Maybe Foxface Is The Real Opponent Here~

3-If

Everything I know about the Capitol springs to life. The Capitol is the ruling government of Panem. Capitol residents drink a special liquid that causes them to vomit, thus providing enough room for more food. The Capitol does not have to offer children for the Hunger Games. Some citizens are sponsors to the tributes, paying for packages of supplies that are then delivered to them in the arena. A bustling city full of people with body modifications and colorful clothing stands before me. And I thought Effie Trinket looked odd. People are walking past the train with multi-coloured skin for heaven's sake,  and I swear I just saw a man with whiskers.

Lots of Capitol men, woman and children crowd around the train, as far as the Peacekeepers allow. I smile at them, hardly genuine, but they don't notice.

As we are led off the train, I notice every Capitol citzen is cheering. Not one single person thinks it's wrong to send children to their deaths. And I can't help but judge. We are treated like celebrities rather than victims.

**

After at least three hours, I was tired and felt stripped. I had been scrubbed, waxed, plucked, trimmed and all sorts. I tried my very best not to object, even when one of my stylists, Zera, had asked what shape I would like my nails? I'm sorry, what shape?! And then there is the soap that not only removes dirt but also a large proportion of my skin. It still feels sore, hurting and extremely vulnerable. My three stylist take a step or two back, happy with what they've done with me.

'Gorgeous, darling!' Says Zera, clasping her hands in triumph.

'You look good enough to eat!' Says another, admiring me. And good enough to kill. I think. I don't say anything, just smile. I mean, how do you reply to that?

'I'll be so proud if you get any sponsors!' The other splutters, wounding me a little. If. Zera tries to cover up their mistake with 'I know I certainly will!'

After a grooming session which dragged, I am told to stay put, and to remove the robe I had on. I should be nervous by this, but I know there's no point disobeying. I look around the room which is almost as stripped as me. It's a pasty shade of white and all that stands in it is the table i'm sitting on and a bleached desk holding styling equiptment. I wonder what I look like. I've never had anyone to dress me up or make me look pretty. It's times like this that I miss my mother. My father I wouldn't trust with a pen, never mind an eyeliner. My father. I left the silky white dress he had agreed to buy me with one of my stylists. I miss it's simplicity.

Interrupting my thoughts, the door opens and a woman comes in. 'Hi Finch, how are you? She says in a posh Capitol accent. I open my mouth to speak, but I am cut off by her. 'My name is Libbrea, Libby for short. If you want that robe I'll be done in a minute.' She stated, as I notice she is circling my naked body like a vulture. She makes a few 'Hmm's and clicks her tongue in boredom. 'Okay, well I've had a chat with Zera and we've decided on an idea. For the opening ceremonies, you’re to wear something that implies your district’s industry. For example, District 4, fishing. Since you come from 5, power is the theme. We've gone for exactly that.'

A few hours later I am literally shining. Not with beauty, exactly, but shining none-the-less. I am wearing a circular headpeice that is silver, shiny and sequin-like, along with a sleeveless matching gown. I thank Libby. 'You're welcome honey.' She says dreamily.

We’re soon swiftly taken down to the Remake Center. The opening ceremonies are about to start. The pairs of tributes are being loaded into chariots pulled by teams of four horses. Ours are grey and speckled. Abruptly, the opening music begins. It’s distinct, the anthem of Panem, and almost defening as it blares throughout the stadium. I wave nervously as we prepare to be escorted into the Training Center. Cheers come from left and right.

The president, an old, stumpy with pasty-white hair gives the official welcome from a balcony above us. When the national anthem plays, they make a quick effort to do a cut around to each pair of tributes, but the camera holds on the District 12 chariot as it parades around the circle one final time and disappears into the Training Center. I can't help but admire the girl on fire, who I vaguely recognise as Katniss.

The doors have only just shut from behind as my prep time tends to what I'm wearing. As I glance around, I notice lots of the other tributes are horridly glaring at the District 12 tributes. I gaze fondly at them. I know they've stolen the limelight. Then Zera and Libby appear, helping us down from the chariot. 

**