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25 ; TEARS OF GOLD
❛ You look like a human again, thank god. ❜
— Haymitch Abernathy
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I COULDN'T GET any sleep that night. The deaths I witnessed kept me up. I hear them screaming for me and I even smell them right next to me. Will it ever go away?
Haymitch and Effie keep asking questions while having breakfast but I just stare blankly at my full plate. I thought I'd never get the chance to smell sweet pancakes and fresh bacon ever again. But I couldn't eat.
"You need to eat, Ophelia." Effie spoke up after watching me for a while.
"She'll have enough time to eat later." Haymitch added. I look at him before taking the fork, staring at the food again. But then the empty chair right in front of me takes my attention, where Peeta was seated.
Effie sighs dramatically before turning her attention back to me. "Today is your big day. The ceremony with our President." Effie tried her best to lift my mood but I kept quiet for a while before speaking up.
"I bet he brings a knife to kill me in front of everyone then." I snapped which made Haymitch laugh. "Don't worry, sweetheart. He won't kill you yourself, he will get someone to do the dirty work."
Effie glared at Haymitch. "I'm trying to do my job here, Abernathy!" She squaked before taking another sip of her apple juice.
"You'll meet Cinna and the prep team in ten, Ophelia. Be ready." She said after she swallowed the sweet fruity liquor. I just nod before standing up and vanishing into my room again without a word.
–•–
It feels like it's been years when I was laying on the metal table when I just arrived at the Capitol. The prep team is doing their usual job. Luckily the serum blocked my hair from growing so they're just making sure my wounds are covered after they washed my body.
Shortly after I find myself covered in powder and eyeshadow while the air is filled with the scent of hairspray. Venia, who's using a dark red colour on my nails is asking me every five minutes if I'm alright which I just answer with a nod. Flavius is meanwhile curling my hair to perfection while he keeps talking about his new coloured pink poodle he adopted. He then slicks my hair back into a high ponytail while the perfect curls dance in the air.
The only one keeping quiet is Octavia while she uses different eyeshadow colours on my eyelid. I'm glad at least one respects the situation I'm currently in and doesn't blabber about a pink poodle while twenty-two tributes just lost their lives because of an incapable system and a sociopathic President.
