My escort is irritated that I slept in, though I can’t see why when the interview is in the evening. Of course, it is because my prep team have to fix me up again.
They start right after breakfast, and inform me I will not be having lunch today in order for them to carry out the preparations. Not surprisingly, the dress is too mature for me again. This time, it is an extremely short, pale blue dress with no sleeves. It is almost too tight for me, and I have to hold my breath while the prep team does up the buttons in the back.
All too soon, the interview time comes. I wish, not for the first time, that the Capitol didn’t mostly do live shows. Then it could be fixed if I mess up.
Fortunately, there is no audience. This relaxes me a little. I am taken into a little sitting room where there is a seat for me and a seat for Caesar Flickerman. There are vases of red, pink and white roses on any table. The smell is too strong, and it fills the room as if someone sprayed perfume in my face.
When I come into the room, Caesar pats my shoulder, clearly I am too young to be considered an equal and given a hug, and I sit down.
“Congratulations, Rue. How are you faring?” he asks.
“Much better,” I say, referring to the fact that I endured several days of youths murdering each other, then I realise that he is talking about the Tracker Jacker incident. The response works either way.
“Great. Let’s get started.”
Someone counts backwards and just like that, we’re being broadcast to the whole country. My mother will be watching, and so will Seeder, though she is watching from across the room rather than on television. Like the whole of District 11 will be.
That thought scares me, so I push it out of my mind.
Caesar starts like he usually does, joking about and things like that. He asks me what happened when I was cut off. I choose my words carefully, trying not to lie without really telling the truth.
“I don’t know where the Tracker Jacker sting came from, but it was only one and small enough that I didn’t hallucinate.” An idea comes to me. Everyone thinks I can’t do anything- if I were killed by the Capitol’s orders, they could easily make it look like an accident. However, if I show them that I’m not the sweet little girl they think I am, they might think twice before trying to get rid of me. “I sort of… lashed out… and…”
“And?” Caesar prompts.
“And I stabbed someone…” The words are new on my tongue. They sound strange in that order, in my voice.
Caesar laughs. “I find that difficult to imagine. This person is alright, I presume?”
I am irritated that he would assume that just because it’s me, but nonetheless he is correct.
“Yeah. I just got them in the shoulder.”
He laughs again. It makes me mad.
“Then I rolled up my sleeve, I don’t remember what my intentions were but I think that my Tracker-drunk mind wanted to be the same as Thresh.”
He doesn’t laugh this time. I think I surprised him. No, I know I did. I can see Seeder shake her head, just the tiniest bit out of the corner of my eye, so I stop there.
“Just kidding,” I say. “They drugged me before I did anything that drastic.”
Caesar gives a sigh of relief and moves on.
“How does it feel to be one of the youngest ever to win the Hunger Games?”
Simple enough question. I could go into detail, but I don’t.
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Rue's Games
FanfictionWhen disaster strikes in the Hunger Games, Rue must fend for herself. Can she win the Games and become a victor? Beyond that, can she aid a rebellion aged only thirteen? This is a fanfiction that I wrote because Rue is my favorite character in the H...
