Exemplary

Chapter One: Privileges

The air was polluted with the sweet, heavy fragrances that flowed from the skins of the Capitol's people as their laughs, obnoxious voices and hushed gossips filled the air. The sound of spoons and forks clanking onto porcelain plates chimed in with the upbeat music that hummed in the background, adding to the already elated moods of the Capitol's citizens. 

My index finger and thumb twisted around each other causing my fork to wind up the cooling pasta that sat before me on the elaborate dinner table that my family, 'friends' and of course myself sat at. It was beautifully decorated with a vibrant pink table runner and large, lab grown hibiscus flowers that blocked my view of the person that sat across from me. It's utensils were also a vibrant, loud color - electric yellow silverware and lime green plates. It truly was beautiful, in every sarcastic sense of the word. I pulled the fork up, watching the steam from the folds of the white pasta escape before slowly and carefully lowering my hand back down, the pasta curling onto itself before I repeated the motion. 

It was the day of the reaping for the 115th Hunger Games in all thirteen districts. The first twelve districts had already reported who their tributes would be and have already began prepping to send them to the Capitol with their escort to meet their stylist crew and those that would claim their lives just a few days after. 

The Graphite and Nuclear district, or district thirteen, was the last that we were now waiting upon. It was to be expected, considering the history of the district. It only began participating in the Hunger Games during the eightieth year of it's existence, after seventy-nine years of rebellion and a failed Panem wide revolution. 

Admittedly, we don't learn much about it in school other than the revolution completely failed and that it should prove to be a lesson for all of us, but more importantly the thirteen districts. We learn about the key criminals that originated there and the ones that later joined it's forces. Names like Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark and President Alma Coin have been thrown around along with the words 'traitor' and 'savages.' We have been taught that what er learn in school is more than enough to believe in the necessity of the Capitol. It's also emphasized that any further questioning or curiosity about the revolution and it's participants is strongly looked down upon, and any 'well behaved Capitol children would stay away from any beliefs that faintly resonate those of the Rebellion.'

Maybe it was my curiosity getting the best of me, but I always wondered what type of district thirteenth must be. If it was able to survive seventy years on it's own without any aid from the Capitol or any other district, why on earth would they agree to reunite with the Capitol after a revolution that only lasted a few mere months, which ended to a surrender on the part of the Rebellion. 

I physically shrug to my own question as I allow the pasta to fall back onto my plate once again, before raising my grayish eyes up only to lock eyes onto those of my extended family and 'friends'. 

"What?" I asked clueless of what has been discussed the last few moments, locking onto a set of vibrant green eyes before shifting to another.

"Chriselda," My mother, who sat directly to my left, reprimanded in an accent that was as fake as the aqua wig that sat on her head. She mouthed a few words to me before nodding over to my great grandmother, who's green eyes have been trained on me ever since thislovely dinner began. "Answer your grandmother's question, sweetheart. How are things going at school?" 

I watched my mother's dyed aqua eyebrows raise a few times as I allowed moments to pass before finally looking over to my great grandmother, the only granddaughter of President Coriolanus Snow. 

Surprisingly, she and myself were the only two seated at the table who failed to wear an extravagant wig and makeup to match. Her gray braid hung to one side of her cheek, curling at the end into a single, perfect swirl. Her face was littered with light but well hidden winkles that took nothing away from her beauty. Her emerald eyes were once full of luster but now are just lifeless green orbs that examined and judged everything closely and mercilessly. 

"It's fine," I finally answer in a voice that barely competes against the music and chatter that surrounds me, "I'm still having problems understanding why I need to know the basics of Calculus, though. I'd much rather learn about something more prevalent, like our history or any of the sciences." This comment brings on a chain of laughter of the people seated at the table. I give off a small smile to those who acknowledge my dry sense of humor, not because I'm appreciative of the compliments, but because they truly believe that I'm kidding. 

My grandmother's face remained stoic, not moving a single muscle as she kept her keen but aged eyes locked onto my own. She cleared her throat as she eyed me for a little while longer, her green eyes burning into my gray ones. It was uncomfortable to say the least. 

"How old are you now, Chriselda?" A voice called from the other side of the table, who's face was concealed by the large arrangement of flowers that sat before me. I leaned over to the right and locked eyes with one of my mother's long time friends. His name was Harper Starr, or something close to that. People in the Capitol rarely remain with their true identities. With the knowledge I had concerning him, he is the only person that my mother knows from childhood that she's still in touch with. Why she chose him to be her only gateway to the past is beyond me. 

"I will be turning seventeen next month if the Capitol deems it sound to do so."

Another round of chuckles grows around the table. "She is so curt." "She must get it from her father." "Oh no, I'm sure that is something she's developed all on her own." 

"Oh, almost your age, Michael." Harper chuckled to his son who sat silently on his right. Her identical green eyes locked onto my gray ones before flashing somewhere else and focusing on something that probably wasn't even there.

I managed to keep back the scoff that climbed it way up by throat by shoving a mouthful of now cold pasta before chewing it softly and allowing it to travel down towards my belly. I sat back in my chair, finally tuning into the music that has surrounded me for most of the day before finally zoning out as my mother brought up the accomplishments of my two older brothers, who now have become Peacekeeper officials in district two. 

I allow myself to zone out so much that I miss the announcement of who the volunteers from district thirteen were and the excitement of being able to greet and meet with them tomorrow at the chariot rides and after the interview with Cesar - "privileges of the Elite" my mother reminded me as we were leaving the massive dining hall.

I fail to hold back the sigh that escaped my lips, earning another reprimand from my mother. Her scolding words fly passed me though, because all I can seem to concentrate on is how desperately she needs to clear her face of the atrocity she calls make up.