I twirled in the mirror. I was wearing a strapless, light blue, sparkly dress that feathered at the bottom. It was very elegant, but I couldn't help thinking it was a little too much. My hair was straightened. I was wearing pale blue eyeshadow and bright red lipstick. I barely looked like myself with all the foundation and concealer on. The girl in the mirror looked much prettier than me and kinda sassy. "I don't think I like you very much." I said to my reflection. No response.
Gen rushed in and told me we needed to leave. I followed her.
I watched as the other tributes went on stage and using their plastered on fake smiles talked about their laborous lives back in their district and how excited they are to be in the Capitol and how great they are at one thing or the other. Sucking up, the same thing I would be reduced to in only a matter of minutes. You see, the Capitol doesn't only murder us, they also make sure that we have zero dignity and/or pride by the time we are finished with these Games.
And then it was my turn. Caesar Flickerman announced my name and I walked on stage, almost falling flat on my face from the stupid heels. It was only Caesar's first year doing this job, but he was pretty good. He always kept the conversation going even with stubborn tributes. The only problem was that I worried about saying - or doing something stupid. Which was inevitable for me, because that, and my general hate for human beings, are the reasons I keep to myself. I was going to mess up this stinking interview just like I have everything else. Not that it mattered anyways. The chances of me making this out alive were little to none. Gen had discussed startegies with me, but I hardly payed attention.
"I am absolutley in love with your dress. It's really suits your body type and it matches your eyes splendidly." He commented.
"Thank you." I replied as genuinely as I could, making sure to remove any traces of sarcasm in my voice. Although I wasn't sure why he was complimenting me, when it was all my designer's doing.
"How are you enjoying the Capitol so far?"
Now here's where the lying came in. What a shame I hadn't delved deeper into acting at a younger age. I put on my best fake smile. "It's amazing. Everything is so bright and sparkly, and the food is to die for. The people are so nice and hospitable as well." Everybody in the audience awwwwed. It was sickening.
"How did you feel when you were reaped?"
Sick to my stomach. "I was a bit nervous, actually. Nervous that I was going to shame my district, I guess. But I am confident, and I am positive that I am going to win these Games! And even if I lose, I will have the comfort of knowing I tried my best and that's all that really matters in the end." I made sure not to use the word "die", because it tends to make the Capitol audience a little unsettled. (Even though that's what I really wanted to say. I wanted to scream it at every one of those twisted Capitol souls. "This is not a silly little game. You are killing people. Killing actual living, breathing life." But I couldn't, of course. That would be like signing my death certificate there and then.)
"I'm sure you'll do great. District Three should be proud to have an amazing tribute like yourself."
I tried to blush, but I'm pretty sure it looked like I was having some form of a seizure so I quit. "Thanks, Caesar."
"You betcha." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. A difficult task, but I managed. "What do you think your family wants the most for you? Besides winning or living"
My father doesn't care. I contemplated telling the truth, but the truth would take too long. So here I was, defending an awful person's name for the sake of trying to beat the impossible odds. "It's just me and my... dad." Ugh, haven't called him that in a while. "I think he would just want to be happy." I sure hope I didn't sound too fake.
"I'm sure he would, you're a lovely young woman." Before I could thank him again he asked the next question. "What would winning mean to you? Besides money and fame. How are you going to cope with it?"
I wouldn't have to live in constant fear anymore. I would be safe. Nobody would want to mess with me. Additionally, I could maybe do something for once. Help people. Make a difference. "I think it would mean pride. Pride for my district." I really hoped I didn't sound like I was reading off a script.
"Anyone back home?" He winked at me. He actually had the nerve to wink at me. The gall this perverted, lava-haired man had! "With a pretty face like that, boys must be chasing you!"
The only problem is getting them to stop. Bricks to the face usually help. I'm actually quite content alone. Alone is where I'm safe. "Not really. That stuff is too dramatic for me."
"Are you excited for the Arena?"
Would you be excited if you were at a cliff and some invincible invisible force kept pushing you closer and closer to the edge and there would be absolutley nothing you could do, and then when you reach the edge you could see the jagged rocks, at least fifty feet down with absolutley nothing you could do to stop getting pushed off that cliff. Does that sound exciting? Yes, I am thrilled. "A little bit, but I am so sad to be leaving the Capitol."
"Make it back alive and you'll be able to visit here as often as you want!" Well, that was a complete lie.
"That will be so much fun!" But I suppose that was too.
"What are your skills? Can you tell us what weapon you'll be using?"
I don't have any I totally blow on everything. I have nothing to offer. I'm as good as dead. I hesitated, wondering what lie I could conjure that would sound even remotely believable. "Well, as it's plain to see, I'm not very strong so I obviously won't be much of a fight in hand-to-hand combat. But I'm clever. And I'm quick. I'll be able to trick them before they even know what hit them. But I can't say much more than that. Don't want them to know my secrets."
"It looks like times up."
Or perhaps you just ran out of questions.
"Thank you so much, good night everybody." I waved gently.
I wondered if the audience saw through my lies. Apparently not, because they started applauding. Maybe my acting skills weren't as completely dreadful as I thought them to be. Or maybe they had no reason to not believe what I was saying. It was, after all, my life at stake. Not theirs.
