Snowdrop ➳ A Hunger Games Story {Wattys 2019}

Chapter Five ➳ Chariots of Fire

we're burning down the highway skyline
on the back of a hurricane that started turning
when you were young

I sit on a cool metal table while my prep team strips my body of hair. I grit my teeth as Serena, slightly plump woman with blonde hair and a candy-pink outfit, tears the last strip of fabric from my leg. She's the most normal-looking out of the three of them.

I know I should feel self-conscious in front of them with no clothing on, but I can't. They're just so ridiculous. They remind me of the bags of brightly coloured popcorn displayed in the window of Maysilee's sweet shop.

Maysilee. It was only at the last minute that I remembered the peppermints she gave me, and now the bag sits on the cabinet by the table I'm seated on. My reaping dress is neatly folded beside it, but I suspect I won't be allowed to bring that with me. I won't have a need for it anymore. Serena was careful not to crease the material, and she said the colour was lovely.

"Are you all right?" Luna asks, putting down her comb and looking at me in concern. At least I think it's concern; her eyebrows have been tattooed over with stars and I can't really tell what she's thinking.

I nod, smiling sweetly. "Yes, yes. I was just thinking of home." My voice has inexplicably got higher, sounding a little too similar to the Capitol's accent.

Demetrius sighs, clasping a hand to his heart. "Oh, you poor darling! You must be missing your family terribly. But don't worry, you'll feel right at home in the Capitol in no time. At least you'll finally have enough to eat; look at you!" He gestures with a glittery nail to my painfully obvious ribs, and I have to bite back yet another disgusted remark about how we might have enough to eat if the Capitol didn't waste so much.

Serena gasps and taps him lightly on the arm, frowning at him. "Demetrius! It's not her fault!" Perhaps she isn't as bad as I expected.

I simply smile again and say, "Oh, yes. I'll love the food."

Once Luna stops snip-snip-snipping at my hair – to remove split ends, she explains, then gives her own dark blue hair a ruffle – I'm rubbed down with a lotion that soothes my raw body. Then my prep team removes any last hairs with tweezers, and they stand back to admire their work.

"Oh, sweetheart!" cries Luna. "You look lovely! Far better than when you came from District Twelve."

To be fair, she's not wrong. We don't have much time or necessity for daily bathing, and even when we do it's just a quick dip in cold water and soap, if we can afford it. My mother tries her best to boil the water over the fire so we can have a warm bath, but usually by the time it's my turn, it's already cooled. Not that baths really do much, anyway. The adults have long since given up trying to scrub the coal dust from under their nails and out of the lines in their faces, but there's always some hope that the children can stay relatively clean. Even so, if you aren't especially grimy and you don't smell too bad, nobody minds if you go without washing for a day or two.

Our clothes are so dirty and faded that if there was ever any pattern on the fabric, you can' tell anymore, and makeup is a luxury that almost no one can afford. I've only seen a handful of girls from the merchants' area wearing lipstick.

"Let's get Spindle!" exclaims Serena, and they all troop out.

I breathe a sigh of relief. After the quiet, sensible people of District Twelve, these brightly painted ones are a little too much to bear. I wonder what spirits will be like back home. There's usually a couple of days after the reaping where people allow themselves some time to grieve for the tributes. My mother and Kaitlynn will almost certainly be flicking the television on and off to see if the usual static has been replaced by the opening ceremonies broadcast, even though they know that it won't happen until this evening. But is Burnet looking after the girls? Making sure he doesn't fight with Kaitlynn?