6

"You're not going to like what they're going to do to you." Haymitch circled Prim and Peeta like a vulture. "But you're going to do whatever your stylists tell you."

Prim shrugged. "Okay." What did it matter? She'd be blown up in a few days, no matter how pretty the stylists made her.

The train entered a tunnel. She and Peeta ran to the window. "In a moment we'll see the Capitol."

Prim didn't share Peeta's excitement, though she was curious about the clothes that Capitol people wore. Then…there it was. The Capitol full of people wearing the brightest clothing Prim had ever seen. High heels, frills, ribbons, make-up…despite some of the odd appearances, Prim sighed. She couldn't help but love the idea of beautiful clothing.

Buildings stretched taller than the clouds, polished stone wound as pathways through alleys and buildings. What a place - what a magical, surreal, wonderland of a place. She tried to ignore the fact the people here would cheer on her death.

Onlookers pointed at the train and Prim ducked below the windowsill, but Peeta remained, nose against the glass, waving at them. How could he wave? It was so intimidating with everyone looking at them like that!

"Why are you waving?" she whispered up at him.

He shrugged. "You never know, one of them may be rich."

Oh yeah. Sponsors. Well, Prim didn't want anyone to waste money on her, not when she planned to explode into smithereens.

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Prim's fascination with the odd people of the Capitol disappeared when three humans - were they human? - demanded she strip down. Two women and one man, though their painted skin and squeaky voices made her think of them as mechanical toys. Human-sized toys who wanted her naked. And for some reason, it didn't bother them at all. Their names were Venia, Olivia, and Flavius. They bubbled over Prim, but no matter their kindness, she wouldn't take off her clothes.

She'd never been naked before except when taking a bath. But Mom and Katniss didn't count. "Why? Can't you just do what you need to with my clothes on?"

"My dear, you're a hairy beast!" Octavia squealed.

Prim hugged her arms around herself and Venia stepped close with her hand outstretched. Prim was so nervous that she'd tear the clothes right off her that she screamed. Venia recoiled and looked at Octavia with wild eyes. "Why did she do that? I'm not going to hurt her!"

"Go away!" Tears burned Prim's eyes. "I want Katniss." The plea came out in a croak and she was ashamed that such weakness escaped. But these crazy prep people wouldn't understand anyway.

"We'll just get Cinna." Flavius's orange curls bounced as he hustled the two women out.

Prim was left alone in the sterile room, trying not to feel guilty for her behavior. Haymitch told her to do whatever they wanted, but did he expect this? Did he have to do this when he competed in the games? The prep team was kind enough, but all of this was too new. Too new for Prim to handle.

After ten minutes, they crept back into the room. She backed against the wall, but Venia held out her hands. "Don't worry, dear. Cinna said to let you keep your clothes on. We'll just work around them."

Prim crunched the material in her fists. "Promise?" Flavius nodded encouragingly. His orange corkscrew locks bounced so crazily, that Prim smiled. "I'm sorry…I'm just not used to this."

"Would you mind wearing a robe instead?" Octavia asked in a soft, tentative voice. She held out a fluffy lavender robe.

"Alright." Prim took it from her, running her fingers over the soft material. She changed in a separate room and then returned to them, lying on a table. They went to work, hesitant at first…probably afraid she'd scream again. But she didn't. They seemed kind at heart.

"I like your skin color," she told Octavia who then blushed and took to brushing her hair with sweet, Mother-like strokes.

When it was all finished and the prep team left, Prim felt like a hairless cat under her robe. But she also felt prettier. They'd filed her fingernails into delicate round ovals, trimmed her eyebrows, and brushed her hair full of soft chemicals. What would Katniss think when she saw Prim on screen?

Prim swallowed.

Katniss. Katniss would be watching every second of the Games, inches from the screen, watching over Prim. Cheering for Prim. It was this mental picture—of Katniss hunching in front of the television screen, a look of focus as she mentally urged Prim on—that ruined Prim's plan.

She couldn't jump onto a landmine! Katniss would…would…be crushed.

Prim couldn't do that to her. She had to fight. She didn't want to, but she had to…for Katniss. The last gift Prim could give to anyone in this world was a fighting spirit and hope. Perhaps that was worth a little suffering in the Arena.

The door opened and a young dark-skinned man walked in. Gold lined his eyelids, but aside from that he looked perfectly normal. "Hello, Prim. I'm Cinna, your stylist."

"Hi."

"I'm sorry the prep team frightened you earlier. I can imagine how strange all of this must feel. I'm new here, too."

Prim instantly liked Cinna's soft manner, his kind eyes. "You are?"

He nodded. "I'm honored to represent District Twelve and, even though I can't help you in the Games, I plan to help you as much as possible in the days before they start."

Prim followed him into a sitting room where they ate lunch. Meanwhile, Cinna talked about his plans for Prim's clothing. "You're a soft flower and I want to capture that innocence through your clothing. You're brave, too, and I think we can capture that as well."

Soft. Brave. How could those two things go together?

After lunch, Prim was dressed in her District 12 outfit. It fit snuggly and, even though she'd be engulfed in flames soon, she felt safe. Covered head to toe.

Peeta arrived in a matching outfit and they climbed onto the carriages that would take them into the opening ceremonies. Prim wanted to pet the horses, but wasn't sure she was allowed to.

"You okay?" Peeta asked her. Goodness, she felt small next to him.

She nodded, but a lump had formed in her throat as the tributes from District 1 rode out in their own chariot, wearing glittering jewel-encrusted tunics. Soon everyone would be looking at her.

She didn't feel safe anymore.

Peeta slid his hand around hers and she startled. When she looked up, she met his eyes and they were smiling…in a nervous sort of way. "It's okay. I'm here."

In that moment, their outfits burst into flames. Prim screamed and clutched Peeta's hand. They hadn't started moving yet, but the fire eradicated any calm she'd had before. Cinna shouted from across the way, "Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you!"

Prim's breaths came quicker. She tried not to focus on the fire, but it was all around her. It didn't burn, though. In fact, she felt nothing.

Peeta squeezed her hand as their chariot rolled forward. "Prim…" He leaned down and whispered in her ear as they entered the city. "I'll take care of you, Prim. I promise."

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To be continued...

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How would you live if you knew the day you'd die? Parvin Blackwater believes she has wasted her life. At only seventeen, she has one year left according to the Clock by her bedside. In a last-ditch effort to make a difference, she tries to rescue Radicals from the government's crooked justice system. But when the authorities find out about her illegal activity, they cast her through the Wall - her people's death sentence. What she finds on the other side about the world, about eternity, and about herself changes Parvin forever and might just save her people. But her clock is running out.