The Hunger Games Rue's Point Of View

Chapter 8

A knock on my door pulls me awake. I open my eyes, stuck in my most recent nightmare.

"It's time to get up, Rue!" Cenia.

"Oh. Cenia, what time is it?" I ask.

"It's ten. We're going to be preparing for interviews in an hour," she says.

Oh. The interviews. My least favorite part of the Games to watch. Why bother getting to know the tributes if they're just going to die anyway?

I eat a bagel coated in a thick, white spread, and sit on one of the plush couches. Cenia approaches me, waiting patiently for me to finish. I eat the last bite and she's on me.

"All right. I'm on you for your interview approach," she says. Approach? What is that supposed to mean?

She must see the confusion and says: "Your approach. Every tribute has one. Are you going to talk with Ceasar flirty, or brutal, or shy, or any type of personality, really?"

It hasn't cleared up much for me, but I pretend to understand. "Okay. What would you suggest?"

Cenia smiles, and I know she's been working on it for a while. "I would suggest cute! You're a twelve-year-old girl and so much smaller than the rest of the tributes, and you're a big sister! You could pull it off."

We go through several more options. Cute, playful, shy, humble, smart. I end up going shy. It won't be hard for me, in front of all the cameras.

By the end, Cenia's extremely pleased. "Well, that was easier than normal. You're free to go for the rest of the day!" It's only two in the afternoon, so I know I have time to kill. However, I can't find anything much interesting and end up in my room, watching the city below me. It's a peaceful thing to watch, really. I can't imagine having a life this carefree, to do whatever I want.

When night falls, I sleep easily, waking up early to the sun. Around eight my prep team comes to start working on me, to be ready for the interviews. I only have the chance to eat a small roll.

My face is caked with makeup, nails filed and painted, and hair styled. There's a slight blue shimmer in the air that I think they put on my face.

After an hour or so my prep team is done, and Sariah is here to show me my dress. I can only see baby blue fabric, with a similar shimmer to the one floating through the air.

Sariah tells me to close my eyes and lift my arms, and she slides the dress over my arms. A few buttons, a few adjustments.

"You can open your eyes now." I waste no time, observing myself in the mirror. The blue matches my dark skin beautifully, complimenting each other. A shimmer runs down the skirt, a ruffly thing that has layers upon layers.

My jaw nearly drops. "Oh, Sariah, it's beautiful!" I carefully hug her, as not to smudge the makeup, or wrinkle the dress.

She helps me into my shoes, small blue flats that fit perfectly. My prep team gives a sigh, and then they usher me out of my room so Cenia can see.

I give my prep team hugs in turn, leaving Aryn last. She hugs me tight, and gives me a smile. Her blue eyes communicate something more -- love. I smile back, and I realize I recognize those eyes.

Cenia looks pleased, and we have time to spare before the interviews. A relief, for her.

I pull together my courage and do something I would never do in my life, but have to do now.

"Aryn, I think my makeup is a bit off. Maybe some more blue, or a bit more eyeliner?" I suggest. I only know the word eyeliner because I heard her talking with Sariah about it.

She takes me back into the bathroom, opening a bag full of makeup.

"What kind of eyeliner? Black, or -" I cut her off before she has a chance to finish.

"Oh, no, my makeup looks fine," I say. "That's not what this is about."

"What is it, then?" Aryn asks, slightly exasperated. She begins to close the bag.

"Are you Rose's mother?" I ask. She drops the bag, shattering a few bottles.

"Am I . . ." she shakes her head. "Yes, Rue, I am."

Cenia knocks on the door. "Only a few more minutes until we need to leave!"

I panic, realizing I have very limited time.

"Why are you here? Why did you leave?" I ask, the urgency in my voice rising. "What did you do?"

A tear drips down her face. "I said too much. It was before the reaping, my husband was gone for work, and it was my eldest son's first reaping. It was too much for me to handle that night, and I was telling my family that I hate the Capitol, I hate the stupid reaping, that the mayor is horrible. Rose was seven, and she didn't know what was wrong, just that her mother was upset.

"The Peacekeepers came. Maybe I was talking too loud, maybe the houses are bugged. I expected to be whipped, or killed, for my treason against the Capitol. But they didn't. I've been forced to prep the District 11 girls ever since then."

I remember stories of the night. Rose, my neighbor at the time, had come running over to my house. She screamed of her mommy being taken, and when we went over to see, she was gone. Rose stayed with us, her father killed on a work trip. I never questioned why.

I hear screaming from inside our apartment. Cenia's screams --

The door slams open, revealing the white-suited Peacekeepers. They calmly grab Aryn's arms, and drag her away.

"Tell my Rose I love her!"

I fall to my knees, crumpling the dress. Grabbing my head, I hear Cenia come in, and begin asking my questions. It takes me a while to answer them.

"What happened to Aryn?" Cenia asks, stroking my hair.

"She's gone," is all I can choke out. "She's gone forever." 

Sorry, guys! Lots of filler chapters now, but it'll get exciting. Only 2 days left until the Games...