The Hunger Games

Chapter Four

Yank! I wince loudly as a pink haired lady named Katya tugs at a knot in my hair. She jumps back at the sound of the knot being freed.

"Yikes!" She pipes. "Must your hair be so knotty?" I grit my teeth slowly but do not say anything. Instead, I give her a look that makes her look away quickly. She smiles and softy combs through my hair. I hate the Remake Center. I hate it. The ladies dress like circus clowns (something we learned about in History class), and the men all wear tights and long sleeves. It's sickening all together. Why anyone would want to come here to be remade is beyond me. Katya takes one last brush through my thick hair and claps gleefully.

"All done!" She cries. I take a look in the mirror. My hair is actually pretty. I have never seen it so well combed through. I never even noticed I had layers beyond layers. It is so soft and shiny. I turn to Katya and smile.

"Thank you. I never thought I would ever see my hair like this. "I say. She curtsies. I am then taken to a different room to meet my stylist, Cinna. Katya says he's the best in the business. By the way she dresses, I highly doubt that. I sit on a small pedestal and shiver. The Capitol is so cold. Not even in District 12 had we experienced such low temperatures. The door suddenly swings open, and out steps a young looking man, who I assume is Cinna.

Cinna is tall, around six foot, and has short brown hair. He stares at me with his beautiful brown eyes. I examine his clothing. Tights and a long sleeved shirt. Just as I had predicted. I flinch in reaction to the cold. Cinna smiles.

"The cold's getting to you, too?" I nod.

"Why is it so freezing?" I ask, wrapping my around myself. Cinna scowls at the window, which gives us the view of the Capitol.

"The people here need the cold temperature to keep their fake whatever...y'know fake. They're afraid if they don't their fake boobs, or nose, or chin will melt off." He says. I furrow my eyebrows. "You mean like the fake stuff is made out of wax?" I ask. Cinna shakes his head. "Beats me what it's made out of." He says, ending the conversation.

He walks around me in circles, examining my body. I had always been insecure, unlike Katniss. Katniss never cared about what people thought of her body. Cinna stops in front of me and nods. "Okay," He says. "you're acceptable." Acceptable? He couldn't have chosen a more vague word. Cinna puts his hands to his chin and sighs. "I might have an idea." He says. I think back to Katniss, what she would say about all of this.

Horrifying. Just horrifying.

I can hear her beautiful sing-song voice saying it, too. How I missed her so much. I hope nothing happened to her and Gale. I hope she decided running away was stupid and turned back and came home. Maybe she found out I was in the Games and wanted to watch. Maybe she didn't.

"What's your idea?" I ask. Cinna just stands there and smiles.

An hour or two later, I'm standing in front of him in a black unitard from head to toe. I look down at the outfit and gulp. Cinna smiles and faces me to a mirror. He nods approvingly. "Perfect." He whispers.

Hours pass. Peeta and I are standing on our chariot waiting to go out to the city. I am nervously gripping the edge of the chariot as I stare at the other tributes. They all look so beautiful in their outfits. Gorgeous colors, shining and all. We're just average. District 1's chariot starts moving towards the city, and I know it's time. I gulp and let go of the chariot. My body feels stone-like. I feel as if I can't move. Peeta nudges my shoulder. I look to him.

"Keep your cool. Smile." He whispers. I nod and breathe. I hear the cheers of the city. Cheering for the other districts. No one ever has cared for District 12. Not since Haymitch become who he is now. A drunk mess. I watch Rue, a girl from District 11, turn to me and smile. She's the same age as me. I wonder if she is as scared as I am? If her heart is pounding twice as normal?