Author's Note: Chapter 2 is already up! No, I'm not crazy, for updating this fast, I actually already had this chapter done. It usually takes me about a week or less to do a chapter... And, oh my god. Really thanks you! I never thought I would get 2 follows and a review in less than 24 hours! I'm really happy that you like it :) So, here's the second chapter, slightly longer with more dialogue... I hope you guys like it, and review! It keeps me going!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.
Chapter 2 - Fooled
Darting my eyes back in forth between the crowd and the screen, my face is getting wetter, no tears in the mix. I refuse to cry. I didn't cry since mother left. The crowd stares at me vigilantly, probably thinking about how they won't have any victors this year. And they are presumably right. But they don't know me. Even though I might be unavailing and weak, I will try to win. Not for father, nor for the district. I will play the games for myself; to be somebody else, to feel more depth, to feel alive. Even if it requires my death, I will pursue my beliefs.
Keeping my features cold and blank, our escort guides us into the Justice Building. Rough peacekeeper hands crawl into my weak arms, making me slightly yank in surprise. I don't see Daviel at my side anymore; he probably got urged in another room.
I don't have any opinion about him. At first view, he definitely comes out plain and the usually cocky boy. Hopefully, he could pull himself out successfully of the arena if I die before him.
Pushing me in a luxurious room, I catch myself staring at the dark window, immobile, not registering the space around me. The walls covered in beautiful gold and red tapestry remind me of the dresses mother used to wear on reaping days or when she was singing. She was a sumptuous woman who took care of herself, but who got hauled by the medicine. She lived fast and died young. She won't be coming through this door today, to see me one last time. And I don't think father will either.
Inhaling the humid scent of my wet hair, I slowly walk to the window. I can't see anything, the rain obscuring my view, as I slightly put my numb fingers on the cold glass. No footsteps can be heard from the hallway, leaving me and the room in an absolute silence. I don't even think that a peacekeeper is at the door anymore. I could escape, run away and miss out the games. But where would I go? I've got nothing left to loose here, I would have a better role in the Hunger Games than in life.
Suddenly, I hear the door unlock. Not even turning around, I can recognize, from the slow and lumpy sound he makes when he walks towards me, that it's my father. I never thought he would come. My back to him, I don't dare to face him, not wanting to see the expression that covers his figure.
"Don't trust anyone…" he says abruptly, staying far from me. Half turning around, I look at him, not recognizing the broken aura of his eyes. He never looked at me like this. His stare makes me somewhat believe that he still cares. Still, the firm and soundless line his lips are in, reflect otherwise. I remain quiet, looking at him anxiously, not knowing what to do. Still, his wise words can only mean good. Mother trusted him, and was brought down. I never pardoned father for his acts. But deep inside, we both know that he had to stop her suffering.
Pushing the thought away, I only have time to see father come towards me, before he warps his arms around my frail body. Putting his towering hands over my shoulders, he brings me in an awkward hug, like the ones I used to have before we fell apart. Not leaning in, I stay as still as marble, feeling the warmth of his alcoholic breath on my face as he pulls way.
"Make your mother proud…" he whispers, before dropping something hard in my bare hands, and quickly leaving. Abandoning me there, with a dice in between my fingers, I stare at the door. He left me here, to surrender to my fate. His words still echoing in the air, I can only think how foolish it was of him to say such a thing. I can't make mother proud, she's dead. And so will I be, in a few weeks, unless some sort of miracle happens. She didn't make me proud, so why would I make her proud?
I think I'm dumb. I would try to make her proud no matter if she would be still alive, a junkie, or dead.
Eventually, some white suited man pulls me from the golden room, throwing me back next to Daphna, in direction of the train. Cameras flashing, white lights and a loud buzz are the first things I see and hear. Quickly pushing me and Daviel in front of the train, Daphna squeezes in between us, flashing a charming smile to the photographers, before urging us into the train. I guess I won't be the first choice for sponsors this year, not with the worn out green skirt and muddy boots I'm still wearing. Still, I will have plenty of time to impress them in the Capitol. Fancy velvet chairs and tasty patisseries wait for us, as the sound of the mob decreases.
"Now my dears, you can settle down and taste some of those delicious cookies… I'm going to search for your mentors." our escort murmurs, before leaving the compartment. Daphna doesn't have that Capitolian accent we always hear on TV, she actually sounds like a fairy, a slightly anxious one. What is she stressed about? I have no idea.
Daviel immediately goes for the food, not losing a minute of grace. Not minding him, I sit down hesitantly on a red loveseat half covered in a white fur blanket, like the fluffy coat mother used to wear. Her family was rich, as rich as you can be in district six at least, until they all got ruined because of the drugs. The white pelage eventually got black and dirty, just as her brain. Looking at the rain still falling on the window, I remember all the times I used to wear that coat after her death, until father had to sell it, not having enough money for his unhealthy necessities.
With a filled plate, Daviel comes and sits down opposite me, a small table in between us. His messy brown hair still wet, I wonder for how long he didn't eat. He seems well build for a sixteen year old. We don't talk, but the gaze he gives me says enough. With that playful smile and raised eyebrows, Daviel will totally die if he continues to give me that teasing look. Not that I plan to kill him. People like him just don't tend to last.
Narrowing my attention from my district partner, I look down in the palm of my hands, founding what I've been clenching to since I left the Justice Building. I have no idea what the six faced dice father gave me means. It is clear that it's meant to be my token, but this small black cube has no utter meaning for me. It's probably another of his jokes. Not that I care, I don't need anything to remind me of the tedious 'home' I now, once had.
"Did we ever meet before? You look familiar…" asks Daviel with a smirk playing on his lips, before looking back down to his famous meal. His voice sounds slightly childish, even though I know he couldn't be immature.
"I don't think so." I respond tickly, cutting it short, not wanting to form any relationship with him. He will eventually get killed, if I want to survive. Plus, he isn't worth my time. Even though I don't have a plan yet, I know that having a close friendship with my district partner isn't the right way to play it. I will return to the hell of district six in a wood coffin if I even try to have any sympathy for this kid.
"I swear I saw you somewhere…" he whispered again, looking up, a bashful gaze shadowing on his face. Shifting my eyes far into his, I try to decide whether or not he's messing with me just to get my attention. Eventually he drops his eyes, smiling in defeat. Pushing my thoughts on how hungry I actually am, seeing Daviel putting pastries after fruits in his mouth doesn't help. Deciding not to surrender the temptation to steal something from his plate, I keep my hands forcefully clenched by my side.
Wondering, I can't decide where Daviel must have seen me. His doubts are surely false, since my life for the past few years has been a lonely graveyard, where nobody came to mourn or pray for their lost ones. I always kept to myself, trying my best to not get noticed, pass as a shadow without a voice. Responding when asked, but never questioning. The truth is: I don't appreciate society. People are deceiving, and they only make fools of themselves when they talk. Silence is the answer to all problems. In my case.
Daviel and I don't speak during our wait for our mentors. I eventually serve myself with a few pieces of cakes and sweets. Never did I taste something as smooth and sugary. Sitting back down opposite my district partner, I look at each of his movements, discretely. Alert, I raise an eyebrow as he opens his mouth to speak. But he never gets to say a word, interrupted by Daphna making a noisy entrance, as she stumbles once again in her heels, her tight mini dress lifting a few inches. The women following her lets out an aggressive growl, mad at our escort who accidentally stepped on her foot.
"Gush… Can't you be clumsier you little bitch?" she asks sarcastically, dangerously defying Daphna with a stare that could kill her instantly. The woman is none-other than Aster Fastrack, winner of the 51th Hunger Games. Her temper always on the edge, she is one of the most senseless victor of district six. Not that we have many. She is just utterly mean with everybody, always ready to snap. Still, everybody knows she's completely miserable. Her black makeup, dirty blonde hair and yellowish skin clearly reflect her agonized personality, as well as her drug use, which isn't surprising. Truthfully, I understand why Daphna is looking at her with wide eyes, not sure what move to make, by fear of disappointing again.
"Drop it Aster… She isn't worth it." calmly states the tall old man behind Aster, as he passes between the two rivals, breaking their stares. He comes to sit down next to Daviel, as he warmly smiles at both of us. Incredibly tall, the old man must be one of the first victors of district six, since I never saw him before.
"Well hello… I'm Helis and that is Aster…We shall be your mentors." he says, smoothly pointing behind himself to where Aster is rolling her eyes, serving herself a glass of wine. Daphna stays quiet, taking small steps to the seat next to me, still under shock of her encounter with the devil.
"I pick the boy. The girl seems weak." says suddenly Aster, giving me a disgusted look, before passively sucking on her drink, staying near the rest of the alcohol. Unsurprisingly, she reminds me of my father. Daviel grins maliciously, while Helis scowls, not accepting Aster's attitude. Giving me a half smile, Daphna tries her best to console me. Not that I need any of her pity. Deep in me, I knew that this truthful confession was coming. I am weak.
"I will not bear to hear such words from your mouth, Aster. We are here to help these children, not to…" Helis begins, but is interrupted by Aster's loud voice.
"Oh please, Helis. We both know she doesn't stand a chance!" she scoffs, laughing hysterically.
"Good then. I will mentor young…Esmay here, and we shall see who will survive longer." says Helis, before proudly standing up, casually taking my hand in his large one, guiding me out of the compartment. I hear several incoherent words, before Helis quickly closes the door, telling me to take a place at the small silver table near the sunny window. Clearly, we are not in district six anymore, as the sun gleams through the glass, embracing my dead white face. Helis sits down opposite me, before lighting up his old wood pipe, smoke dancing in the air.
"I hope you don't mind…" he asks with concern, as I slowly nod in approval. I can see the wisdom in his floating brown eyes, as his dark chocolate skin shines in the sunlight. Helis can only be one of those sensible old mans, who actually cares about whether or not a child dies as a fighter or by giving up.
"Don't bother with Aster. She has a soft side, she's just too melancholic to reveal it." he eventually says, looking at me intently, as I observe the roughness of his slight white beard. How can Helis know Aster good enough to figure out such a thing? Aster seems strictly indecipherable.
"Tell me about yourself Esmay." I only give him a tin desolate smile, refusing to mention anything about my past.
"Look, I can't help you if you're not whiling to at least give me a clue of who you are and how I can work with you. You know… sort out your strategy… encourage you to win." he express' carefully, making sure to make an emphasis on the work 'win'. Quavering almost annoyingly, I look into his eyes, giving in a long silence before replying.
"I don't think I can win." I say bluntly. Sighing, Helis looks at me with regrettable eyes, undoubtedly sorry of my fate. Even if I die, I don't see how it would affect him. He sees death every year or so, and it won't be a surprise if he gets back to district six with empty hands, without a victor.
"Let me guess… You feel slightly conflicted with yourself and you're not sure whether or not you should trust me… probably because of bad experiences. Mind telling me more?" Rather astonished, I directly stare at him, not minding hiding the small hint of a wince that crosses my lips. Pleased that he aimed right, Helis smiles, so brightly, that his white teeth reflect on his dark skin. Father did tell me to not trust anyone, but he only meant the other tributes, didn't he? Besides, Helis wants to help me.
"I'm an only child… my parents didn't quite raise me well. They never wanted a kid after all… Ummm… My mother… she died, of an overdose." I stop there. Never did I realize that my voice could sound so insecure. Nodding understandably, Helis looks at me, before calmly taking another drag of his pipe.
"Do you have any talents? Weapon knowledge, surviving skills?"
"I know a few drug effects. But I don't see how they can help me in the arena." I say with an airless voice. Helis simply grins, his wrinkles meeting near his eyes.
"I'm sure we can figure out something… Now leave me a day or so to think about your strategy and angle." He eventually says while standing up, before disappearing behind the silver door, leaving me alone, to contemplate the shining sun. I hope Helis knows what he's doing. He's been in this business for a long time after all. I'm positive of the fact that he will at least help me stand out and correct my insecurities.
Feeling the sun's warmth hit my ghostly skin, I wonder about the Capitol. Immediately, electric lights and neon colors fill my mind. After all the images and news on TV, I don't think I will be disappointed. Interrupting my thoughts, I unconsciously see Daphna coming to sit down opposite me. Putting her long blonde hair behind her ears, she nibbles her lips impatiently, probably waiting for me to speak first. As I said it before, her distinctive features make her such a beautiful creature to gaze at. It wouldn't be surprising to see every male specie fall for her, unless Capitolian men are very picky.
"Who is that?" I suddenly say, breaking the silence, remarking the fluffy white fur tucked in between her crossed arms. Two big blue eyes, directly stare at me, as my voice lightly echoes in the room. The animal ridiculously looks like Daphna. It has wide blue eyes, innocent features and white pelage which perfectly frames it's small figure, almost the same color as my escort's hair.
"I present you to mister Heart, Rabbit Heart. I named him like that because of his little heart-shaped nose." she whispers with a frail smile, staring down at the bunny, while caressing his back softly. Her traits seem tired and her eyes filled with a lonely gleam that I cannot identify. This pet must be a great value, for her to even bring it on the train, or maybe it's just a new trend, having a rabbit matching your hair.
"I bet you even have a heart-shaped box to put him into." I say, the pampered animal taking my attention as well.
"Yes. Actually, I do. A heart-shaped coffin. He will die in two months. He has a disease." Daphna states, rather calmly. Slightly shocked, I look at the rabbit even more intently. He doesn't seem sick at all, in fact, he seems like a newbie with long off-white ears, originally descending from the greatest heavens. Well, who knows, maybe Daphna changes her pet quite often too. Or she's just passive towards dead. Still, the way she looks down at the animal reflects that she cares for it. Maybe even a little too much.
"Oh. I guess he won't be the only one to die then." I mutter unemotionally.
"Talking about that… I truly think one of you two will win this time. Even though I say that every single year, I will fully devote myself to sponsors and every unpleasant procedure it takes to get one of you safely back in district six." she continues, wisely choosing her words, while continuing to stroke her pet. I am surprised by the seriousness of her words, revealing her business side. Taunting my dark grey eyes over her sullen expression, I can only wonder whether she meant me, or Daviel. Still, as her vivid innocent eyes sway up to meet mine, I realize that I have no idea what goes up behind her magic mind. Or I'm just not good at reading people, as Helis proves to be. Daviel was easy to decipher, since he's just plain annoying and like most people, deceiving. Still, Helis and Daphna have truly intriguing personas.
"You can't control the games." I state, as it was an indisputable rule.
"Oh darling… I can do so much more." she smiles cautiously, keeping her voice low, before standing up, Heart still in between her tender fingers. Lavishly, from the young and shy girl who tripped on her killer heels in front of Aster, Daphna instantly became a fine woman, who seems to know a lot more than meets the eyes. I believe that Daphna must be someone important back in the Capitol, even though her young age, who cherishes the diversion and attractiveness of an act. She completely fooled me.
"Now, we will approximately arrive in fifteen minutes, so there is no use for you to get a room. Besides, your prep team will perfectly take care of you. They are going to make you breathtakingly beautiful…" she warbles, exposing her perfect white teeth, before exiting the compartment, walking in an absolute straight line. I doubt her words.
Remaining in my silver chair, I stare into emptiness, thinking about the events to come, as the wagon gets dark, passing in a tunnel. In probably a few minutes, I shall be exposed live to the whole sponsor quest, trying to look and act my best. As a reminder, I begin to untie the knots of my jet black hair, now dried from the heavy rain from my departure. Not that I can pull that off. I am definitely not one of those natural beauties. I always considered myself quite average, with a tone of freckles and a troubled past. I don't see what or who could make me so 'breathtakingly beautiful'. Daphna has definitely lost hopes.
District six isn't quite far from the Capitol, judging that we need to be close, providing the transport the fastest possible. In fact, I may have repaired this train a few times. Thinking about it, my job was truly boring. I don't think I ever want to return to 'home' again. I don't miss it, and I'm so delight that I am here, in direction of my destiny. Even if it means my death, it will be better if I abandon everything behind, leave it in the past, where it's meant to be. Would mother be proud of me?