The Hunger Games: Mashup

Chapter Twenty Two

 District 7

“Hello, Father,” said Shinku calmly, curtsying gracefully to her father. The man was wrinkled and had a cruel smile. He liked to torture people and mess with their heads. Even by Capitol Standards, he might have been the most twisted man in history—even compared to President Phantom, the man who first founded the Games. He had a heart shaped watch in his possession and glasses that flashed evilly in the dark. He was the real monster of the town. Yet, he was easily bored and distracted. He never liked things to be slow. He made trouble that would cause fast-acting results—that way he would always have something to watch. He was very well known up in the Capitol, because he enjoyed the Games as much as the Capitol people. However, he did have a soft spot. His creation, Shinku. He had made the doll from magical clay, morphing her porcelain skin into something lifelike and human. She was alive, at least by regular standards. Her heart beat with unknown forces and she was as refined as a princess. Today, for the first and last Reaping she would likely see, Shinku was dressed in a pink dress, the fabric clenched and bunched in areas so that it looked like it was curled around her in many layers. Real pink roses dotted the hems of the dress, giving her the impression that she was wearing a dress made out of rose petals. Her father had brushed her hair and put it up in her traditional pig tails, hoping that she would somehow survive this year's Reaping. The Capitol had forced him to finally put his creation in the Games. It was actually Mr. Tiny's hated rival, Dr. Frankenstein, who thought it would be intriguing to put a doll into the Games. It was an experiment of his, and Mr. Tiny was forced to comply or lose his privileges as mayor of District 7.

“You look beautiful,” said Mr. Tiny solemnly, sitting in his chair quietly. Shinku jumped onto his lap, her tiny body only reaching up to the top of his head. She touched his cheek gently and he looked up at her, his tears of blood staining her porcelain skin.

“Do not cry for me, Father. It was bound to happen eventually,” she said to him kindly. He took in a shuddering breath. She gave him a small smile.

“I only wish others knew how kind you have been to me. I have never known anyone to be as kind as you,” she said to him. He looked back up at her with sad eyes, but fury lurking beneath their blood red pupils.

“Are you honestly planning on going through with this?” he demanded of her. She nodded, withdrawing her touch.

“I am, Father,” she said to him. She kissed his cheek farewell and then turned to walk to the Reaping. Even Mr. Tiny saw it this time—that loneliness that made the doll beautifully tragic.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“District 7's male tribute for this year is...” began Kasane Toudou, the announcer. Her hair was brilliant blue and she bounced on the balls of her feet in excitement. Shinku stood in her place in line, quietly observing. She saw Steve near the back, staring up at the stage with uncertainty. She saw his brow furrow, his eyes narrow, and his arms cross. His muscles flexed from the tension, and his red eyes flashed in the sunlight. She felt a feeling rise in her tiny chest, one with such intensity that it threatened to break her fragile shell of a body.

“Steve...” she whispered to herself. She looked around for her other big brother, Darren. She found no one. Maybe he had been delayed too long in the woods? Maybe he got lost trying to get his way back? Perhaps he had been attacked and now lay on the floor of the forest, slowly bleeding to death. Shinku bit back the worry. Now was not the time to think about Darren. The Reaping had begun, and it was almost inevitable that one of her brothers would be chosen...then again, why hadn't Darren shown up?

Maybe he ran, said a frightened little voice in her head. Darren knows he or Steve will be chosen for the Games at one point or another. It's very possible that he ran away from it.