Rue's Story

4

"We're almost done dear." One of the members of my prep team soothes me softly."Well that's good." I say with a smile."You're very brave." She comments, taking note on how I haven't complained once. I don't feel the need to tell her that's only because Seeder instructed me not to.When they are finally finished 'remaking me' I realize the grumbling in my stomach suggests I've been in the remake center for a few hours. I want to thank my prep team before they leave, but I can't recall their names, they only said them once, and it was to fast for me to catch.I'm glad they appear to be almost done, because I don't know how much longer I can take looking at these walls. They're completely grey, and the room is full of silver metal. It's all very medical like, and I'm starting to feel claustrophobic.When I first arrived they put me in a scratchy hospital gown, that's very thin. I've been allowing them to do whatever they please for a long time now, and I'm hoping for a change in scenery, preferably to a place with windows.One of the capitol prep team people hands me my clothes from before, the one's I was wearing this morning. They're a light green silky shirt, and a black pair of pants. They are much more comfortable and I take them willingly. Just as I turn to thank them they're gone.I assume they scampered off to retrieve my stylist. They didn't say her name, but I believe she's been styling district 11's tributes for a few years. We aren't normally too exposed, or horrible. Mostly we just look silly. Safe to say the chariot ride isn't where we get the most sponsors.A tiny woman pokes her head into the room. She is dressed completely in Capitol clothing, though her style is unique, with a little bit of subtle suggestion at some emotion; a rare thing for capitol citizens.She has a light green tint to her hair, and she's wearing a green lipstick. Her makeup is very overdone, and she emanates the capitol essence. There's no mistaking her for anyone from the districts."Rue?" She calls in a soft voice."Yes?" I respond, and she comes all the way into the room, closing the door behind her."Oh, you're so darling." She sounds so… sad."Thank you. I'm Rue Olgilby, but I think you knew that before..." I smile at her. She seems so frail. It's impossible to not want to protect her. She's almost smaller than me!"I am your stylist, Savera." She holds out a tiny hand, and I take it, shaking her hand."Nice to meet you." I say with a kind smile."You as well. Now… come." She takes my hand and pulls me behind her to a different room.This room does have a window, as I had hoped, and it has color. The walls are a soft green, with a pattern in blue. There's a wooden table in the center covered in sketches and designs. It's very disorganized, but I know this must be where she works."I'm hungry, are you hungry?" She asks with a giggle."Sure…" I say, confused. There isn't any food within my line of sight, and I don't see anyone bringing it here. Besides there is no place to eat in here-the table is covered in papers.With one sweep of her arm she throws the papers and sketches to the floor, surprising me completely."I'll just clean them later." She says with a shrug.We both sit down, and suddenly she pushes some buttons in the wall, throws me an apologetic smile, and food appears on the table as if by magic. I guess this is why she looked sorry-she knew that this would never happen in 11.It smells delicious, and my stomach grumbles at the scent, but I refuse to give in. Once again, I eat only the rolls from district 11, and pick it apart slowly, dipping it in a gravy that tastes and smells familiar which means it must be from home.Savera doesn't waste time making small talk, she is very to the point, and asks me questions right up front.Between bites she inquires, "What's you're favorite color?"I tell her blue-which is true, I love blue because it's the color of the sky-and then ask why. The designs are supposed to be made entirely by the stylists with no tribute input whatsoever."Because, I have the district 11 costumes designed in all colors, I just couldn't decide. I figured I would leave it up to you." She smiles at me. "If anyone asks we'll say that we chose blue because there's a beautiful blue flower in the fields of 11. Deal?"I giggle a little at her 'secret'. "Of course."We finish our lunch and she works out the final aspects of our chariot costumes. She explains that agriculture is a hard district trade to reflect in clothing. I agree with her, and I'm actually surprised that the end result does look interesting, and it does have a hint of district 11, but for the most part it's just strange.I'm in a pair of denim overalls with small sequins all over the fabric. Then, under the overalls I wear a shirt with puffy sleeves, made of a metallic blue fabric. Savera compliments my color choice say 'it compliments the denim nicely.'On my head she's designed an intricate crown, that appears as though it had been woven out of vines and leaves, though it is made of a tough silver metal. I find myself finding similarities between it and my sister-or Katniss. Beautiful, but tough and strong enough to survive, in the end I think the headpiece is the only part of my costume that I genuinely like.The rest of it is too 'Capitol' for a district 11 girl like me.It makes no difference if I like it. This is going to be about getting sponsors. I have to get sponsors, if I'm going to assist Katniss, and this is my goal now. Help Katniss win; it seems simple enough, though something tells me it won't be.When it's finally time to meet Thresh and his stylist down by our chariot we arrive a little early. There are only a few other districts' tributes here. I take the opportunity to learn. It's amazing how much you can learn by just watching a person. You can get to know them so much faster.The only tributes here now are the ones from 3, 2, and 10. I study the people in the room who appear to be the largest threats.The boy by the name of Cato, from 2, seems menacing, and powerful, but I sense his mind lacks a filter. Just by watching his interactions with his stylist and district partner I can tell he's missing the thing most people posses-the thing that stops certain words or actions before it's too late. He seems to think less and use instinct more, which could be an advantage-or a disadvantage.Then I study his district partner, Clove-wanting to learn as much about the careers as possible. She's not huge, though she's larger than me. I can't see her operating any type of large or heavy weapon, which leaves knives, swords, bows, or the occasional spear. Maces, axes, or any other heavy weapon would overpower her and cause her to lose her balance.I also find that she seems to be the opposite of Cato. It almost looks like she over thinks things too much, and relies on instinct too little. This is also a problem in the arena.Finally my eyes wander to the boy from three. I can't quite recall his name, but he seems to be smart. By now, other tributes are filing in, but I'm still watching this boy from 3. He looks young, but he appears to have some sort of confidence. I find this odd, but he must have some skill to guarantee some safety in the arena.I watch him for a while, searching for a hint of his special talent. I don't find anything, other than his hands, which move in an almost mechanical manner, which isn't surprising. 3's skill is technology.I give up trying to guess at his talent when I can no longer focus. When all the tributes are ready for the parade and we prepare to go, I find myself looking at Katniss to keep calm. I smile, and remember that Thresh is beside me-a little piece of home here in the Capitol.We parade through the streets for twenty minutes waving and smiling, while the crowd cheers wildly for the district 12 tributes. I know they will have sponsors, thanks to their fiery debut.When we reach the city center Prescient Snow gives a few words, and we're whisked away, back to the confines of our living quarters.As soon as we're alone with the mentors, stylists, and escort, we are congratulated. They tell us that we looked amazing, though I hear the grumble, the dissent, which I'm sure the district 12 tributes have brought up in them. They're jealous, I think wryly-because, really, who would be jealous of the fiery clothes designed for those meant to die?I chuckle to myself, and the adults look at me questioningly. I brush off their concerns, and head off to bed.As I lay in bed I find myself thinking about Katniss-and Peeta. I should have known there was something more between them; the hand-holding was actually kind of sweet. There was a touch of rebellion there too, but it's only just noticeable for people like me. The people from the poorest districts of Panem, who have spent lifetimes picking apart the Capitol, and trying to find just the slightest inkling of those who wish to rebel.Katniss and Peeta have given them this hope. I stop short, mid-thought. That's what they have done. This years tributes from 12 have given the people hope. A special kind of hope, that when paired with the right kind of anger, can lead to change-permanent change.I smile as I replay the opening ceremonies in my head. I watched Katniss and Peeta the entire time, utilizing the screens that we were broadcasted on. Katniss and Peeta were on screen nearly the entire time-which worked out in my favor. I could watch them-read them-without being obvious.Over time I have perfected this skill of mine-watching people undetected. Katniss's eyes were uneasy the entire time, and her body-though she tried to look at ease-held a semi-rigid pose during the ride. She didn't seem used to being the center of attention and it showed then.As the ride proceeded she seemed to relax, and she even looked hopeful near the end. Maybe she finally saw how large of a competitor she is. The fire in her eyes turned into a blaze, that quickly overtook the hint of hopeless that used to reside there.I smile at the thought of her giving up-because I know she never will. If she does die in the arena she will go out fighting, as hard as possible, for her sister. She won't go down without a fight, and neither will I. I think we'll make a good team-if she considers me an ally.Then I think about Peeta. He was calm and at ease in the crowd, as if he was born for this. He took it all in with a calm, yet calculating eye-kind of like me. The thing that struck me as odd was how he didn't react in the slightest to everyone cheering "Katniss!" No one cheered for Peeta, and he didn't even get the slightest bit jealous-and I know he can't hide his emotions like Katniss.Peeta looked a little unsteady when I saw Katniss try to let go of his hand. His calm wavered and panic had flashed across his face. He had muttered something to her, and she kept her almost bone crushing hold on his hand. She had almost look relieved to not have to let go.I smile to myself at the thought-they must be friends… goodfriends.Well, this years games may be the most interesting yet.

Im sooooo sorry!!!

Half of these paragraphs didn't publish when I wanted them to, which was like a year ago, so I will now be publishing them every day. Sorry for the confusion