The Hunger Games- Prim's Story

Chapter 5

I grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut as Venia, a lady with gold tattoos all over her face and aqua hair rips another piece of fabric from my skin, carrying small hairs along with it. She giggles at my discomfort and says in her high-pitched Capitol accent, "It can't hurt that bad! You barely have any hair on you!" 

It does hurt that bad, but I don't say anything. Maybe if I can get onto their good side, I'll be able to avoid being naked during the tribute parade. "Last one!" She pipes and puts another piece of fabric onto my left leg. I grip the sides of the table and close my eyes. They've done so much to me, I don't feel like myself anymore. They've trimmed my hair, gotten rid of the hair all over my body, scrubbed my body with a gritty soap that made my legs red. They've cleaned and filed my nails into equal shapes. 

I've been in here for close to three hours and I still haven't seen my stylist. From what I've heard of the conversations my prep team has had, he doesn't want to see me until I'm completely ready. "You're doing pretty well for a twelve-year-old. The young ones often scream their heads off!" Flavius says, in what I gather seems to be an encouraging voice. I haven't denied anything they've done to me yet. It hurts and burns and sometimes tears fall, but not one objection. 

They pull me off of the table and I stand while they circle around me, removing any bits of hair that I have left. I feel like a bug under a microscope, wondering what these odd creatures will do to me. But it doesn't feel as bad as I thought, they aren't like people, they're too altered, with weird colored skin and piercings all over their faces. I should be grateful for that, I would've been embarrassed otherwise.

"You look like a person now! Maybe not as Capitol ready as we'd like but still, a person!" Flavius says cheerfully and they all laugh and agree.

I give them my sweetest smile and say, "Thank you for helping me, we don't need to look nice in District Twelve." 

That sets them all off. They wipe nonexistent tears from their eyes and fawn over me. "Of course not, you poor little thing. Imagine, twelve years old and never heard of a nail file? Thank goodness you have us to help you!" Octavia says sympathetically. 

I do know what a nail file is, but I don't correct them. 

"And you'll be beautiful once Cinna is done with you!" Venia's voice reminds me of a snake's hiss. It isn't sneaky or sly, she still has the high-pitched Capitol voice, but she hisses her c's and s's. 

They run excitedly out of the room and I put my robe back on and sit on the table. I'm stuck waiting there for a while. I run my fingers through my hair. My prep team took out the braids my mother so carefully put in. It's only been about three days, but District Twelve feels like a distant memory. Maybe because it is now, I'll never be home again, I'll never see District Twelve again.

The door opens and a man that I can only assume is Cinna walks in. He looks eerily normal, like a person you would see in one of the richer districts. So not normal, but compared to the rest of the Capitol, he is. His skin is its natural shade of brown and the only makeup he seems to have on is some gold eyeliner. He looks so un-Capitol-like that it shocks me. 

"Hello, Primrose. I'm Cinna, your stylist." His voice is normal, not high-pitched and odd, it puts me at ease. 

"You can call me Prim," I say shyly.

"Well Prim, I'm sorry you're here. But Portia and I are going to help you guys as much as we can, okay?" 

"Portia?" I ask. My prep team never mentioned Portia. I hope there isn't anything else to get me Capitol-ready. 

"Peeta's stylist. We're here to help you. Come, let's have a talk." He leads me to a sitting room with a huge glass wall that overlooks the city. It doesn't look any less impressive, even if clouds have overtaken the sun. There are two bright red couches facing each other. I sit on one and he sits facing me. 

"You want to do the honors?" He asks kindly, pointing to a button on the side of the table. I nod and press it. The top of the table opens and another rises up, containing platters of food. Chicken and oranges in a creamy sauce, rolls shaped like roses, pudding the same color as honey among other unidentifiable foods. It's so much more than we would ever have at home. We wouldn't even be able to bake the rose rolls, our tesserae grain makes flat, hard bread. 

Cinna notices my awed face and chuckles. "It's disgusting, really. All this at a press of a button. Now-"

I cut him off. I have to ask. "Are you new? I haven't seen you before."

He replies calmly, "Yes, it's my first Games."

The pieces are all coming together. Newcomers are given the worst districts. That's probably why he wants to make a good first impression on the Capitol citizens. "So you got Twelve?"

"Yes I did, but just because you're from District Twelve doesn't mean you shouldn't have the same chance as anyone else, right?" I nod, surprised. We don't go back to that topic. "So Portia and I are thinking about your district. Coal mining. No one will remember you in some coal miner getup." He tells me.

"But it won't be..." I trail off. Last year's tributes we naked and covered in coal dust. Needless to say, they didn't win any sponsors.

"Oh no, nothing like that," Cinna reassures me. "We're thinking complementary costumes. Haymitch told us about your little sister-big brother dynamic. We could do something with that." 

"So what are you going to do to us?" 

"What do you do to the coal? After mining it?" 

"We burn it?" I say uncertainly. What is he going to do to us? 

"Exactly. You don't happen to be afraid of fire?" He asks, with a glint in his eye.