Happy Holidays all! Sorry it's been so long since an update. I'm really excited for the next few chapters because it's one of my favorite series. So enjoy!
I'm not a cat. That's good news. I'm also enveloped by very comfy blankets and cushioned by very soft pillows. The blankets and pillows match the very luxurious surroundings. Trees rush past through the window so I assume we must be moving. Maybe on a train? Either way, this is much more my style. I breathe in the sweet comfort of the room. It's nice to finally have a lucky break.
"Up, up, up! It's going to be a big, big, big day!" A light and happy voice calls me. I smile. This story will be easy. I can tell already. I untangle myself from the silky sheets and dress. I enter the next car which seems to be a dining car. I can tell because the moment I enter I'm hit with the delicious smells of freshly baked bread and cinnamon. My stomach grumbles. The last meal I had was a mouse. Now my mouth salivates at the sight of these pastries, even though I don't know what half of them are.
As I reach out for a plate, ready to pile on a mountain of the delicacies, a woman with a ridiculous hairstyle and a dress to match it passes by. She's muttering obscenities under her breath. She must have been the woman who woke me. The hairs on my arm stand up as I vaguely recognize her, but I can't quite place her. I clutch my plate, very heavy from all my food.
Then a man appears with a puffy, red face. Another kid, around my age, walks next to me. He smiles at me and grabs a roll.
"Sit down! Sit down!" The older, crusty man says, waving me over. I notice him pouring a clear liquid into his drink, and I doubt its water. These characters seem hauntingly familiar. Suddenly my croissant tastes stale on my tongue. I swallow hard.
"I-I'm not feeling too well." I stutter out. The kind looking boy rises, looking concerned.
"Katniss, what's wrong?" He says, reaching his hand out to comfort me. I freeze. He did not say what I think he just said. My eye twitches involuntarily. My hands tightened on the plate and my teeth clench.
"What. Did. You. Just. Call. Me?" I hiss through my teeth. The boy looks a little scared. He swallows cautiously before answering, "Katniss?"
My eye widened in terror. I throw my plate of pastries dramatically.
"No, no, no, no, no!" I scream, and run out of the car, leaving a shocked and confused Peeta, Haymitch, and Effie. I escape back to my room. On my nightstand I catch sight of Katniss's iconic mockingjay pin.
"NO!" I run to the window and throw back the curtains. I see the sign for District 4 flash by.
"OOHHH NOOO!" I turn away and run out of my room. I just run and run through every compartment until I come to the caboose. It gives me the perfect view of the path we've been traveling. I see what I came for, the door. It's made of glass. I pull on it, but it's locked. I scream some more in frustration. Wait a second, it's made of glass. I'm such an idiot. I smash against it, but I barely scratch it. I back up and run forward, but only hurt my shoulder. I pick up the vase of flowers on the table and throw it against the door. Still nothing.
I take a deep breathe. There's no escape. I'm trapped in the Hunger Games. I don't think I can survive in the Arena. I'm going to die. No. No. I can do this. I just need to calm down and follow the plot. Yeah. I have plot armor. I'm Katniss. They can't kill Katniss. She's the protagonist. Plus, in theory, I should have her bow and arrow skills, and maybe even some of her other hunting skills. Right?
I really hope so. I count to one hundred to calm myself. Then I force myself to look composed as I return to the dining car. As I peek my head in, Peeta looks scared, Haymitch looks disgusted, and Effie looks concerned.
"Are you…okay?" Peeta asks finally. I nod.
"Yeah. I'm good." I try to think of a good excuse for my behavior. "I just really hate these crossiants. Disgusting."
They exchange glances, but don't question me. I sit back down. What happens now?
"So, you're supposed to give us advice?" I ask.
"Here's some advice, stay alive." Haymitch answers, and then bursts out laughing.
"That's very funny." Peeta says, then lashes out and smashes the drink in Haymitch's hand. "Only not to us."
Haymitch considers this a moment, then punches Peeta in the jaw, knocking him from his chair. I don't know where it came from, but suddenly my hand shoots out, grabs a knife, and I drive it into the table between Haymitch's hand and the bottle, barely missing his fingers.
"Well, what's this? Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?" Neither Peeta nor I answer him. He nods towards me. "Can you hit anything with that knife besides a table?"
I decide to take advantage of my new Katniss skills. Instead of just answering him, I show off a little. I grab the knife, and throw it at the far wall. It sticks in between two panels. Haymitch raises an eyebrow for a second, but I caught him being impressed.
"Stand over here. Both of you." He motions towards the middle of the room. We obey, and he circles us, prodding us like animals at times, checking our muscles, examining our faces. It is degrading.
"Well, you're not entirely hopeless. Seem fit. And once the stylists get hold of you, you'll be attractive enough." He says. I put my hand on my hip defiantly.
"Excuse me? What right have they to judge me on my looks? I thought this was a game to the death, why do my looks matter at all?" I ask, angrily.
"The best-looking tributes always pull more sponsors, which is exactly what you want." Haymitch answers. "All right, I'll make a deal with you. You don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you, but you have to do exactly what I say."
"Fine." Peeta says without hesitation. I'm not as quick. I know that I need Haymitch to get me through the Arena, but the last time I had a "guiding force" it did not work out too well. I feel a twinge of guilt at the thought of Nemo. I try to forget him and focus instead on Haymitch.
"Oh, alright." I give in.
"Okay. So in a few minutes, we'll be pulling into the station. You'll be put into the hands of the stylists. You're not going to like what they do to you. But no matter what it is, don't resist." He commands. I'm about to open my mouth, when he cuts me off, "No buts. Don't resist."
I grumble a little, but agree. After we've been handed over to the stylists, however, I wish I hadn't.
"Holy-AHHWWWOUUUUUCH." I moan, biting my lip. I'm surrounded by Lady Gaga impostors who are violently ripping the hair off my legs. Violently being the key word here.
"Sorry!" One of them pipes in a silly accent. "You're just so hairy!"
I nod hazily, a little dazed from the pain. Whoever said pain is beauty, deserves to be forced into the Hunger Games with a pack of rabid tigers chasing after them. I vent my anger into this daydream, when I'm informed that the stylist is coming. The prep team leaves, and I'm left alone in the room naked and very sore. Is now a good time to attempt escape? However, just as I survey the room for possible escape routes, the door opens and a young man who must be Cinna enters.
For someone from the Capitol, he only looks like he was slapped in the face with glitter, and not like he bathed in it.
"Hello, Katniss. I'm Cinna, your stylist." As he says this I realize I'm still naked and very self-conscious.
"Hi." I answer in an embarrassed, trying-to-keep-a-straight-face voice. He looks me up and down. I swallow nervously. I blame the media for making female body expectations unrealistic.
"Why don't you put on your robe and we'll have a chat."
"Oh thank God." I say, and quickly grab the robe. I feel much less vulnerable.
"How despicable we must seem to you." He says, locking eyes with me. I look around awkwardly.
"By we do you mean the stylists? I'm sure they have good intentions, just very forceful ways of getting rid of body hair."
"No. I mean the people in the Capitol. Forcing children to fight to the death and watching for amusement."
"Well, we have a similar ritual where I'm from. It's called Toddlers and Tiaras."
"Huh?"
"It's a District 12 thing." I lie. I'm getting pretty good at this.
"No matter. So let me explain your costumes." He begins. I'm sure you're all aware of the whole District 12=coal mining=coal for fuel=burning coal=fire=Katniss wearing a bonfire. It'll certainly intimidate the other tributes. So I meet up with Peeta and we get in the chariot.
Before I have a chance to catch up with him, the music begins and the chariots start to move. The music is blaring, and it has an unnecessary amount of drums.
"So, how much body hair did they rip off you?" I joke.
"What?" He asks. He must not have heard me over the music.
"HOW MUCH BODY HAIR DID THEY RIP OFF YOU?" I say louder.
"How much Hotty Fair?"
"No, BODY HAIR!"
"What?"
"FORGET IT!" Stupid music makes it impossible to have a conversations. Then Cinna shows up with a giant flame, ready to light us on fire. My stomach turns.
"Uh. Cinna I'm not feeling too hot anymore."
"Don't worry, this'll fix that." He replies.
"Wait, no! That's not what I meant!" I plead, but it's too late. Suddenly I'm a human kebab.
"Do you at least have any marshmallows?" I ask. But the chariots have started to pull away. Cinna yells something, but I can't hear.
"Was that a yes?" I ask Peeta.
"What?!" He yells back. I forgot about the loud music.
"I think he wants us to hold hands!" Peeta yells, pointing at my hand.
"Alright, but this doesn't mean we're in a relationship!" I yell, but I don't think he hears me. We circle around the stadium, with Capitol people screaming and jeering. I even think I see a Go Katniss! sign. I yawn. I thought being on fire would have been more captivating. It lost its spark after the first few seconds (no pun intended). Then President Snow gives a speech, which is worse than all the awful graduation speeches I've had to sit through. Finally it ends and we get off.
"That was nerve-wracking. I was getting a little shaky there." Peeta says.
"It's fine. I'm sure no one noticed." I reply.
"I'm sure they didn't notice anyone but you. You should wear flames more often. They suit you." He says. I stare at him for a moment.
"I'm not sure how to react to that." I say. "I'm not sure if it's a threat, if you want to set me on fire, or if you're hitting on me and it's supposed to be a compliment. If so, then I will reiterate that the holding of hands means nothing."
"I did enjoy holding your hand though." He says before walking away. I'm very baffled by him, but I'm also too tired to care, so I go back to my room to take a long nap.
I'm exhausted after the tribute parade. All I want to do is take a long nap, and eat a whole gallon of rocky road ice cream. But I don't get either of those. Instead I'm forced to go to dinner where there is a lack of rocky road. The entire time Effie and Haymitch babble about strategy and sponsors or something. I blank out. I know it's supposed to be important and may save my life in the arena, but let's be honest, I'll probably screw up their advice anyway so who cares? Plus I read the books.
After the boring dinner (with no rocky road ice cream) I decide to go for a walk. I get into the elevator, only to discover that I'm only allowed to go to the roof and our floor. Defeated, I return to my room to take that nap. Unfortunately, that was also ill-fated. As soon as I close my eyes I am greeted with nightmares about the Editors, cats, and rocky road ice cream. I wake in a cold sweat. A second later Peeta runs in.
"Are you okay? Do you want me to help you fall back to sleep?" He asks.
"No! I fine. GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" I yell. As he leaves I throw a pillow at him, but miss. "AND THE HAND HOLDING MEANT NOTHING!" I add. I have a sad feeling he didn't hear me.
I will try to post more chapters soon. I've already written some so it shouldn't be as long until the next update as last time (sorry about that again). Please review!