"Goodbye..." Effie says, staring off into the distance. I know you're probably not supposed to do this, but it hug her.
"Thank you, Effie. I couldn't be as great as I am right now without you." I say. Effie hugs back, before letting go. Tears have cut a trail through her makeup.
"Of course!" Effie says. Colt has already left.
"You know, you may be my ticket to a better district!" She says. I smile.
"I will always remember you, Effie Trinket. Always." I reply. She smiles, waving, as I walk out the door, to where Zaire and Gemma are waiting. As I close the door, I can here her whisper one thing.
"As I you, Miss Drapewood. As I you."
"Ow!" I say, as they put the tracker in my arm. It hurts. I'm going to be transported to the arena, to be prepared, then to be ruthlessly killed to death by the Careers. At least that's my view on the Hunger Games.
I stare ahead of me, thinking. Maybe if I prove myself, I can join the Careers. I know there's one girl named Coronia, she's from district 10, yet she's been excepted into the Careers. But she is at the top of her game. Her nails are like daggers. I've seen them.
I am dressed in a black shirt, a brown jacket hiding it from view. I wear navy blue pants, skin tight to the ankles. I wear knee high boots, and my hair is braided the same way it usually is. Just across the forhead. But instead of being clipped with the leaf, it is clipped with a normal hair clip.
I stand in the arena, my fists clenched. Five second left on the clock. Four second. Three seconds. Two. One. A horn blows, as I am the first one to sprint ahead. I grab the first few weapons I find, and two heavy and big backpacks. I sprint ahead, so happy to have a good head start. Until I'm tackled by Glory, the sister of the boy who saved my sister.
"Hey, twelve. My friends and I were wondering if you want to join us. Y'know, for a bit. Before the real games start." She says. Unsure of what to do, I nod my head, but I make sure that I keep the two bags for myself. I only wonder what the capitol would think of a small twelve year old from the seam making it as a career.
I spot Coronia, and her dagger sharp nails. I see her using a leaf to brush red polish out on them. I wonder why she's not helping the bloodbath.
Gloy drops me off at Coronia, before jpining in onthe fight. I smell blood, as I realize what Coronia's fingers are being painted with. Blood of the bloodbath victims.
"Hello, twelvie. What's you're name anyway, Miss Perfect. Miss Twelve year old?" She says, her voice like glass. Smooth, but edgy.
"Zinnia." I say, and she smirks, before chuckling as the last finger nail has dried in bloodly lumps.