Fluorescent lights hum and flicker above me in the cold examination room. A stout, green-haired man in a white coat, sits across from me, ticking off little boxes on a digital note pad as he sips his coffee. I take a strand of my freshly washed and perfumed hair and pull it under my nose, hoping to block any scent of his robust, black beverage.
"How long have you been experiencing abdominal pain," Dr. Antyllus asks, never looking up from his form.
I clear my throat, "About two days."
"And you say this is your first menstruation?"
"Y-yes," I respond, chewing nervously on the side of my thumb.
I had showered and paced my room for almost a half an hour, waiting for Effie. I was convinced Thread had hurt me far worse than I had thought and I was in fact, dying. When Effie arrived, she was livid that I had interrupted her meeting with The Silenus Agon, the mentor from District 1 who had championed more Victors than any other District.
She was mid-sentence about one of Silenus' philosophies when she noticed how uninterested I was in her story - sitting on the couch, knees tucked under my chin, visibly shaking. Through tears, I described my pains and of course, the blood. She then surprised me with a hug. Not sympathetic, but more congratulatory. It wasn't until she went on about how I had finally become a woman, did it occur to me that Mother Nature had decided that this was the perfect time to present me with this…"gift".
With each one of Effie's hugs and squeals, the worry and shock melted into embarrassment from my overreaction. She then suggested I pay a visit to Dr. Antyllus for a check-up, even though bleeding profusely from the most awkward of places was perfectly natural.
"Sexually active?"
I shift in my seat on top of the padded table, crinkling the paper sheet.
Active? Unwilling participant was more like it. I can't tell him about my recent introduction to the activity because my records might be accessible. If I lie, and say 'no', then my love story with Peeta will lose all credibility.
"Uhm, yes."
"How long?"
My mind searches for a time frame as I fidget with my long sleeves, pulling them over my knuckles.
The engagement, that's it. When was that? The Victory Tour… oh god, that was so long ago.
"Weeks, months? A year? How long?" The doctor breaks into my concentration.
"A few months, I guess." Ugh, this is embarrassing.
"Protection?"
"I'm sorry, what?" Puzzlement shows on my face.
"Prophylactics, condoms, birth control?"
"Oh! Uhm, I'm sorry. No." My face reddens in embarrassment. It never occurred to me and with District 12 being so poor; there is little money for contraceptives or education for that matter. My sexual education was accumulated from the hallway gossip at school and a particular group of coal miners as they crossed paths with me on their way to and from work. I had to cover Prim's ears on several occasions as we passed by the filthy men and their language.
Dr. Antyllus glances up at me before checking off yet another box.
"Any medication?"
"No."
"Any narcotics."
"No."
"You're seventeen, correct?"
"Yes."
"Okay," he sets the pad on his knee and finally looks up at me. "Your vitals are good, a bit of a fever, but that is expected. Starting your period this late is not uncommon, especially for girls like you from the outer Districts. Here in the Capitol, girls start as early as ten years old," the doctor says proudly. "I figure from your lack of proper nutrition and high levels of stress can cause the delay. But since your last Games, your diet has improved and you've gained some weight. It was bound to happen eventually. So, voila, you are now a woman," he says dryly before he stands up, handing me the digital pad. "Go ahead and look through this and I'll be right back."
The screen lights up with images of brightly colored illustrations depicting cartoon characters dancing around the screen accompanied by happy flashing letters, "Your Period and You! The Joys of Becoming a Woman!" I groan and throw the device down beside me on the table and rub my forehead. I am slightly annoyed at the fact that girls, ten-year-old Capitol girls, have matured faster than me. They are lucky that is the only blood they will see.
The doctor returns and gives me some blue pills and a small paper cup of water.
"These should relieve your pain. I will have the nurse set you up with some more on your way out. Hold out your arm for me please?" I swallow the pill and lift my left arm. He takes my wrist in his hand and presses a needle into the inside of my bicep. I suck air between my teeth and wince at the sting.
"What was that?" I ask, rubbing my arm.
"Medroxacyclen. Birth control. Good stuff, lasts five years, leaving you completely sterile." He turns and disposes of the syringe in a small orange container next to the sink.
"What? Why?" I am already irritable from Effie's behavior earlier, and now, confusion sinks in on top of an already awkward doctor's visit.
"Minor precautions, Miss Everdeen. There have been incidences in the past," he says as he turns around to face me. Dr. Antyluss leans back against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest.
I do remember one year involving such an incident. I was about ten years old, watching with my mother. The Games were well into their third week, so the initial violence and gore had lost its shocking effect, enough that we were eating dinner during that evening's broadcast. It wasn't until a female tribute had been beaten and stripped completely nude, that my mother suddenly remembered I had homework to do outside on the porch. The next day, with the conclusion of the Games, replays of the victory were aired nonstop. The girl had snuck up on her assailant after the attack and ran him clean through with his spear while he was standing lakeside taking a leak. A year later, she was back in the Capitol retelling her story to Caesar - with an infant on her lap.
"Why give me the shot now? Why not last year?" I narrow my eyes at him. If this were protocol, it wouldn't matter if I started my period or not. If any of the girls from the Seam were like me in delayed development, that didn't stop them from getting pregnant. Callie Hayes, a girl from school two years ahead of me, was fifteen when she dropped out to tend to her newly acquired duties as a mother.
"Like I said, really just a minor precaution. Tributes under the age of sixteen are less of a risk." I immediately think back to the list Peeta and I compiled of the recent pool of Victors - Finnick Odair was the youngest at fourteen and the youngest female was fifteen. My mouth twitches at the weight of the discussion. "We don't administer the shot unless female tribute has begun menstruating," he continues, "as to relieve her of the, uhm, symptoms should her cycle sync with the Games." He pushes himself away from the counter and picks up the digital device sitting next to me. He taps and swipes his fingers across the screen looking for another information program. "The medro will delay your next period for about another four months. So, one less thing to worry about, right?" When he looks up, his smirk disappears when he notices my scowl.
"But I will be dead in one month!"
I jump off the table in a mixture of anger and exasperation, sending him wheeling back on his tiny stool as I storm out of the office and down the hall. A tiny, pink-haired woman stands by the exit, holding out a small paper bag with a smile. "Here you go, Sweetheart-" I slap the bag out of her hand as I stomp past her, spilling feminine products and pills to the floor.
I yell angrily at no one and everyone as I kick through the exit of the Health Center.
-O-
I retreat back to my room and slam the door behind me. I begin to pace and swear as I rub my face with my hands. Receiving the shot isn't what set me off, I would have welcomed the idea back home when I had a future with no children in mind, but the fact that he kept pressing the long-term effects of it upset me. Everyone has been treating me with such optimism, I want to grab everyone by the collar and slap some sense into them.
Last year, no one even looked at me until the Gamemakers posted my score. I want the doubt again so I won't disappoint anyone when my body is lifted from the arena.
In the bedroom, I find a remote on the nightstand. This one is bigger than the one from last year, flashing a full color display of the different devices it controls. After a few taps, I find the hologram wall display and bring up a scene of a forest. This feature has improved as well, displaying an animated setting with leaves rustling in the slight breeze as grouse and sparrows cross the screen and other wildlife are heard in the distance.
I settle down on the floor, lean back against the bed and tuck my knees up as I take in the artificial images. I study the structure of the trees, thinking of how I would climb them. I watch as a squirrel runs along with forest floor and mentally time a release of an arrow if I had my bow. I peer into the distance and try to figure out which direction would lead me to water. I imagine Gale appear suddenly from behind a tree, breaking my concentration before loosing another arrow.
Until now, I have forgotten all about the dream. My eyebrows rise at the memory considering I have never thought of Gale like that before. Although I care for him greatly, the few kisses we shared were nothing more, than what I thought, a slightly stronger gesture of friendship. I felt horrible for what he was going through that night when he was laying on my kitchen table covered in blood. Not just from the whipping he endured, but having to sit idly by as I was forced to play out a stupid love story with Peeta.
I told him I was sorry when I kissed him. I didn't say that I loved him.
I have spent plenty of time thinking of the 'what-ifs' when it comes to Gale. Maybe this particular 'what-if' dream stemmed from our plan to run away before Thread had the chance to hurt either of us. I grieve for the list of possibilities: just the two of us in the woods with plenty of time to see if my feelings for him could develop naturally into something more. Or how Gale could have very easily been my first.
My first, I think. Is that why I had the dream? Those thoughts? My mind trying to change what happened to grant me some normalcy? In the end it didn't work, because Thread tore that dream apart too.
I shut off the hologram and dim the lights while I remain curled up beside the bed. The dream was right to end the way it did. My selfishness would have caught up to us, ending in a disaster. That is why I never allowed myself to feel anything more for Gale; love can blind you from the more important and dangerous things around you. Even the fake love story between Peeta and I made things worse in the long run.
The pain medication must have been stronger than I anticipated, because when I wake up, I am still on the floor with my head on my knees. Not only did I doze off suddenly, I didn't wake up screaming. I try to remember if there were any dreams at all - good or bad. Fortunately, the pain was gone but was replaced by hunger and the need to pee. I shuffle to the bathroom and click the light on and find a small brown paper bag placed next to the sink. I groan at the sight of it and close the door behind me.
- O -
Hunger leads me down the hall to where dinner will be served. I contemplate eating in my room but Peeta and Haymitch will want an explanation and proof I am alright after the sudden visit to the Health Center.
"Oh, there she is!" Effie squeals. I groan and regret my decision the moment I hear her voice as I enter the dining room. Her enthusiasm over my dilemma unfortunately is still in full swing. "How was your visit with Dr. Antyllus? You know, he was one of the doctors who worked with Peeta last year," she says and leans across the dining table, patting Peeta's hand. "He also looked in on you during your recovery. You're lucky he was here early; all of the other physicians are still getting settled. They don't typically see any tributes this soon."
"It was fine," I say, rubbing the inside of my arm. Peeta and Haymitch are already seated, working their way through an entrée of lamb. An Avox sets my portion in front of me as I take my seat. "I don't know what there is to get excited about," I say as I adjust my posture. I'm certainly not excited about the supply of products I found in the bathroom.
"So wait, you're okay? Why would seeing the doctor be exciting?" Peeta looks back and forth from Effie and me. I lower my head and grumble. Peeta leans forward with a muddled look on his face. "Huh? I don't-"
"I started my period, dumbass," I grumble again through my teeth slightly louder. I raise my eyes and give him a deadly look. He sits back suddenly, his expression shifts from shock to apologetic. I shoot back a snarky nod before I look back down at my plate.
The sight of lamb turns my stomach. That's what Thread said he would be enjoying - a very special lamb. Oh, I hope Gale can help my mother and Prim make up the difference.
"Katniss, darling. Like I said before, you've finally become a woman! A bit late...but, well, now you're all grown up!"
"Hey, enough with the girly talk, huh?" Haymitch grumbles. "I'm sure Katniss has had enough for one day." I nod in agreement and pick up my silverware, and reach across to a serving tray full of crispy brussel sprouts, ready to fill my mouth with food to avoid anymore of this discussion.
"Well, alright then. It's a shame you don't see how special of a day it is," Effie pouts, and slinks down into her chair.
"For fucksake, Effie, enough! She isn't some little girl with her whole life ahead of her! She's a goddamned tribute!" Haymitch yells, slamming his drink down on the table with a loud bang.
Effie's jaw drops and it begins to quiver. "I... I'm so sorry Katniss. I was so wrapped up...oh my." She rapidly looks around as if she suddenly forgot something. "I should... I should go," she announces while getting up and hurries out of the room. I look at Haymitch with wide eyes and his face suddenly softens. He then shakes his head, "Aw, jeez kiddo, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"
"No, it's okay," I sputter. "Actually, thank you for that." I laugh at the replay in my head, Effie's wide eyes and gaping mouth, for once with a loss for words. "I have been wanting to tell her the same thing all day." I release a sigh as I pick up my fork once more, "it's just another shitty thing I have to deal with I guess."
"But you're alright?" Peeta asks, setting his utensils down. I nod genuinely this time and turn my attention to the lamb on my plate. I couldn't just leave it – Peeta would worry about my appetite and linger even more tonight. The last time I had anything to eat was on the train, and even then, it wasn't much.
As I cut through the tender meat, it drips with a perfect culinary example of rare. My nose wrinkles at the sight of the blood and juices pooling onto the plate. The thought of Lady getting butchered breaks my heart, but that was for me to feel and not for Peeta to see. I take a breath and put the cut of lamb in my mouth. The flavor mixed with the mint jelly relaxes me immediately and my appetite is finally willing to allow a full meal.
"I will tell you one thing though," I say, mid-chew, "that doctor was a complete prick. You don't remember a fat little guy with green hair do you, Peeta?"
"Dr. Antyllus? Oh yeah, he was only there to change my bandages and check my sutures. He acted like what he was doing was beneath him," he says, reaching under the table, rubbing his leg. I frown at his gesture, saddened at the thought that jerks like Antyllus tended to Peeta. I will never be able to imagine how scared and alone he was. I had only experienced severe malnutrition and dehydration - he lost his fucking leg. "He's probably here early doing the boring stuff like the pre-game physicals," Peeta says bringing his hand back up to his fork and swirls the remaining mint jelly around his plate.
Haymitch gets up from his chair and crosses the room to replenish his drink. "I know it's been a long day, but tomorrow is important. It's going to be your first time meeting all of the past Victors, and though some may seem friendly, it's not going to be all ponies and flowers. Be nice and get along. They don't know you like they know each other, so don't give them any reasons to want to kill you."
I look up at Haymitch while I work through another bite of lamb. "And you, Missy," Haymitch continues, "Keep it simple. I don't want another riot breaking out. Let Peeta do the talking if you have to." He was right to remind me of my lack of skills in obtaining friends and the ability to say the wrong thing. Haymitch raises his glass to his mouth and pauses, "and it would be best to keep your special day to yourself." He smirks and throws back the entire contents of the glass in one swig. He shakes his head and whistles as he admires the empty glass in his hand.
"Gladly," I say as I stab the remaining bits of meat with my fork.
Haymitch sets the glass on the table and heads for the door. "Now, if you will excuse me, I've got a card game to get to." Peeta raises his fingers in a small wave as Haymitch makes his exit. We finish the rest of our meal in silence.
"I've got my notes if you want to go over them tonight," Peeta finally speaks up after taking a sip of water. He leans back in his chair; his closed mouth twists and puckers as his tongue runs over the front of his teeth.
"That's okay, I trust you," I say, sliding my empty plate away. "Haymitch is right; we'll be better off with you doing the talking. I don't feel very sociable, especially after I knocked Antyllus on his ass."
Peeta raises an eyebrow and a slight smile creeps across his mouth, "What?"
I cover my face and groan, "It was so stupid! He gave me a shot." I hold out my arm and point to the injection site.
"So?"
"Medroxa-something, it's a kind of birth control. Can you believe it?" My hands go up in disgust.
Peeta's eyebrows scrunch in confusion, "I don't understand."
"Remember that girl from District 5?" We had studied every Victor for the past twenty years and she was their only Victor in that time period.
"Oh," he manages before dropping his eyes.
I had excused myself from the room that night on the train, before the prologue to the girl's victory. My stomach dropped when I realized which year we were watching and began to shift nervously in my seat on the floor next to Peeta. When he looked over at me, I got up and used the excuse of having to go the bathroom. By the time I made it to the bathroom, I was shaking and my palms were slick with sweat. I flicked the light on and made myself look in the mirror. "Just a part of their games," I repeated my new mantra to myself quietly. I washed my hands and shook them out, trying to rid myself of the tremors.
On the way back, I stopped by the food car to kill some more time; unsure of how long that particular scene lasted. When it had first aired, I was outside studying a list of words for a spelling test. When I returned with two fresh cups of cocoa and some raspberry cookies, Peeta was sitting on the floor next to the video screen, looking down at the tape in his hands. When I asked him how it ended, he just shrugged his shoulders and said it was the girl from 5 that had won.
"That's only part of it. Really, it's meant to - relieve me of any burden having a period may cause during the Games." I say with a low dumb version of my Capitol voice. "What get's me," I clear my throat, "is he wouldn't shut up about the long term benefits. He and Effie need to look at a calendar and see the big red circle around the day that says 'Hunger Games'." I lean forward and set my elbows on the table, resting my forehead in my hands.
"Did you get a shot last year?" Peeta asks.
"Hm?" I look back up at him. "No, it was something about not being sexually ac- mature yet." I hold my breath, hoping he didn't catch my mistake. "I also wasn't old enough." I conclude with the dumb voice. Peeta tilted his head and shifted his jaw, also slightly confused by the doctor's logic. Before he can speak again, I scoot my chair back and push myself up from the table. "I have to try and get some sleep. See you tomorrow at the ceremony?" He gives me a faint smile and nod.
As I make my way to the door, I yell back to the dining room, "You won't have any trouble finding me, I'll be the one making friends with the horses."
- O -
The next morning, I take my place in the center of the room dressed in a simple bathrobe. Flavius, Octavia and Venia clatter about setting up their concoctions and contraptions to prep me for Cinna. My head is groggy from the blue pills, but I am no longer experiencing the dull ache in my center. Better yet, no nightmares.
"Alright, darling, let's see how these last few months have treated you! Venia, get the artillery ready!" Flavius steps in front of me and I drop the robe, creating a white pool of fabric around my feet.
"Oh, honey!" Flavius lets out a gasp and my eyes shoot up to see him staring at my body. Octavia and Venia step behind him and follow his gaze.
"What? What happened?" I cover my breasts self-consciously with my hands. Oh shit, the bruises. Octavia giggles and bumps Flavius with her shoulder and says, "Looks like someone likes it rough! I don't blame you, Sweetie, with the games and all, gotta get it while you can! Am I right?" I feel my face grow hot and return my gaze to the floor.
Octavia starts to use a salve on my skin, which dissolves the bruises almost immediately. "One of my favorite tricks. No one will ever have to know," she says confidently.
Venia starts to whimper, "Oh, it's such a shame! We should be getting you ready to walk down the aisle, not into another arena!" This gets Flavius' lip to tremble and Octavia grabs for tissues. I look up at the ceiling and sigh again, thinking how ridiculous it is to be standing naked in a room full of blubbering idiots. After an hour, I am grateful to finally have my robe back and to be sitting across from Cinna.
"Cinna, may I ask you something?"
"Anything," he says, sitting back in his chair and setting his glass of tea on the table next to him.
"Have you ever been in love?" I sit back, nervously tucking my knees up.
He smiles and replies with a light chuckle, "Why do you ask?"
I bury my face in my knees. "I don't know... this whole thing with me and Peeta. I'm not sure if I am doing it right," I say as I lift my head slightly, peering back at him.
"Once," he says plainly as he crosses his right leg over his left and laces his fingers on top of his knee. "It was back when I was going to art school; I spent time in District 8 learning about the textile industry. There was this girl, Aemilia, a singer at a local cafe I frequented. She was gorgeous and very simple, whereas I was eager to get my hands on every upcoming style. If you think these Capitol people are outrageous, you should have seen me then."
I chuckle and sit up, excited for him to continue.
"Everyday, I would go to see her, yet she didn't seem to see me. I finally worked up the courage to ask her to join me for some coffee after her set, but she turned me down for being Capitol scum. I was devastated. I realized that I loved her for who she was, and she hated me for who I was pretending to be. I wasn't a Capitol hot shot, just a dumb fashion student. The next day, she barely recognized me without the blue wig and studded pants."
I smile at the thought of him dressed as Caesar, wooing a girl.
"I brought her a white lace scarf that my mother had given me. I thanked her for reminding me why I got into fashion in the first place. It wasn't supposed to be about loud colors and meaningless shapes for the sake of awe. It's meant to bring out the inner beauty a person already has."
"Well, did it work?" I ask, leaning forward expectantly.
"It did. Those were the best four months of my life. I've never met anyone like her since," he says, unraveling his fingers and setting his hands on the armrests. He drops his eyes and presses his lips together.
"What happened," I ask quietly.
"Her brother was reaped," he answers, looking at me with a sadness that shatters my heart. "After the Games, she killed herself."
"Oh, I am so sorry, Cinna," I reach over to take his hand.
He shakes his head and waves me off. "No, it's alright. It was ages ago." He pauses and looks back at me. "She hated everything the Capitol stood for and how they made her brother into something he wasn't. And that is why," he stands up and stretches his arms out, "I have vowed to make sure you, stay you." I wipe away a falling tear before I stand up and hug him.
He wraps his arms around me and whispers in my ear, "There will always be a fire inside of you. Don't you ever let anyone extinguish it. And love? Love will only make it burn brighter."
"Thank you," I whisper back and pull away from his embrace, wiping my eyes with both hands. "So, what are we wearing for the opening ceremonies?"
