It takes me hours to fall asleep. I lay there wondering where the day had gone.
"Stop it Ruby! You'll get my dress all wet!"
April and I had been playing in a small lake by our houses. It was full of clear water and very quiet if you get there early enough. Most kids were inside, picking out dresses and suits for the reaping.
"Why do you care about that old thing?" She had been wearing an old dress that had belonged to her mother. I guess it had once been a bright sky blue, but was now a grayish color, and you could obviously tell where it had been ripped and sown up again.
"Come on, you know if I get even a spot of mud on it, my mum would kill me."
"Ha ha, not my problem!"
We were chasing each other around the lake, jumping over logs and splashing water in the other's face.
"RHUBARB! APRIL! GET OVER HERE, OR WE'LL BE LATE!"
That was my mother calling us. We had walked away from the lake laughing.
I coughed. Laughing. The word sounded strange to me now. Like something normal people did. Not tributes. Not those doomed to die. I rolled over and closed my eyes, turning fitfully.
Back home, at times like these, when I couldn't fall asleep, I'd go to my parent's room. My mother would pick me up and rock me gently, until I had calmed down. If only she could be here now, with her arms around me.
I sniffed sadly and gathered myself up in a tight ball, drifting into an uneasy sleep full of Knife-wielding children, and the sobs of my mother as she watches me die in front of her eyes.
I am woken abruptly the next morning, as a sudden burst of light is shined into my eyes. I open them to see Petra Mulroy, in a sharply angled dress of shocking pink, opening my curtains and letting the sunshine flood into the room. She turns towards me smiling. She has rhinestones surrounding her eyes in swirl patterns. Ridiculous.
"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" I grumble.
But she grabs my arms and pulls me out of bed.
"Today's a big day, better go out there and face it!" she cries.
Once I get my balance, she leaves the room skipping.
"Insane, the whole lot of them," I mutter to myself, pulling off my nightgown.
I splash some water in my face, blinking away the spots of white light swimming in front of my eyes. I turn to grab my dress, but I find that it's not on the rim of the shower, where I had left it. Petra must have taken it to get washed. Or maybe burned. I furiously dig through the closet, ignoring every outfit covered in faux fur, flashing lights, or sequins. Finally, in the very back corner, I find a plain black dress. I pull it on, aware of the fact it barely touches my knees. I rummage through the sock drawer and find some black knee socks. I find my mother's necklace crumpled on the bathroom floor. It must have fallen out of my dress's pocket yesterday. Attach the clasp around my neck, the flower pendent hanging at the bottom of my neck. I run to the dining compartment, where Petra and Briar are already seated.
Petra waves for me to sit down across from Briar. I do so reluctantly, but Briar makes no nasty comments about how I look. In fact, I doubt she even noticed me enter the room. Her eyes are unfocused and bloodshot, and when she yawns I can smell the strong scent of alcohol that makes me cough.
Alix comes a few minutes later, dressed in casual jeans and a t-shirt. He has bags under his eyes, and I'm guessing he didn't get much sleep, if any. Gregor follows him, looking awake, but definitely not as cheerful as Petra.
As soon as he sits down, we are served breakfast. If I had any doubts about the way people from the capitol eat, they were erased as soon as the platters reach the table. Mounds of eggs, sizzling bacon, and hash browns. There is a large bowl of cold fruit in the center, and a sharply dressed waiter pours cups of hot brown liquid. I take a sip of it. It has a slightly bitter, chocolaty flavor, but also tastes of cinnamon and cream, things that I have tried few times in my life.
"Thank you," I say to the waiter. He doesn't reply, merely nods and backs away into the kitchen.
"Quiet, aren't they?" I say teasingly to Alix, "Remind you of anyone?"
He smiles, but no one else does.
"What?" I say, looking around at the grim face of Gregor.
"Don't laugh, that was an Avox," he whispers.
"A what?"
"Avox," he says in the same quiet voice, "Criminals punished by the capitol. He can't reply. He doesn't have a tongue. The capitol cut it off."
I stare at him wide eyed, but he says nothing more, and I turn to my meal, eating in silence.
Petra finishes first, and dabbing at her mouth with a napkin says,
"I expect we'll be in the capitol shortly. You'll then get to meet with your stylists!"
She looks us up and down, her eyes lingering on Alex's calloused hands and my slightly bruised arms.
Stylists. These are the capitol people I'm actually interested in meeting. Not that I care about my looks, because I don't, but the fact that they are they are the ones who will set our titles, the ones who try to make us stunning, the ones who encourage people to help us during the games by donating items so we can succeed. Hopefully.
The lights suddenly dim, and the train makes an unexpected lurch upward. I grab the table for support.
"Don't worry," says Petra, "We're only making our way through a tunnel to the Capitol."
My stomach can't help but leap excitedly at the mention of the Capitol. After all my life of hearing about it, and seeing it on screens, I'll finally be able to see it in real life. The colorful buildings, the insane styles, the incredible foods…my thoughts trail off.
"So, who will be our stylists?" I ask, bringing myself back to earth.
"Oh, We're not sure yet. You'll see soon enough," Gregor replies.
I stand up.
"I'll be in my room, if you need me." I run out of the dining compartment and into my room. I enjoy the silence of it, other than the steady vibrations of the train. There's a knock at the door, I hesitate, and then say "Come in."
The door opens slightly, and Alix sticks his head in. "Hey. Can we talk?"
"Sure," I say. "Have a seat." I point to the bed.
"Thanks."
We both sit down, and he grabs my shoulders and looks me straight in the eye.
"Ruby, we need a plan."
"W-what?"
"We need a plan to beat the other tributes, woo the capitol, and win the games. Because I will make sure, one of us comes out of there alive."
"One of us?"
"You know the rules, only one winner. Period," he adds, as I open my mouth to argue.
"So, what are we going to do? I mean, what's our strategy going to be?"
"That's exactly what I-"
But he's cut off as the train compartment is bathed in bright light, giving us our first ever view of the capitol itself. My mouth drops open and I rush to the window, taking in the neon colors of the buildings, the crazed outfits of the people living there, the way that even the sky seemed brighter and friendlier out here in this land of perfection. People on the streets look up as our train passes, pointing and smiling and waving at their new sources of entertainment. Because that's all we are to them. Pigs prepped and raised for the slaughter.