"Ahhh!" I scream out, as hai is ripped from my leg. It's bare, now, and filled with excruciating pain.
"Oh, beauty hurts." Says a woman, Kara. I hold back the tears. I don't think my prep team understands what it means to get hurt. I WAS going to be thrown into a giant death machine, with twenty three bloodthirsty killing machines.
"I'm sorry. I guess I just don't know a thing about beauty." I ask. My prep team start consoling in me.
"Oh, that is so sorrowful! We'll make you beautiful!" Davian says, as he tears more hair off my leg.
"One last patch! And then you can see Gemma." Kara squeals. The other woman, I think her names Una, is very quiet. With one last yank and tear, I'm done.
I sit back to the door, as I wait for my stylist, This so called woman, Gemma.
I hear the door open, and I turn behind me, to see a tall woman, with a long green wig, and a tight spring green dress, covered in intricate designs. She vaguely resembles Effie.
"Hello, darling! I am Gemma, your stylist!" She squeals. "You are such a young thing. So envious." She continues. She takes a strand of my brown hair, the drops it, and it falls back, down past my shoulder. "So, I was thinking that we make alterations to your costume. Like, maybe instead of focusing on the miners, we focus on the coal. Miners are so last year." She resumes, in her ludicrous accent. "So, how do you feel about tunics or togas?" She asks. I look at her.
"Never worn one." I reply.
"Well, you will now! I have for you a tunic like dress." she comments, handing me a black dress. Then she gives me tights.
"I have covered these head to toe in coal dust. So make sure you move around!" She indicates, by swishing the tunic.
"Okay. May you turn around?" I ask. She looks at me.
"Alright. But I don't see what the problem is, darling." She returns. She faces the door, as I slip on the tunic, then the tights. She hands me black flats, which I easily put on. Gemma then procures a green barrette, in the shape of a leaf. "I think this would be perfect for you! Shows a bit of your personality." She says. Like she knows me. Sure.
She braids a clip of my hair, and clips it next to my ear, across my forehead.
"Perfect!" She says, after adding the last bit of make up. Nothing much, just a bit of eyeshadow.
I'm led to my chariot, and decide to stay quiet. Stylists, tributes and prep teams talk amongst themselves, as I climb into the chariot. Colt, the other tribute, is standing, staring strait ahead.
"I'm so scared." I tell myself. Unexpectedly, Colt turns to face me.
"Your Zinnia, right? No need to be scared. It's just a chariot." He says, a smile on his face. I see he's dressed in an identical costume.
"What if they hate us. We won't have sponsors, and we could die, and district twelve won't have a victor. Although they never have a victor, but there's a chance!" I say, no breaths included.
"For a twelve year old, your very cautious. But don't worry. I'm sure it will be okay. Relax." He replies. Colt reminds me of Ryder, only younger.
"Okay." I say. He smiles, and then the chariot suddenly moves.
"We're off, stay quiet. By the way, I love leaf." He says. I nod my head, and we smile. I wave at the crowd, but I'm sure no one's noticing. I make sure to move a bit, so the coal dust shimmers off of the tunic and tights.
We stop, and President Snow makes an announcement. My ears are ringing from all the screaming and cheering from before. But I do make out one clear line.
"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"
The line that has haunted my dreams since I was born. The line that means we have no chance.
"Are you okay?" Colt whispers. I look at him.
"I guess." I reply.
"Okay. Because you we're shaking, and getting all clammy."
"I think we're eating as soon as we get to our floor." I say, remembering what Zaire told me. Whole floor to each district.
We get to a huge elevator, where Effie, Haymitch, and Zaire are waiting for us. Colt and I step in, and we start chatting.
"Well, you did great so far, Zinnia!" Zaire says, smiling.
"Yes! Very good, both of you!" Effie happily says. I wonder if she's really like this. If she's a Capitol lobotomite, like the others. But I think she has some common sense.
"Eh." Haymitch says. I wonder if he's sober or drunk. Either way, Zaire elbows him in the gut.
"Enthusiasm." She tells him, as we step onto our floor.
"Woah..." I say, as I take it all in.
"Welcome to the Capitol." Zaire says. I smile at her, and she looks down at me and smiles.