Chapter 4 - The Reaping

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"Cinna?" I say, shocked. "But, but, you're dead!

"Well, missy, no I'm not, because here I am," he replies calmly. "I'll answer questions later. In the meantime, come with me, it's not long before the reaping starts." 

"Ok," I say, and follow him out of the prep room, through the corridors, and into another room I have somehow never seen before. The ceiling must be as tall as the mansion itself, and there are shelves and shelves lining the walls, each with a different kind of dress on it. Ladders go up the walls, reaching to the very top shelf, which is a good five metres high, probably even higher. Cinna goes ahead and climbs the ladder up to a rail of dark purple dresses. He picks one out, drapes it over his half arm, and climbs down using the other. 

"Oh it's beautiful," I say. "Did you make it?" 

"No," Cinna answers. "It's kinda hard to do anything now, what with this.." He waves his half arm.

" He waves his half arm

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"Oh. Right," I say. I won't ask any questions, it's probably a sensitive topic. Cinna walks in silence out, and I follow him, leaving the mass shelves of dresses behind us. We go back into the prep room, and he says, "Ok then, undress and I'll pass this dress to you. It should be your size." What? Did he just say undress? I guess I have no choice but to obey, and he must know what he's doing, right? I stand there in just my bra and knickers and put the dress over my head at top speed.

"Woah, woah. Slow down, these seams don't look very well sewn; you might rip them if your not careful," he says, so I slow down. Cinna checks his watch. "Oh gosh, we're running behind. Follow me!" We run down the corridor and I nearly slip on the long fabric of my dress. I spot Avita and Cornelia waiting at the end of the corridor, not sure on where to go. 

"Avita! Cornelia!" I call, running over to them.

"Where do we go? I thought all the stylists were supposed to be told where to go but, um, erm, sorry. I, uh, didn't get told..." says Cornelia, her eyes on Cinna and her voice trailing off. 

"Cornelia?" he says. "Cornelia Dovecote?" 

"Y-y-yes," replies Cornelia. 

"Cornelia!"

"Dad!" They run into each other's arms, and me and Avita just stand here awkwardly. 

"Shall we go?" Avita whispers in my ear.

"Yeah. Look, there's a tent out there. That's probably where the other tributes are," I reply. We walk out to the tent, leaving Cornelia and Cinna to chat. I'm sure we'll find out what's happening later. For now though, we head into the tent and find it packed full of children, most of them in our classes at school. Avita goes over to some of her friends, and I see a group of my sort of friends. It's easy to spot them, we're the shortest ones here, even if we are twelve and thirteen. Everyone is else is really tall, and most of them look at least sixteen. 

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