Figure It Out - Effie and Haymitch

19. Left In the Dark

Left In the Dark

The first thing I feel when I open my eyes is the pain in my back. I blink and raise my head and realize that I must have fallen asleep sitting next to the bed. No wonder my neck hurts.

The pounding behind the door makes me jump. A second later I'm on my feet. The door creaks open and a Peacekeeper enters the cell. I take a step towards him, undecided. "Miss Trinket," he says without hesitation. "Your trial is scheduled for today." He holds out a dress to me. "You have fifteen minutes to get ready."

Nodding, I take the dress and take a critical look at it. It is made of cotton and is completely white, without any decorations or special cuts. Simple, almost inconspicuous. But judging by my body odour, it's slowly but surely time for a change of clothes and I have no other choice anyway. After the Peacekeeper leaves the cell, I try to wash as well as I can with the small sink. Without makeup my face looks bald and pale and I feel exposed. A hysterical sob escapes me. How can you expect me to go public like that? Still before a court to make matters worse?

The dress hangs down on me like a washcloth. You can't even see the hint of my curves and that annoys me deeply. I don't know how to present myself like this. Without a brush, I don't even have the opportunity to tame my tangled hair, which falls in blonde curls over my shoulders. In the end, I just tuck them all the way behind my ear and let them fall down my back, so you don't see them at first glance.

I look in the mirror dejectedly. I'm a joke.

As soon as I step out of the cell, I am ashamed of every step I take. I don't want anyone to see me like this. I hang my head in shame and stare at the ground in front of my feet. The Peacekeepers don't say a word, they silently take me in their midst and lead me through the corridors. This time I'm not bothering to remember where we're walking, it wouldn't make sense because I'll never see that place again anyway.

I long for a bath. I sigh and push the thought away, but when my stomach suddenly kicks in, I can't help it. I always eat at fixed times, after all I always have a strict schedule to follow. That's why I hope that the trial doesn't take too long and that I can go home as soon as possible. I have to visit my parents, tell them I'm fine. I'm sure they've already tried to reach me.

After taking the elevator and walking through another maze of hallways, I think we finally reach the room where my trial will take place. I raise my head as I am silently motioned to enter. The moment I enter the hall, I feel the mood change. I stop moving and stare at the man seated behind a wide table.

He wears a Peacekeeper's uniform, but has a medal around his neck. From a distance I can't identify it more precisely. His eyes meet mine and my throat feels tight. I get chills down my spine. To stabilize myself, I clench my hands into fists and take a deep breath. His eyes are almost black. They exude iron discipline and conciseness. I'm out of place. I shouldn't be standing here. Criminals stand here. I'm not a criminal. I have not done anything wrong or illegal.

"Sit down." It doesn't sound like a request, nor a demand, but more like an order, as if he were speaking to a person below his rank. Like he's talking to an Avox.

I raise my head defiantly and take deliberately slow steps to the small table that is a few meters away in front of him and sit down. I look around for the first time. Something is pressing in my stomach and I get a bad feeling.

Where are the people? I was ashamed to go into public with my appearance. But there is no one to see me, except for an escort of Peacekeepers and a representative of the President. He wears a mandatory uniform, exquisite enough to be part of Snow's inner staff. His hair is combed tightly, and he doesn't look at me, like I'm an insignificant thing, nothing of importance.