Whew! Third chapter. Are you liking this so far, guys? I'd like some feedback. Also, I'm sorry every paragraph runs together in big clumps like that. I'm trying to fix it. Well, anyways, I present to you: Chapter 3!
I gape at the door with my mouth open in a comical sort of way. But there's nothing comical about my situation at the moment. I sit down and put my head in my hands. Why does she hate me so much? Spilling a drink on a dress she would never wear again anyway seems like such a trivial thing to be furious at each other over. I guess that's just what happens though, when you get on a Capitol girl's bad side.
But if not for Juliette, I wouldn't have been picked as tribute.
Just the very thought sparks a fire in me that quickly turns to full-blown rage. I could be running, weeping with joy over not being chosen, going to celebrate with friends and my family right now. But just because Juliette hates me, I have to say goodbye to my family for what might be the last time. Suddenly, a Peacekeeper holds the door open and my family troops inside. Felicia and Cyra are screaming and crying, and they cling to my legs. My mother looks at me, and immediately embraces me. "Listen, uh," I start, unsure of what to say. "Just… if anything happens to me in the arena, and you know it will, don't let Cyra and Chia watch. Please. And you shouldn't either. Take care of them, okay?" I look her straight in the eyes so she will be able to tell that I'm being serious.
A soft "Alright," escapes her lips. I kneel on the floor and look at Cyra and Felicia's tear-streaked faces. "And you two. Be really helpful while I'm gone, okay? Do everything she tells you." I gesture to my mother as I finish talking. I hug all of them one more time. Whispering a hoarse "I love you" to all of them, I feel myself dangerously close to letting tears fall. As my family leaves the room, I close my eyes, willing myself not to cry. Another knock on the door surprises me. Who else would want to see me?
In walks Justus Flame, a fair-haired skinny boy that's 16 years old. We're friends, yes, but not dating as everyone in 5 seems to believe. He had rescued Felicia from a wild dog years ago, and that's how we met. Felicia had run off to get blueberries from a bush she had seen. Blueberries are a rarity here, so how could she resist? After picking a few, I guess the dog had discovered her scent and followed her here. So there Chia was, cornered by a wild dog, when Justus had come flying out of nowhere with a gigantic stick. More of a smaller tree limb. He fought shooed the dog away and carried Felicia home.
Justus clears his throat. "Er," He says. I look at him and can tell he's at a loss for words. I'll help him out a bit. "I wasn't supposed to be chosen." He looks at me with a strange look on his face. "I don't think anyone was supposed to be chosen, Cass." I sigh in reply and start explaining. By the time I finish, he still has that strange look. "What?" I demand. "Nothing, it's just that… I… uh…" He swallows and I can see him sweating. "Well?" I question.
In a split second he has thrown his arms around me and words are flooding out of his mouth like a waterfall. I catch bits and pieces only to realize he's trying to say that he loves me. I ease his arms off of me, and smile back at him sadly.
"Er. Ditto?" I say. He laughs, and he is then escorted from the room, and is replaced by Cianah, who's talking a mile a minute about how we need to leave so Marcellus and I can meet our mentor. Taking one last glance at the room behind me, we go to the station. I look over at Marcellus, who has just emerged from his small room and is walking towards us. "So, how many people came to say goodbye to you?" He says, his voice flat. I shake my head. "My family and a friend. The most important people I know."
A rush of wind sends my hair flying to the side. The train has arrived. Cianah, Marcellus and I troop in and immediately I nearly turn over a table of glass figurines because I walk straight into it. Steadying the table, I go back to walking. We come out into the most elegant room I've ever seen. Crystal chandeliers are suspended by golden cords on the white ceiling, and the floor is spread out with a deep, rich red carpet that's softer than anything I have ever felt. There are plants I've never seen before decorating corners, and there is a giant fountain featuring a girl and a boy standing side by side, the girl wearing ripped clothes and holding a bow and arrow, the boy wearing shorts and no shirt sporting a spear.
There are booths in this car, so Marcellus slips into one and props his arms on the table. I slide in next to him silently. "I'll go get Sapphira." Cianah says hurriedly. Sapphira Hazlett is our mentor. She won the 59th Games with shards of glass. In those particular games, they were put in an arena where they had to fashion their own weapons. Most tributes had used sharp sticks and rocks, but she had managed to find some pieces of glass in a river nearby, strategically placed there by Gamemakers for anyone who was smart enough to look. Sapphira had used the glass and the poisonous food she had on hand to create a deadly weapon that killed with the first stab.
Sapphira walks in, wearing baggy pants and a tee-shirt. She slips into the booth, tosses her dyed-purple hair behind her ear, and stares at us with her inquisitive, chocolate brown eyes. Kicking her feet up, she looks from me to Marcellus, and sighs. "Well, at least the boy has a chance."
I jump up, extremely angry, and start to rant, but Marcellus stops me. "Be nice! She's the one who authorizes gifts in the arena, she can choose to let us die if she wants!" he hisses in my ear. Clicking her teeth, Sapphira stands up. "'Kay, what's you guys names, and what can you do?" She asks boredly. I jump at the opportunity. "I'm Cassia. I'm great with knives, and spears, and really any weapon you throw at me." So I stretched the truth a little, but who cares? "Ooh, you're so modest." Sapphira rolls her eyes. "But good with any weapon? I'll be the judge of that in the training center."
Marcellus starts out. "I'm Marcellus, and, uh… I'." He says in one breath. "You're what, kid? Speak up, or you're not getting to hear a lick of our strategy." Marcellus repeats what he just said, slowly, and Sapphira groans. "Oh, beautiful." She turns to me. "Maybe you've got a chance after all."
Hours passed, and finally we arrived at the Capitol. I had seen it on TV a fair few times, so it didn't surprise me as much as it did Marcellus. He was in total awe, staring at the screaming people from his seat. Finally, the train stops, and we travel through the city to where we'll be staying.
The place was magnificent. Chandeliers over the enormous tables set out with tons of food items, candies, a chocolate fountain, and a type of brown chicken with some sort of green, spicy sauce on it that reminds me of a forest. Running to a door and placing my hand on the identification keypad, the door flew open and I looked in, to find a room with a bed that looked much softer than the ones at home. I run and fling myself on the bed, with a satisfied sigh, I stare at the ceiling. It's meant to be a forest, looking upwards into treetops. I smile and call out, "This place is amazing!". Hey, if I'm going to die in a week anyways, why not enjoy what time I have left? With a last sigh, I fall asleep, dreaming of the good food I will eat in due time.
I wake up some time later, and head down to the dining table, and take a seat. A girl comes up and asks me in a sweet and polite voice what I would like to eat, and I say pizza. We had been able to make pizza once in 5, for the whole district to share. I'd love to try it again, and as I said before…
Sapphira immediately starts ordering at least 40 different foods. She rests her feet on the table, totally ignoring the squeaks of disapproval from Cianah. Sighing, Cianah turns to Marcellus and I, and starts to talk. "So, right after you finish eating, you're going to meet your stylists. Marcellus' stylist is named Septimus and Cassia's is Theon. They'll give you your outfits for the chariot ride, and you WILL NOT REFUSE ANYTHING THEY ASK!" Cianah slams her fist on the table and shouts the last bit. I'm startled. I thought Cianah was incapable of screaming. "Oh, dear, I'm sorry! It's just that last year's tributes were… unappreciative and very rude about it. I mean, gracious! Their manners were atrocious."
I can fully understand why the tributes had tried to refuse. They were basically in small scraps of clothing, barely a stitch on. Then the clothes had caught fire onstage, because they had been made out of wire.
My plate is whisked away, and Marcellus and I are taken to a building where we'll be styled, and basically stripped of our privacy. Standing outside the doorway, I brace myself and step inside.