A Strange Sense of Deja Vu: The 76th Hunger Games

Chapter 4

I wake up early in the morning, when the sun is just barely starting to rise. Karma hasn't moved at all since I last saw her, except to breathe and talk in her sleep. "Thank you." She says, over and over, still.

I turn over to face her, then prop my arm up on one shoulder. An idea crosses my mind. I reach out my finger and tickle under her neck. A giggle escapes her lips, one that she's completely unaware of.

The sound, now fresh in my brain, plays over and over. Then, Karma stirs again and wakes up, not noticing me.

"Have a good sleep?" I ask. She jumps, making me laugh.

"How long have you been awake?" She asks.

"Oh, not long." I lie. "Just long enough to see the sunrise."

"Oh. Hey, stand up." She says. I stand. She puts her fist up to her mouth "So, Casey." She says in a deep voice. "Tell us about your life in District Twelve."

"Um… I don't know… I just live?" I say.

"No, no, no." She says. "Try and make yourself more… Capitol like and such."

"Got it." I say. "Well, for starters, we don't have that great food!" I pat my belly and give a thumbs-up.

"Oh! Have you tried the sticky buns yet? Those are my absolute favorite!" She says.

"Oh, yes." I lie. "But my favorite would have to be the pizza."

"Wonderful taste!" She yells. We practice the interviews in my room for a few hours, joking and exaggerating things every once in a while. Then Effie comes and tells me that my prep team is here.

"Bye Casey!" Karma says. "Have fun!"

"You too. I bet your prep team's not as annoying as mine." I say.

"Want to bet? My hair is just starting to grow on my legs." She says, pulling up the leg on one of her pants. "You are so lucky. Waxing is just- ugh- horrible." Sure enough, her legs are still slightly red and almost hairless.

"Oh. I take that back then. Good luck. See you at the interviews." I say. She waves and opens my door, then runs into my prep team.

"Whoa… sorry." She says. I can hear her snickering as she walks down the hall to her room.

"Casey!" One of them says. I wonder what their names are.

"Are you ready?" Another asks. I nod, showing no hint of how not ready I am. "Great!"

After they do all the embarrassing things again- which I don't want to say, again- they grab another massive bag. They unzip it and hand me a suit. It's very formal and the material is silky. The pants are black, and so is the jacket, but the shirt, bowtie and gloves are white. The jacket is more like a vest, but long sleeved.

"Won't I get hot?" I ask.

"Oh, it's going to be cool today." Another says. Amazingly, that's the smartest thing I've ever heard any of them say. I put on the costume, and they help me with the bowtie. Then, they grab a pair of scissors.

"Whoa, what are you doing with those." I say, backing away.

"We're just going to do some minor adjustments to your hair. Nothing too big." One of them says. I don't feel comfortable with them putting scissors anywhere near my neck or face. "We're experts… done this a million times before."

"Fine." I say. They sit me down in the chair and I watch as parts of my hair fall to the ground. When they're done, they spin my chair around so I can see myself in the mirror. My hair is cut just above my eyes, flopping down. I flip it out of my eyes so I can see, and they scream.