Chapter Seventeen
A hovercraft materializes overhead and a ladder falls directly in front of me. Eudora would want me to smile, but I can't seem to find the strength to smile right now. I climb to the ladder quickly and look down at the slaughter-field until I am inside the hovercraft.
A doctor dressed all in white comes towards me. Forgetting that I'm no longer in the Games, I begin running the other way. Another doctor stops me. I stomp on his foot and punch him in the face. Now a swarm of doctors in white coats are surrounding me. One grabs me from behind and stabs me in the neck with a syringe.
I instantly feel limp and fall into him.
He drags me to a silver table and ties me down. I guess he's scared I'll attack him again. They poke and prod me, tending to little cuts and scrapes on me until I calm down. When one of them is positive I won't attack them again, they unstrap me and I'm allowed to walk around. I decide to sit in a corner quietly and pick at my suit until a Capitol attendant tells me that we've reached the Training Center. I stand to follow her out, but I'm stabbed in the neck with another syringe.
When I wake, I want to sit up, but there are restrictive bands around my waist and ankles. I see a bright light above me that glows a pale yellow onto the entire room –which is really just my bed and the machine that I'm hooked up to. I can't find any doors or windows, but the grey eyed Avox girl appears through a section in the wall with a tray of food. She sets it on my thighs and raises me to a sitting position. She adjusts my pillows and then leaves.
The meal is simple. A bowl of broth, a serving of applesauce, and a glass of water. I'm upset. I just won the fucking Hunger Games and this is all they give me. I resist the urge to throw the tray across the room in anger. I eat it slowly, and when I finish the applesauce, I feel as though I might vomit.
I wonder what's happened and how many days it has been. There's usually a few days between the end of the competition and the announcement of the victor so that they can put back together this broken person. I'm sure Plato is off somewhere designing gowns and wardrobes of all kinds for me to wear. All I want is to return home to District Four –where homecoming decorations are probably being made and a celebration is being planned.
Home. Dad and Henry. Sara and Paige. The thought of the real ocean and real sand between my toes makes me shiver with happiness. Just the thought of District Four brings a smile to my face.
I struggle against the restraints, and I see a liquid coming through the tubes. I'm knocked out in an instant. Three more times I wake up, am given food, and then knocked out. When I wake up the fifth time in the same white room with pale yellow light, the restraints are gone. At the end of the bed is the dress I wore to from the Training Center to the arena.
It takes me a moment to stand on my legs all by myself. I fall the first time I step forward because my legs are limp due to lack of use for the past however many days it has been since the arena. Using the bed to pull me back to a standing position, I walk around the bed for a few moments and then slip on the dress.
Not a moment later, the wall opens up, and I see Mags.
I begin to cry, and if I were able to run I would have. But I can't run, so I walk as quickly as I can without falling and hug her. I can't find words to thank this woman. She and Finnick got me out of the arena.
"Thank you," I murmur into her white hair. "Thank you." My voice cracks the on the third or fourth time I say these words because I haven't spoken in so long.
Mags pulls away from the hug and looks me in the eye, "You're welcome, sweetie, but it wasn't all me."
Finnick.
If I was crying before, I was weeping now. I feel a mixture of sadness, of feeling that I've somehow disappointed him, of anger that I've survived that damn arena, of missing Mason, and of fear of what is to come. I find myself in Finnick's arms and weeping into his shoulder. We don't say anything. The two of us just stand there hugging each other until I am out of tears to shed. Even then, I don't want to let him go. Soon I'll be going home, and I will no longer have to worry about obeying Finnick's orders or pleasing the Capitol. I will be my own, and I will be no one else's.
"C'mon, let's get you to Plato. The ceremony will be in a few hours." Finnick and Mags stand on either side of me, Mags' left hand in my right hand and Finnick's right around my shoulders. We arrive at an elevator that immediately opens and takes us up to the fourth floor.
When the doors open again, I see my prep team –Thisbe, Vidal, and Zadie- and they immediately begin gushing over me. Soon enough I'm being fed a real meal (tender beef, green vegetables, and soft rolls), though I don't mind that the portions are small because I am hardly able to eat even that.
They lead me back to my room; I'm naked again in moments. They begin poking and prodding at me with their stupid dentist-like sticks. I stay silent as they comment on my body and talk about their favorite moments of the Games.
I tune them out after a while, and stare at myself in the mirror-window. In the reflection, I see Mason standing beside me, and his voice reaches my ears. "I should leave. I don't want it to come down to the two of us and you have to kill me, Capri. Thank you for taking care of me as long as you did, Capri. You can make it out. I know you can."
"NO!" I shout at the mirror. Mason fades, but I can still see him. I feel tears streaming down my face. I run to the mirror-window and hit it with my fists. "NO! NO! NO!" I slide down the window, shutting my eyes so as to not see his face, but I can still hear his voice: "Capri. You can make it out. I know you can."
"No, I couldn't, Mason, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Zadie is weeping. Thisbe is trying to pick me up from the ground. Vidal is yelling for help with a sob on the verge of escaping.
"Sweetie, sweetie, look at me," I hear a soft voice in my ear. The hand on my arm is soft and old. It can't be a Capitolian because they don't allow themselves to look old, but I'm afraid they are still here. I can't bear to see them right now, not after they laugh about how people died. About how I killed people, how Ceaser killed people, how Mason died.
More tears slide down my cheeks. Mason is dead. I allowed him to walk off to his death. I simply hope Ceaser was merciful, that he didn't make Mason suffer.
The hand moves to the back of my head. It massages my head. It calms me down. "They're gone, sweetie. Please open your eyes." When I open my eyes I see Mags. She smiles at me and takes my hand in hers. She kisses my forehead and whispers, "You have to be strong, Capri." She's silent for a few moments, but I take refuge in her arms.
After a few minutes, she helps me stand and walks me into the arms of Plato. Plato helps me into the newest gown of his creation. It's a beige, sheer material that has blue gems everywhere, strategically covering my breasts and my crotch with beautiful patterns created between the two. It has a slit that runs up to a few inches below my left hip. The gown is sleeveless and hugs my chest and flows straight down once it reaches my hips.
"It's beautiful," I force myself to say. It is a beautiful dress; it looks like how I always imagined a mermaid would look like when I was younger. He's curled my hair to perfection, and his less-makeup-is-more-effective policy has now been tossed out the window. My face is painted to perfection. My nails are perfectly curved. The heels are tall and clear. My mother's necklace is present against my tan skin. I look as though I've aged four or five years in the course of the past weeks.
Plato leads me in silence to the elevator, which takes us to the training level.
The next moments will fall in accordance to customs: we will each rise from beneath the stage, first my prep team, followed by Eudora, then Plato, next Finnick and Mags will rise, and finally I rise from beneath the stage. Plato and my prep team run off to get ready for their appearance. I can hear the crowd from down here. I can only imagine it will be deafening by the time I am up there.
A hand rests on my shoulder. This one is calloused, but perfectly so, and much younger than the one earlier. This one belongs to Finnick. He gives me a small smile when I look up at him. He looks sharply dressed in a brand-new, black tuxedo and tie.
"It's all going to be different now," now facing directly towards me, he makes sure we are eye-to-eye, "Things changed while you were in the Arena. People like you, Capri." His eyes grow darker as he continues. "Things will never be the same for you. That's why you're dressed like this. You attracted a lot of attention, and people want you, Capri. I'm doing everything I can to stop them, but . . ."
"It'll all be okay, Finnick."
"No, it's not, Capri-"
"There she is! Our shining star!" Finnick's nose curls up as Eudora approaches us, Plato following closely behind. "Now, Capri, you stand here," she shoves me directly in front of the platform, "when Ceaser announces you, step here and the platform will rise up to the stage." She smiles at me and grasps Finnick's arm, pulling him away, scolding him like a child for not being in his "proper location". "And please" Eudora turns around to look at me, shouting across the very vacant room, "smile!"
My nerves are rising again. I feel like throwing up the meat and vegetables I ate earlier, but I force myself to keep it down. My right hand is shaking, so I clasp my hands together in an effort to calm myself. I close my eyes and squish my nerves into a little ball.
I have a feeling that this will be the worst part of the 67th Hunger Games yet.
A/N: Once again, I hope you all are enjoying this story. Thank you to everyone who commented, favorite, and followed since the last update.
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