A Story Of Nightlock.

Part 3 - Interviews

                                                             CHAPTER 2 - INTERVIEWS.

My stylist, Octavius, says that in order to gain generous sponsors he will do his best to make me look perfect. He says that my flaming red hair would look 'fabulous' in an updo.

Says he, who looks quite good in anything, even if it is the regular spotted trousers and orange shirt.

My mentor Aelius explains that he would like my appearance on television to be that of a  mysterious and elusive girl, as he doesn't want me to give any of my tactics for the games away.  I  think about his words, and what would be wise to say as Octavius zips up my dress from behind.

The dress I'm wearing to impress Caesar Flickerman and his Capitol audience is a very beautiful dress, like nothing we've ever worn in District 5. The fabric is a silky blue, and flows down to my knee caps.  A little blue bow is postitioned above the chest, sort of adding to the beautiful flowing frills that wave down to the bottom of my hips. The light blue colour definately brings out my blue eyes and stratigically allows my red hair stand out, which is twisted into an elegant bun. 

 Too bad it I can't wear it again after tonight.

Two Avoxes guide me to the enterance of the waiting hall; a narrow hallway in which the tributes stand in line waiting for their interviews. All of a sudden my surroundings change; this hallway is very narrow, built in with red velvet carpets and white washed walls. The prep room smelled of clean, and was very big and a grey/blue colour coated the walls. Here I smell fear, determination and anxiety.

I push away the thoughts, starting to feel restless as I stand in line. This is different than the opening ceremony of the Games, back then we had to wear stupid glittering costumes for the Capitol, representing a power plant. I can laugh at that now, at how stupid Octavius made Eric and I look. Now is the time to act superior and determined, to spend time with my host Caesar Flickerman, as he basically sizes up each tribute for the Capitol audience to bet on.

Eric, my district partner, is wearing a black suit with midnight blue shirt sleeves rolled fashionably underneath. I was worried about Eric, I didn't know much about his strategy, but I know that he's most likely be killed by one of the Careers. Not that I care, though. He's not my priority at the moment.

Finally, after all the tributes are lined up, Glimmer, the girl from District 1, makes her way onto stage wearing a short pink dress. Too easy, she's definately going to get sponsors, the same as all of the Careers.

I don't really understand what drives the Capitol crazy when it comes to the Careers. They're killling machines, and almost everyone is afraid of them. I wonder what sort of a Hunger Games it would be if all of the districts rounded up twenty four Capitol citizens and made them run around in their new blouses and skirts carrying daggers in their newly painted nails that are probably 'the next big trend.' Seriously, each tribute from the Capitol would be too worried about breaking one of those precious nails or sitting on dirt in stead of killing each other.

 Before I know it, the tributes from Districts 1,2, 3 and 4 have gone up on stage, and an Avox is giving me a hand up to the stage. I take it, feeling bad, because this Avox would have been pretty if not the red lipstick, eyeliner, and clothes she was forced to wear. Plus the fact that her life was ruined because in some way, she has defied the Capitol and as punishment her tongue has been cut out and she is forced to work as a slave for eternity.

Caesar Flickerman announces my name to his audience and I walk onto stage, feeling nervous and a little confident. I hear a small collective gasp from the audience, and pray that they like me.

"From District Five!"  Caesar Flickerman cries, raising his navy blue eye-brows. His hair is the same colour, navy blue pulled up into a short pony-tail.

"Hello, Caesar," I say, trying to stay confident, yet every nerve in my body is screaming for me to run away.

"Sit down, sit down! So, Finch, do you have a strategy for the Games yet?"

I pause not wanting to give away any of my strategy to the few remaining tributes who are watching me in the hallway.

 "Well," I start, crossing my legs and showing off my outrageous blue platforms.

I will always analize the situation and apply myself," I take a pause, wanting a little suspension for the crowd.

"And will be able to figure out the situation current." This response concludes to a few grins and note taking from the audience.

"Well that is a welcome strategy that will hopefully get you far into the games.  So tell me," Caesar leans closer.

"Do you have any weapon of choice? Any sort of plan for food? Are you a hunter, a gatherer?"

I face the audience, seeing wicked flames of orange, purple and green hair, also slightly tinted skin from someone in the crowd.

"I don't think much of weapon choice, but if I had the chance, I would try to snag a knife or a spear for myself, whether for food or protection. I personally don't hunt much, we never really had the chance  in our District, so I guess I'm more of a gatherer."

Caesar seems pleased by my answer, and beams at me.

"Well, soon enough, Finch, you will have the chance to 'snag' a weapon of your choice at the Cornucopia! Are you excited, prepared for the Games?"

I pause, trying to let this settle in my stomach. This was a tough question, and I didn't want to seem unreasonably weak.

"I am prepared, Caesar. I'm prepared to give the Games all I've got, and to hopefully succeed in my plans."

Caesar now stands up, indicating that my interview is over. He holds, my hand, waiting to pull it up.

"Give it up, for District Five's Finch!"

I smile, showing off my perfect teeth to the crowd. I'm not happy, just trying to make a good impression.

"Thank you, it was lovely having you. Thank you so much for being here." Caesar whispers into my ear as I walk off stage.

I exit from the stage in a seperate hallway from the newly made tribute from District 6. I don't want to watch Eric on screen, even if it means more of a possibility of  knowing his strategy. If I see him on stage, I'll worry about him, more than myself. And when you begin to do that during the games, it almost means certain death.

 After I reach my appartment once more, I make my way towards the room that I'm staying in, for a possible hour of sleep before tomorrow, possibly my second last day on this Earth.

                                                                         *****

Hello Readers, ( If there are any) The next part to this story will be released sometime next week. Please comment your thoughts, opinions and anything that could be revised. Thank you :)