SACRIFICIAL LAMB... h.abernathy

chapter four

BUT TOOK THE POOR MAN'S LAMB, AND DRESSED IT FOR THE MAN THAT WAS COME TO HIM

Halcyon's Midnight curls are held out of their shockingly pink eyes by a pale pink headband. They must be contacts because, last time I saw them, their eyes were a deep brown. They're covered in pink today. It's off-putting. I stare at them instead of the mirror in front of me. At their pink eyelashes and the matching shimmer on their golden brown cheekbones, highlighting their sharpness, the dagger-like quality to their face. At the puffiness of their pale pink dress, the shortness of it around their thighs, the lace and the frills and the pearls all over. It looks too heavy and too light all at once. I imagine them floating away and, then all at once, plummeting back to the ground. They look like a baby doll one of the Northern children would carry everywhere.

Their dyed pink fingers tighten the strap of my golden heels and they grin, stepping away from me. There are pink gems on some of their teeth. They probably cost more than anybody in the South has ever made.

"Ta-da!"

They grab me by the shoulders and spin me around to face the mirror, forcing me to stare at the made up version of myself I don't recognise. Fourteen years ago, I stood in front of a similar mirror, staring at some stupid leather outfit supposed to represent District 10 and I could not fathom this is how I was spending the last moments of my life. Sometimes, I still expect to die.

But, God keeping me alive is my punishment.

My golden dress stops just above my ankles, covered in floral brocade that is slightly rough beneath my fingertips. It reminds me of an old set of curtains that used to hang in my house. I don't know why I tore them down. I break a lot of things without realizing why. They spin me around and tell me to look, so I glance over my shoulder to see the extreme plunging back. The fabric stops just above the curve of my ass.

"What do you think?"

"It's risky."

"It's sexy. You have a great body, you should utilize it more."

I want to tear the skin from my bones. Let my skeleton be paraded in front of the Capitol. Let them take fashion advice from the whiteness of my bones.

Halcyon helps me from the elevated stand and I get my bearings in heels I still struggle to walk in. They are too tall but they are thicker than usual and I find them much easier to walk in than any other shoes they have put me in before.

"I knew you'd like them better." I walk all the way to the door without tripping. It is a feat. "You always struggle with the stilettos, so I thought to go platforms this year and they make your legs look even taller. Bravo." They talk like most Capitolites. High-pitched, drawing out their vowels, hissing their ssss. There is no knife in this room. If there was, I'd cut out their tongue.

Instead, I smile and nod, thanking them for thinking about me.

They lead the way out into the common area of the floor where Vito is already waiting with Dulcinia, his stylist, and Zephyrus. Dulcinia is dressed exactly the same as Halcyon, but with purple instead of pink. Same puffy dress, same dyed fingers, same headband. She blinks and crawling purple eyelashes hit her high cheekbones. Her eyes are wider even than last year. I wonder if it's possible for her to get them stretched – I wouldn't be surprised. Zephyrus has changed into a long-sleeved gown the color of red wine with a slit traveling all the way up to his thigh. The top half of the dress looks almost like a blazer with big buttons in the shape of grapes and his blonde hair has been fashioned into a wine glass. His lips are deep red and when he smiles, it looks almost like blood slashing across his face.