Midnight Azalea-A Story of the 34th Hunger Games

Chapter 8-The Shining Farmers

After such a painful experience, there isn't much pain like that here.

Marcus and Natiel's head stylist Inza dresses us in matching farmer's clothes, except farmers clothes but in the way the Capitol wears it.

I wear a long blue dress. The collar is frilled and over are dark blue overalls that contrast the light blue of the dress. I wear a silver laurel crown and my hair is tied up into a set of braids that culminate in a bun, yet two braids come down from my ears and over my shoulders. Natiel wears almost identical costume, where mine is a dress, his is just a light blue shirt with short sleeves and black overalls, with tattered pants, firm boots, and my same laurel crown.

Inza takes a long look at us, and performs an inspection to correct the wrinkles and small patches on our clothes. "In Tradition, the costumes of the deceased and victorious! Symbolizes hope, and the future of a better Victor."

"These were worn by dead people?" I ask her. I find this creepy. A tribute in my very dress, then a corpse in a jacket. I'm surprised we get any sponsors.

"Through the laurel crown I see hope, and I have the best f luck for you!" Inza proceeds to kissing us on the cheek and exiting.

"Good luck guys, but I've arranged a...trick," whispers Marcus. "That laurel crown stuff is just fuel, but really will it make a fire? You need a spark, something to set you off from the others. This is by tradition! Yet every year they drag two more to wear the same costume! Hence nobody sponsors you!"

"So what is this...trick?" I ask, curious as to why he's pushing it. But then I get it. He takes off our hopeful crowns and gives us roses. "What is this going to do?"

"If you show unity...a bond if you will...then they'll love you! Also...I put glitter in the dresses, so you can press this button and you'll put on a light show!"

"I don't think this is very original," I admit to him. But Marcus hands over Natiel's button and hands me mine.

"Oh you won't see anything like it for a few decades! If nobody copies us!" exclaims Marcus. " now up the Chariots you go!"

I find the black chariot marked with an eleven, and I pet one of our horses. The horse is soft and seems so run down. I then spot a rod in its back, and suddenly I become angry. "How could they do this!"

"Do what?" Marcus asks me, then seeing me point to the rod. "Just a relocator, to keep them steady."

"Isn't that supposed to be controlled by the reins?" I say.

"Just hop on."

I try to get up into the Chariot, at first being difficult but then after help from Natiel I am up standing among the two others that sandwich me in. Ten ahead and Twelve behind.

I see the tributes behind me are almost stark naked with a fine layer of coal dust sprinkled on them. I turn away and see the cowgirl and ranch hand ahead. Soon our horses are clopping and walking. Once we enter the City Circle, the applause is overwhelming.

Thousands stand, throwing roses and bundles of bread and everything in their enormous pockets out to us. We hold up our roses, and the glitter takes effect. We light up, and I feel in the spotlight as my face is up on the screens that are hoisted up on the ceiling and against the rows. Drums play a harsh tune and Panem's anthem blows out from the trumpets and brass instruments that are held by the chorus. We get a satchel with a few coins stuck in our chariot. I grab it, and soon I have to lift my head to see the President who applaudes us and silences us. I end up aside the chariot from district 8. The girl and boy gasp as they notice too they are freaked out of their minds.

"As penance of the fated uprising now thirty four years ago, a girl and boy of their teenage years must come forth every following year to prepare to fight to the death!" Announces the President. "And here we have our tributes who we thank for our entertainment, as well as their sacrifice." Applause. "And to our tributes, Happy Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favor!"

Yes because I'm so happy about sacrificing myself against my will! May the odds never be in my favor!

Once again, we clip along the long road of the City Circle to exit the grand entrance of the Games.

And now comes the day of peace before our harsh training.

"Not much of a first impression," I tell Marcus as we walk to the elevator. "He didn't even look at me!"

"Trust me, he knows you," says Marcus. "Floor Eleven," he tells the peacekeeper by the elevator. He presses the blue 11 button that becomes yellow, and we rise to the Eleventh floor. I walk out, and after seeing the night, we eat a good dinner, discuss tomorrow's training plans, and where to go, and I walk back to my room.

Once I reach my door, Natiel grabs my hand. "What?" I say.

I've never heard his voice, but knowing his masculine look it's very soft and swift, there is not a crack. "Don't try to go impress One and Two. Keep a low profile, because I heard them talking."

"About what?" My heart begins to pound, fear rushing through me at what he might say.

"They want you dead, and they want me as an ally. I'm sorry, but if there's any chance of surviving I have to go with them."

I am shocked to hear him say this. Yes, I am now frightened knowing my prediction was right, but also because he brushes me off like I will die anyways. "I-I...I can't believe you..."

"I'll help you get through the bloodbath, but that's it. Once it's over I won't bother you, unless we're the last two which I doubt."

As he tries to slip away I grab his warm arm and tug. "Why do they want to kill me?"

"I have no idea, but it might be false," he says. "But again I heard it myself, and I don't think they're kidding. To give you advice, join the pair from Three, I mean, if they even survive. But they're smart, they have big brains."

I giggle, which I know is awkward, so I stop. I look him in the eyes. "Brain size doesn't matter."

"I know."

His door shuts in front of me, and the humor is gone. Those are his last words to me. So how am I going to avoid the Careers at training tomorrow? I know to go with Three but they might not make it, and there's no saying what the Arena will be.

That's what I dream about. I dream about a Distirct 11 meadow, violets and tulips around me, the golden horn of axes, knives, maces and swords all packed around it. I go sixty seconds in, and violence surrounds me. I am cornered by the Career pack, and in a painful way the girl from One snatches me and crushes my head, stabbing me and cornering me. They all join in, and Two gets a good stab at my liver. Then I scream, dead. I wake up at three in the morning sharp, and I walk to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, yet I see Cashatra with a bottle of alcohol so I run back, shut the door behind me. I crumple to my knees and sob, tears soaking my face. Soggy and disoriented, I fall back asleep, as I have cried myself there.