No, we are not. In fact I hate her, I can't even stand the sight of her."
As I sit there, my mouth hanging open at what I have just heard, those words echo in my head, repeating again and again, like a broken record.
"Prim, Prim?" I heard a voice say. Slowly, I turn to see one of the tributes, her face struck with concern.
"Rue?" I whisper, as the room starts to spin and I start to feel a bit faint.
"Yes, it's me. What's wrong?" She asks, leaning closer into me.
"I-Caleb, he said he hates me." I reply, trying to calm my fast pace breathing.
"Yeah, I know, we all heard what he said..." She replies, looking sympathetically at me.
"Oh." Is all I reply, as I just don't know what to say to her.
All I can think about is why he said it, did he mean it?
She just smiles sadly back, before moving away to take her seat once again before a Peacekeeper drags her away.
Before long, the stage door opens, and out comes Caleb, his face emotionless. I quickly turn away, not daring to even look at him. Not that I want to, though.
But it's too late, and before I know it, I feel the presence of a body slide over, to sit next to me. I can smell the cologne, strong and sweet, and immediately recognise it as the scent of the other District 12 tribute.
"Prim?" He says, trying to twist my body around to face him. I don't let him though.
"What do you want?" I mumble, my hands over my mouth so my words are muffled.
"Look, I'm sorry. But I had t-" He starts, before I cut off his flow of speech.
"Oh, whatever. You humiliated me in from of the whole Capitol, and you expect us to be okay?" I snarl, turning around just so I could glare at him.
"I had to. I wanted to tell you, but they wouldn't let me," He says, trying his best to look sad and pathetic. Well that wasn't going to work with me.
"What do you mean, 'they'?" I question him, narrowing my eyes.
"it wasn't my chose to do that, I cannot express how sorry I am." He says, looking down at his lap, then to peer at all the other tributes watching us, their eyes watching our every move.
"What do you mean, 'It wasn't my chose to do that'? Your the one who said it!" I snap, suddenly jumping up from my seat and startling Caleb.
"Yeah, but I didn't want to say it. I was made to." He tries to explain, for about the 40th time. I just shake my head, to let him know I'm not falling for his little lie.
"Yeah, sure," I comment sarcastically, rolling my eyes, "Who made you do that?"
"I cannot say," He tells me.
"Okay, that's fine. Just make sure you never talk to me again then," I shout in his perfectly structured face. And then, in the heat of the moment, I feel my hand rise and the next thing I know, it's slapped him straight on the cheek. He looks a bit shocked at my outburst though; in fact, I'm shocked I'd done it too.
I'm normally the good girl, the girl who never gets angry, the girl who always does as she is told. Even after Father died, I tried so hard not to get angry, even though it was near impossible not to snap at Mother. But I held my cool, and only twice, in all my 12 years did I ever get annoyed. And even then, when Katniss told me to leave Mother alone, I did as I was told. I guess that was just the person I was.
"What on earth was that for?" Caleb cries, grabbing my shoulders to give them a good shake. I try to brush his elegant hands off, but he's way stronger and more muscular compared to me, the dirty blonde haired girl with the eyes as deep and as beautiful as the ocean. Apparently, anyway.
"You deserved it!" I screech back, trying to turn to run away from the whole scenario. I nearly do break his grip on me, but as I turn to make a quick exit, this time Caleb grabs my wrist instead.
"Let go!" I cry out, my wrist throbbing with pain because of his tight grip.
"No, I will not! I'm sorry, okay?" He shouts back, looking me deep into the eyes.
"Whatever, I don't care anymore!" Is what I reply, before shoving him straight in the stomach, so hard that he falls back, releasing me.
"Wow, she definitely likes the violence," I hear one of the tributes mumbles as I lumber past them. but I don't bother saying anything back to them, in case I offend them then become their main victim in the Hunger Games.
Just that phrase makes any one of us in District 12 shiver. After 73 years, only one tribute from our District has actually won. And now, all Haymitch does is get drunk only to get rid of the horrendous scenes he had witnessed.
As I practically sprint up to the immense lifts, I notice the other tributes not so far behind, chatting like nothing happened before. For a moment I wonder why one of the Peacekeepers hadn't stopped it, but then I remember. They want us to be enraged at each other; after all, it would be better viewing for the rest of the Capitol if we all hate each other. More bloody deaths, I guess.
Stepping into the lift, I smile at the lift attender, before pressing the tiny button on the side of the door. For the first time, I get a chance to look at the worker. He's not the same one that I seen on my first day at the training centre, this one is different.
From the way his mouth is positioned into a downward frown, I already know that he is an Anox. In a way, I suppose he is pretty good looking. He looks about 21, with golden, shiny hair and bright blue eyes, that gleam as bright as the sun. He's in the staff uniform of course; a fitted jacket along with black trousers and a tie, the colour determined by where you work. For instance, he is wearing an emerald tie, as he works as a lift attender. For some weird reason, the green actually contrasts amazingly with his ocean coloured eyes.
The lift pings, indicating that we have reached my destination. I thank the worker, before jumping out and swiftly walk away. He nods in my direction, before pressing a sleek button to shut the doors.
I wander to the apartment, where the automatic door slides open, allowing me in. Haymitch, Effie Trinket or Caleb are not there, only the workers who don't talk to you, as they aren't allowed. I sigh.
Grabbing a few slivers of meat along with a couple of chunks of bread, I go to sit down on the expensive, plush couch and turn on the television. As soon as the TV springs to life, the interviews from not so long ago appear on the screen.
I watch the interviews of the other tributes, mesmerized at how beautiful some of the girls look. And I even laugh at a few of their jokes too, even if my laugh seems too high-pitched and squeaky to be genuine.
Then Caleb's interview pops up. I freeze, before swiftly picking up the remote and switching it of altogether, before dropping the remote on the floor, like it was burning hot or something.
"Hello?" I hear a voice shout from the hallway. It was Caleb, back from the interview.
I dive across the room, heading straight for my bedroom so I could lock the door, determined for him not to see me; and I nearly make it too. But, running in a lovely dress is pretty hard.
"Is that you, Prim?" Caleb asks, as I hear footsteps getting closer and closer by the second.
I groan, before turning around.
"No, its a man eating tiger," I mumble, trying to show I don't care about what he did before by making a sarcastic comment.
It doesn't work.
"What?" He asks, his face ridden with a confused look.
"Nothing," I sigh, before turning around to carry on walking.
"Wait, I need to tell you something," He tells me, softly touching my hand.
"Let go!" I scream, before running away, making sure I slam the metal door in his face on the way out.
I lock my door, and grip the chair located at the back of my door, before pushing it against the door, so that nobody can get in. I just want to be left alone. Not even a visit from Katniss could cheer me up.
Wait, what am I thinking? Of course it would!
"Katniss, oh Katniss..." I whisper, wishing with all my might that I could just talk to her. Hear her sweet voice telling me it'll all be okay.
And for a minute, I think my prayer has been answered. But, I know it's just my imagination, thinking she's actually here. Really it's just her words repeating again and again in my head.
"It'll be okay," I hear the ghost of Katniss whisper to me.
I cry out to the voice, yet I know, it's just my memory playing tricks on me.
I decide it's time to get to bed, so slowly, after climbing out of my pretty dress, I open the door of the shower cubicle and turn it on. Powerful jets of water squirt from every direction, startling me. I'm not normally used to this amount of water, as at home we didn't even have showers. But after a few minutes, I get used to it and start to relax. Streams of make up fall onto the shower floor, and I feel natural again. I wash my hair too, scrubbing out all the hairspray that was used to keep my hairstyle perfect. Lavering my hair with a load of strawberry scented shampoo, I watch the crystal clear water wash all the pulls away and down the plug hole.
After many more minutes of feeling the hot water running down my back, I press the button to turn the jets off and step out onto the mat in front of the shower cubicle. I dry myself, before opening one of the oak drawers and finding a simple, mustard yellow nightie. I put that on, and without saying goodnight to anybody, I turn the light of, and hobble back over to be bed in the pitch black.
As soon as my head touches the soft pillow, my mind starts to work overtime instead of going to sleep.
Katniss, Mother, Buttercup and even Lady.
These are the things I think about.
But my most popular thought of the night is Caleb. I can't help but ask myself questions; why did he say that in front of the whole of Panem? Why do that, when he knows I thought we were friends?
He humiliated me. And I'm not going to forget that.
Even though I'm frustrated at him, I can't help the wave of melancholy that comes over me. And that's when the tears start to flow.
Huge sobs escape my mouth, and my head becomes very heavy, making it hard for me to breathe.
To other people, I must sound like a complete weirdo, but I really don't care. Just tomorrow, then it's the day when the games begin. This makes me cry into my pillow even harder.
I stay in this state right until I eventually fall asleep in the early hours of the morning.
But even then, I still have nightmares.
Slowly, I open my eyes, groaning at the bright light coming in from the huge windows to the east of my room.
The metal clock hanging on the wall in front of my bed says the time is 12:35. I'm late, very late in fact.
I rush to the wardrobe, pulling out a simple pair of pants and a loose fitting jacket, before brushing my teeth quickly and dashing out my bedroom door.
By the time I get to the main living area, everyone is already sat down, enjoying one of the last meals that the tributes will get before they have to start fending for themselves.
"Glad you could join us," Haymitch mumbles, as I pull up a seat next to him; as far away as possible from Caleb so I don't have to speak to him.
"Shush, Haymitch. We let her sleep, as she may not get much after today!" Effie tells Haymitch.
Did she really have to bring up the dreaded start of the Hunger Games tomorrow?
"Thanks Effie," I tell her, being sarcastic. But she things I'm genuine.
"Oh, that's fine," She smiles her fake smile, flashing her pearly white teeth as she does this, "Now eat up!"
For about the 10th time since I've been in the Capitol, I finish all the dishes. Wiping my hands on one of the napkins provided by an awaiting Avox, I notice Caleb not eating. Instead her's looking at me, a miserable look on his face. He catches my glance, but I quickly look away and focus on my empty plate in front of me. Maybe not the best thing to choose to stare at though, seeing as the dish is empty.
However, Effie also notices Caleb not eating, and decides to question him, making the atmosphere even more awkward?
"What's up then, our best boy tribute?" She says.
"Nothing," He mumbles, not even looking at her. Just looking down.
"Are you sure?" She asks, narrowing her eyes at him, clearly not believing him.
"No, not really," He says, being completely honest.