The Hunger Games (Writing Contest) [CLOSED]

Cassia Everton-Interview

I smooth the dress, from my waist to my hips. It's a rose dress, the cutoff in the front at my mid-thigh and the back trails three feet behind. My hair cascades down my back in ringlets. The lipgloss is heavy on my lips, the eyemakeup thick on my eyelids. The boy from District One is sitting there, laughing and smiling on the chair that in thirty seconds I will be sitting on. I can see the timer above the entryway onto the stage. I take a deep breath as the buzzer rings.

It's time.

As the boy comes off the stage, I distinctly hear Caesar Flickerman introducing me. All I am focusing on, however, are Eleanor's final words to me:

"Watch your mouth, Cassia. This is your first impression on a country, better make it count. Now good luck."

I squeeze my eyes shut, walking forward. I open one eye to find Caesar, smiling at me. I open the other as Caesar grabs my hand, spinning me and showing me off to the world. He holds my hand high as I smile the best I can, trying not to squint into the bright lights. After the applause dies down a little (thanks to the help of Caesar), we both sit onto our chairs. Caesar turns a little, smiling at me.

"So, Cassia, how are you this evening?" he smiles, his teeth so white that they look as though he brushed them three seconds ago.

"I'm great, Caesar. A little scared, but I'm alright."

The audience laughs along with Caesar. I guess it was the tone of my voice.

"So, Cassia, what's home like?"

I close my eyes and envision District Two. The mountains, the Nut, everything. I open my eyes to find a waiting Caesar, although I was expecting my mother.

"It's always pretty chilly," I say. "Especially in the winter. It's not like any other District, where the border is a chain-link fence. That's easy to get across, if you're not counting the censors and the Peacekeepers and the security cameras. No, in District Two it's like there's one way out: The Hunger Games. And there isn't even that much security around the mountains, because even if someone were to scale them, they would die of exposure." Caesar nods along with my words, and with him it's like talking to Hanna: you're comfortable, but you have to watch what you say. You always have to watch what you say in Panem.

"That sounds nice," he says. "And you're right; in other Districts there are more security features, more barriers and more Peacekeepers. It's interesting to hear that the only security in Two are the mountains."

"Well, there's a lot of security in the mines," I say. "Because anything could happen there. The Nut goes down, we all go down. "

"Right, right. Well, do you miss Two?"

I nod, pursing my lips. "Yeah, I do. I miss my mother and father, most of all, because I never had any siblings. The girl I volunteered for was just a friend's younger sister. I miss those girls too, Tristen and Hanna. They were easy to talk to, kinda like this. I honestly thought this would be hard, but it's proven to be surprisingly easy."

"Right, right," he mutters, looking at his hands. I notice there is writing in small cursive. Of course he doesn't make these questions up on the spot! He has a script.

"Did you leave anyone behind that meant a lot to you? Any friends, family, a pet?"

"Like I said before, I left behind my parents, Hanna and Tristen. There were a couple girls I talked on and off to at school, but I wasn't much of a talker. This is honestly one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, and I already said this is easy. But I'm trying not to focus on the fact that an entire country is currently watching me."

Caesar nods, smiling. I notice that he has two different eye colors: left blue and right brown. I can't dwell on it too much as he's asking me the next question.

"Is there anyone else that's been in the Games in your family? I recognize the name Everton."

"My uncle," I reply, thinking of the picture on our mantel at home. "He volunteered for my father, coming in second place. My father often reminds me of the hope he had that maybe, just maybe, his brother would return home, safe and sound. But he never did."

"But he never did," Caesar repeats, looking deep into my eyes. Almost over, almost over. "Finally, are you ready for the Games to begin?"

I nod, saying, "I think I am. I mean, my eleven had to have meant something, right? I mean, they don't just hand those things out, you know? I mean, there's one girl who got a twelve, which is scary, but other than that I'm golden."

The buzzer rings as I say "golden". Caesar takes my hand, standing with me. "Cassia Everton, everybody!"

There's loud cheering, but I can tell that I made a better impression with my eleven. I know that I have little sponsors, if any. I know that I am not a big contender in the Games, but I at least have a chance.