not remember him being so... bald.
Molly was now standing in the place she, Sherlock, Mycroft and maybe Tim, would be staying in until the Games commenced. Not too long after they stepped inside, they were followed by a group of eight. A man and a woman stepped forward and introduced themselves.
The name of the man was Fordan. The woman, Hewa. Hewa was Molly's stylist. The other three stylists, Hewa's helpers, were, Jordy, Fran and Meena. She did not know why she was meeting her stylists so long before the day of the Tribute Parade, but she was about to find out.
"The Tribute Parade should commence in about three or four days," Hewa said as she led Molly through a series of halls. "If we start early, we won't have to spend the whole day getting you ready."
"What do you mean?" Molly asked. They walked through a door, appearing in a large room with white beds, curtains, all sorts of equipment meant for styling. Or, how Molly put it, grooming.
Molly hated the fact that District 2 was like the pet of the Capitol. After the Dark Days ended, District 2 was the first District to give up in their Rebelling. They did everything the Capitol told them to do and were slowly gaining in wealth. Molly's family was not one of the wealthiest, which is why Molly would have her name put in for tessera. But with how things were going, there were a couple of kids known for putting their name in, just because.
Molly lay on one of the beds after changing into... some sort of plastic sheet cover. After a few hours, she could hardly move, she was in such pain. They had waxed almost every inch of her body, except for her head and private areas.
"We will take care of that later," Meena commented at one point. Molly knew exactly what she was referring to.
Jordy and Meena helped Molly to stand, and told her she could go change. She waddled to the place where she had left her clothes. She could hardly slip her clothes on, it stung so bad.
By the time dinner was ready, Molly was still waddling. She ended up next to Sherlock who was frozen in the middle of the hall, just a few feet from the door that would lead to the front room of the place they were staying. Molly stopped next to him.
"You okay?" She asked, noticing the grimace on his face.
"Fine," He struggled to say, as if speaking was painful.
"What did they do to you?" Molly asked, knowing he was lying.
Sherlock turned his head slightly towards her. He looked her over and then said, "Same thing they did to you. How can you move?"
Molly felt the sudden urge to laugh, but pushed it back. She did not want to seem rude. But, it also seemed like a good idea. She may have to kill him anyway. That thought pushed the laughter away.
Molly grabbed his arm, but he flinched away, so she let go and gently grabbed his fingers instead.
"You made it this far," She said. "Lets just get to the dinner table, shall we?"
They both waddled, legs apart, arms outstretched, towards the dinner table. Mycroft and Tim were already there, of course, waiting.
"You guys look... stunning," Mycroft teased, seeing how ridiculous they looked as they made their way over to the table. Sherlock rolled his eyes and slipped his hand out of Molly's grasp as they sat down to eat.
The aroma of the meal was almost enough to take over Molly's senses and forget about the pain, but not quite. Molly ate slowly, moving each part of her body very carefully. She noticed that Sherlock just sat there, staring at his food, as if he almost wanted it but could not get to it. She had to hold herself back from feeding him herself.
"Someone, please, help him," Molly eventually begged when he still did not move.
"I'm fine," Sherlock quickly argued. But now, both Tim and Mycroft noticed.
"I'll make sure there's more than enough breakfast tomorrow. You should be able to move by then, brother." Mycroft smiled, and continued with his dinner.
Molly could not eat anymore, not when Sherlock couldn't. She felt too bad, and she finally just excused herself. She knew it would take a long time to change into a night-gown anyway. She thought she might as well start early.
As she lay in bed, on her back, not moving, she started to feel numb. She knew the pain of moving would soon leave, which was good, because she tossed and turned at night as she slept, and she was afraid that the pain would wake her up.
Her thoughts took her back to her mother. Molly hoped Katie was taking care of her. Her mother needed someone, and she knew Katie very well. Molly was comforted by that. That comforting thought eventually lulled her to sleep.