The 65th Hunger Games - EDITING

Chapter four

Inside, I meet my prep team, three extravagant Capitol's citizens that apparently have never seen such a beautiful natural face. They keep talking about how excited they are to perform all kinds of different alterations to make it look prettier. Of course, if I don't survive, they never will be able to do such a thing. Right now, death looks like a considerable option, I don't want to look like them, that would mean I belong to them. After a while, I just stop listening to their nonsense and let them rearrange my hair, apply some makeup and cover all the scars on my body. Apparently, scars are a bad thing here, it's considered ugly. Back at home, it means that you were hurt and that you survived, it means you're a fighter.
After what seems to be an eternity, they finally release me. A peacekeeper escorts me to another room where I meet my stylist. It's a young woman, probably around thirty, but she could be way older. There's no way to know, everyone here seems to have modified most of their bodies to match with the current fashion or desperately trying to look younger than they actually are. She has a high pitch voice and a snooty accent which doesn't surprise me. Just like my prep team, she doesn't seem to know how to be silent. The only thing I try to remember is her name, Ateia, and the fact that it's her first year as a stylist. She makes me follow her into a different room and ask me to remove all my clothes. I would usually feel uncomfortable, but my prep team has already destroyed any sense of dignity I had left. I remove the robe the Capitol gave me and I stand in front of her.
"They did a good job with you, you look healthy."
I don't thank her, I don't want to. She says something about my manners, but I don't listen. She keeps turning around me, memorizing every inch of my body.
"Come with me, we will discuss your costume over a nice meal."
I would like to refuse just because I don't want anything from them, but I'm too hungry. I put my robe back on and follow her trough a door. The next room is probably almost as big as my friend's house. Everything in the room is white, except for the two deep blue couches facing each other, a small table sitting in between. Three of the walls are blank and the fourth wall is made of a window that lets you see the city. My nose is almost touching the glass as I'm trying to look at everything at the same time. I knew it was big from the small glimpse I had when I was on the train, but I didn't realize how big it actually was. The city's limits are so far from each other and even for someone who grew up looking at the endless sea, it's really impressive. Behind the high buildings, the sun is starting to go down, which means it must be around eight. Less than three days ago, I was still running on the beach, swimming in the waves, chasing birds and catching some fishes so my family can have a nice meal. Now, memories of this place I'll never see again is the only thing i have against loneliness. I hear some sound and immediately turn around. On the previously empty table is sitting a nice meal, still fuming. Ateia informs me that the meal is made of sweet marinated chicken, a kind of rice that I already forgot the name of, caramélisés onions and vegetables. With the main course comes some bread shaped like a flower and the dessert is a chocolate cake. I've never ate chocolate or even a cake and I'm really intrigued by the taste it will have that I decide to jump ahead and eat it first. At first, the sweetness of it takes me by surprise. I take a second bite and this time, it's the texture that surprises me. I keep eating it until there's nothing on the plate. I push it away and bring the main course closer to me, under Ateia's disgusted glare.
"As you probably know, we are still waiting on some districts to arrive. Of course, 12 will be late, like usual, so the parade will be tomorrow afternoon. At least this year, they made sure to schedule it later so that 12 has all the time in the world to arrive. They never seem to be on time and honestly, who can blame them with a mentor such as Haymitch Abernathy."
She truly seems disgusted by that man. I only know him by name, I've never seen him on television and I wasn't even born yet when he won the Games. It was district's 12 first victor in the history of the Hunger Games and it happened during the second Quarter Quell. That year, to remind every citizens of Panem that two rebels died for every dead citizens of the Capitol, districts had to send four tributes to the arena instead of the usual two. That meant twice as many people to kill, but also twice as many people that wanted to kill you. No one expected a tribute from 12 to win. After the games, he apparently started drinking and never stopped. Ateia's voice brings me back to reality.
"Anyway, let's talk about the costume!" she says with an excited voice. Tribute's are required to wear something that represents their districts. You are from district 4, that means it needs to be related to fishing. Me and Aurelius, Viviana's stylist, decided to go with something simple, but different and remarkable. While the prep team was working on you, we decided to make some last minute changes. We want you to show more body." She adds while pointing at my chest. "We want the Capitol to remember you, even if you lose!"
She laughs but I don't I don't understand how this situation can be remotely funny to anyone with a brain. I automatically lose all appetite. We want the Capitol to remember you, even if you lose! Thing is, even if I lose and the Capitol forgets I ever existed, people back home won't. My friends won't. My teachers won't. My neighbors won't. My parents won't. I'm all they've got since we lost my brother five years ago. I'm all they've got against hunger. I'm probably their last hope of growing old. I can't let them down. I can't lose. A spark ignites inside of me; I found my reason to fight, something that the Capitol can never take away from me, love is what will bring me home.