As I am British and 15 years old, it may not surprise you that I am not Suzanne Collins.

The Decorated

We are taken us straight from the station to the remake centre, though there isn't much 'taking' about it. It is around a 10 second walk from the train to the doors of the centre. But what a ten seconds it is. I stood by the doors for what seemed like hours, until Lyna shoved me in the back, and opened the door. The train station is gleaming white, looking way too clean. I glance about as Lyna pushes me unceremoniously onto the platform, I stumble, and stand up, fuming that I have been shown as weak this early on in the process, and by one of my mentors. I pick myself up, but do not retaliate, knowing I will look foolish either way. And as I have said before, I would like to keep my head intact over the next day or two. Preferably longer, but that may be pushing my luck. Kai and I are escorted towards a tall building with big, brown doors, each one wider than my house. The doors open, revealing a large, spacious white corridor, with 25 doors, 12 on each side and one at the end. The corridor is empty, which surprises me; I was expecting the stylists to surround me the second I got in! Hydrao points me towards the 4th door on the left, which has the words 'District 4, Female' emblazoned upon it in a sea blue. Kai goes to the door opposite mine, which is exactly the same, but with the word 'male' instead of 'female'.

I enter my remake room and my imagery of stylists surrounding me comes to life. There are three of them, all dressed in – what I assume is – typical Capitol attire. They show me towards the bed and begin the arduous process of relieving me of my bodily hair. This hurts. A lot. I ignore the pain though, as I know worse awaits me in the arena. They engage me in some small talk, and I learn their names. The tall one with bright green, curly hair introduces herself as Tullia, while the shorter one, with the same hair is Lucia. The other one is mid-height, with plainer hair, is called Aquila, and I entertain myself while I am parted from my hair by trying to guess whether he/she/it is female or not. Aquila has long-ish hair – longer than mine, anyway – but has a low voice, low enough to be male, but not too low to be female.

They finally finish plucking me, and move on to scrubbing me with various bodily lotions, one of which smells suspiciously of clams. I try and keep my nose away from that one, as I really, really don't like clams. They're full of bacteria, and we're always being told never to eat them at home in District 4, just because they're so dangerous. I know someone who knows someone who ate one and died 43 minutes later, in a pool of his own vomit.

Once the general body stuff has been completed, they go off to find my stylist. I sit there, awkwardly, wishing with all my might that our normal stylist has been killed, so I can get one which is half sane. My wishes are not answered. Junia Ketta walks in, in what seems to be a dressing gown. She has her normal look, which is normal by no-one's measure. Her skin is dyed a vibrant orange, with small flecks of green and yellow which makes her look surprisingly like a pile of moving vomit. I think back to the story of the boy who died in a pool of his own vomit after eating the clams, and I wonder whether Junia has eaten clams recently. I stifle a laugh.

I do not tell her this, though when she looks at my short hair and tells me I look like wildcat, it tests me.

I stay quiet as she walks round me, making critical comments about everything from my lack of make-up (because sure, I should let my family starve so I can smear skin-coloured crap on my face) to my fingernails.

"Those nails are way too long!" She tells me in her stupid, ugly, stupid voice "You should cut them immediately, how do you expect the boys to like you if you have claws!"

I can feel my temper rising, my blood pumping stronger and faster than I have ever felt it before. I always thought anger would feel painful, but this just makes me feel drunk, giddy with power. I could do anything. I have the urge to punch Junia, but decide against it.

I'm not sure if they've ever killed a tribute before the Games started, but I really don't want to find out now.

One thing I have learnt from being mildly peeved in the past is that I become incredibly childish, calling things ugly and smelly all the time. I'm not even that sarcastic when I'm angry, and I consider that my best attribute. My sarcasm is all that keeps me sane sometimes. Some sarcasm would help now, but it leaves me when I'm angry.

She laughs at her stupid joke. I smile demurely at this, because the alternative is punching her in her puke-covered face. She tuts a bit more before continuing to circle and make negative comments. I sigh and let her do this, though my blood is boiling, from the train journey, being pushed and this obnoxious woman currently in the process of judging me. She examines my face closely, and I note that she smells of puke as well.

"You really need to take more care of yourself" she tells me sadly, with her ugly, stupid, pukey, smelly, stupid, ugly, vomit face right in front of mine. "Those spots make you look hideous!"

That does it. I tell her' to kindly get her stupid little ugly face out of mine, and to wash, as she smells of a mixture of crap, vomit and rotten fish.' I also tell her that her skin makes her look like living sick, and the little green bits remind me of the phlegm that build up at the back of my throat.' Breathing very heavily, I stare into her eyes. She looks about ready to cry, which gives me some sort of savage pleasure. She then turns around and moves over the white bag she had brought down with her, and picks up a pile of towels. Why she has towels is a mystery to me. She then unfurls the towels and I realise with horror that it is my outfit. "You want me to wear that?" I exclaim in revulsion. She gives me a satisfied smirk and tells me to put it on.

"You look… interesting"

I glare a Kai, who's currently dressed in what looks like a blue overall, but with a half see-through green bits which display the more 'interesting' parts of Kai. His hair is decked with little bits of seaweed and I think I see a starfish too. My outfit is a lot less flattering. We are currently waiting to leave for the chariots, though we won't actually leave for ages, as we have to wait for some of the districts further away to arrive. "What did you do to piss of your stylist" he tries again, looking amused at my outfit. For the hundredth time.

"I told her she looked like a pile of sick that grew legs" I tell him, and he looks at me with a mixture of smugness and impressedness. I exaggerated slightly there, but the important parts remain the same as I tell him what occurred in the styling room. He keeps glancing at my outfit so I say "Stop that"

He rolls his eyes "Stop what?"

This irritates me even more "Stop looking at my stupid outfit!"

He smirks again "Not my fault you look so brilliant in it." That aggravates me further as I know his sarcasm is well placed. I am dressed as a towel. Seriously. I though tributes had to match with each other! According to Hydrao, I was supposed to be dressed similar to Kai, and this was a prototype.

"You must have really annoyed her" he told me "you look awful." This improves my self-esteem greatly. My outfit is made of two towels stuck together at the edges, making me look like I've just come out of the shower, my hair is messy too, though Junia promised me I looked wonderful. The towels aren't even shapely! I'd get more sponsors wearing a sack! What do towels have to do with fishing anyway? I'm still fuming when Lyna comes over and gives the first sign of emotion I have ever seen, though unfortunately, it is at my expense. She gives a snort of derisive laughter and tells me I look like I fell in a rubbish bin and came out wearing the bag. Angry again, I stalk off to find Lucia or one of my less revenge-bent stylists. I probably shouldn't have said the vomit-comment to Junia, but she was being damn irritating. I find Aquila and Lucia in my styling room, simpering over some clothes or something. They look up at me and burst out laughing.

"It's. Not. FUNNY!" I yell in frustration, and they stop laughing, though they giggle occasionally.

"Please." I tell them "Please, fix this, I look stupid." Lucia goes and gets some pins out of a box in the corner and begins to pull the towel-sack tighter around my waist. I know I have curves, but this sack does a good job hiding them. With Lucia and Aquila's help, I manage to look somewhat attractive, though all the pins have run out. The towels now look more like a fluffy dress.

"Aquila angel, could you go and get some seaweed out of the draw." Aquila reaches for the cupboard nearest him/her but Lucia interrupts him "No, the thicker type".

S/he goes to the other side of the room, and Lucia says to me (in a stage whisper) "He's a bit slow sometimes, but we still love each other."

So that settles the mystery of Aquila's gender. But raises other issues about his sanity. He like his women green? I can't deny that Lucia isn't a nice person, she has just saved me from looking terrible in the chariot rides (now I just look forgettable). Aquila passes over the seaweed – though it looks more like a green rope to me – and Lucia ties it around my head like an Alice Band. She smiles and says "Now you look almost presentable!" She laughs and I feel my friendliness with her slowly begin to evaporate. Deep calming breaths Aal, I tell myself. I am never normally this hot-tempered. I think it must be shock from being reaped slowly beginning to surface. I bet I do something stupid today. That's just the sort of awful day I'm having.

Sorry. Short, short chapter this week :( It will be longer next time, but the more reviews I get, the longer the next chapter will be! So, REVIEW!