Mockingjay's Daughter (Hunger Games Fanfiction)

Chapter 47: Escape. Part 2

Willows P.O.V

The prep room.

I recognise this place all too well from when I was last here. The pristine white walls and shimmering makeup counters with numerous types of makeup scattered across the room. The only difference is that the women awaiting me to apply my makeup and style me is someone I don't recognise. Her permed lime green hair illuminated the room even more that it already was.

I hope she doesn't style my hair like this...

I wonder how long it's been since I was last here to do the interview with Caesar Flickerman. It may feel like yesterday since I was last here, but it also, at the same time feels as if it's been years.

"I'll be outside the room where you'll be getting broadcasted." Grunted Byron placing me off his shoulder. I nod as if he's said nothing to not raise suspicion, whilst trying to stand without falling. "G'luck." He lets out even more silent than before.

The lime haired women raises a matching eyebrow, folding her bony arms. "What on earth?" She hisses in the Capitols annoying accent. She already reminds me of a serpent. "Why were you carrying her," She pauses, pointing a scaled nail at me. "Who gave you permission?"

Despite Byron being a few steps away from me, I could feel his body stiffen. Lost for words.

"I couldn't walk!" I let out, truthfully. "I refused. I'm still...finding my new leg hard to walk on."

"Hold your tongue girl! I never asked you!" Her eyes were piercing us like daggers, she seems pure evil.

"...I made sure she got what she deserved Ma'am, don't worry about that." Byron lisps, attempting to mimic the Capitol accent.

She nods at this, "-and your address id, guard..?"

After a pause, he replies. "457609 Mayfair...James, Ma'am." God, this is so intense. Right now, I feel like my cell would be a better place to be at.

"Hmm. Very well." She sighs, sounding unconvinced. "Come, child."

Byron immediately takes this as his que to leave and without leaving it to guess, he rushes out of the room. The lime haired women starts laying out a bunch of products onto the counter which I don't recognise, whilst I struggle to get to the polished white chair. As I swivel the chair to view my reflection, I get taken aback.

I don't recognise this stranger staring at me.

My face, once remarked by some people as 'pretty' would now be viewed as anything but. I look ugly. My bones look so gaunt, so condensed and sharp, contrasting with my bulging blue eyes looking dim and lifeless. My skin also looks weird. It's paste white; as if I haven't had a ray on sun hit me ever, as well as having a tinge of yellow to it. I then draw my attention to my hair. Once a glowing light blonde with bouncing curls reaching my ribs, it was now polar opposite. It had faded to a dirty, faded plain blonde, looking thin, greasy and crackled...completely untreatable.

No amount of cover up can fix the way I look.

The lime haired women rolls her eyes at my disgusting appearance, thinking the same as me. She then proceeds to swivel the chair I'm sitting on back into her view.

She is admittedly quick at applying makeup.

She cakes my face in foundation and powder, then moves onto highlighting and smokey eyes as well as other stuff. After, she studies my face then silently leaves the room. Twisting the chair once more, I view my made up appearance. The only thing left unchanged is my naturally thick eyebrows, which the Capitol people especially seem to like. Honestly, I look slightly better, my skin looks a normal colour at least...but still awful.