Ashley Odair (73rd Hunger Games)

chapter 4 - the meal

There, before me, sits Dad. I gasp. He is looking into a big glass box filled with see-through water. Several large octopuses’ swim through the water, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

“Dad!” I cry out and race towards him. Dad spins round and sees me. Felon claps his hands, like a delighted child. I ignore him. Dad doesn’t seem too pleased to see me. I don’t know why.

“Dad! You’re our mentor!” I shriek excitedly.

“Yeah and if they realise how much I love you, they’re going to kick me out.” Dad replies, “So, you’re going to have to pretend I don’t know you very well, understand?” Dad says sternly, not letting me argue.

“Yeah, ok. But I hate it here. I want to go home.” I whine. It wasn’t fair!

“Just pretend you like it here. Enjoy the food. And DON’T try to escape again. You aren’t doing anyone any favours, ok?” Dad hisses back.

“Fine, whatever but that doesn’t mean I really like it!” I say, defeated. Just then, Kai takes the opportunity to saunter in. When he sees Finnick, his face darkens.

“Isn’t there anyone else who could be our mentor? Anyone but him?” Kai moans.

“Now, now Kai, that isn’t the way to greet dear Finnick. I’m sure the crowds will just love to see him again!” Felon giggles. Who cares what the crowds will think! I glare at him but luckily, he doesn’t notice. His attention is fixed on Dad, his gaze a somewhat longing impression. Fortunately, he snaps out of it.

“Well! We better be on our way to dinner then! We don’t want to be off schedule!” Felon commands and leads the way out of the aquarium. Like sheep, we follow. After only a few carriages, we find ourselves back in the dining room. I sit down at the table which reminds me of 7 and poverty, oh such poverty. Finnick sits down a few seats down from me so he doesn’t have to look at me. I couldn’t decide which was worse, not seeing Dad again or having him so close and yet so far away, unreachable. Before I can ponder any longer on the matter of Dad and my mentor, who seem like two different people, the food arrives.

“About time too! Now. Tuck in. You need an early night. You’ve got a big, big day ahead of you.” Felon murmurs before daintily picking at his food. I stare in wonder at the delicacies that surround me. In case someone realises that it is one big mistake and takes the food away, I grab the nearest gold plated dish and spoon as much as I can of it onto my beautiful, antique plate. Just as I am going to eat it, I spot another sweet but unfamiliar food. Immediately, I reach for that and sample it as well. Before I realise it, my plate is piled high with more fancy dishes than I can name and I haven’t eaten a morsel of food. Embarrassed, I glance round and see everyone clutching their stomachs, utterly stuffed like our roast chicken that we get delivered on Parcel Day. I feel heat rising in my cheeks and I blush bright red. I look down at my plate and gobble down as much as I can.

However, I have eaten less than a quarter of it before I find my stomach groaning and complaining at the idea of any more food. Refusing to listen to it, I push one more mouthful in. Just too late, I realise what a mistake it was. My tummy refuses to accept it and spits it back out in the face of a nearby Capitol attendant. I hurriedly make to gabble an apology but Felon stops me.

“Dear Ash, don’t mind them! It gives them something to do. They can’t reply to your apologies anyhow so I find it a bit pointless and, well, unnerving.”

“They can’t speak? But why ever not?” I cry in anguish. Finnick stops me with a glare and I look at the floor. Despite this, Felon answers my question.

“Well, dear, they’re Avox’s. That means that they committed a terrible crime and they have been punished with the lack of speech. Do try to understand dear.

Surely Finnick has told you? No, hmm. Never mind dear, you’ll become accustomed to them soon enough.” Felon nods knowledgably. I nod, as if it was just a time of getting used it. Inside, my mind was convulsing at the very idea. Of clean Capitol people, maybe friends of my mother, pulling out tongues of innocent people. But yet, not innocent people. People who, according to Felon, had committed a terrible, terrible crime. Forcing myself to return to the present, I address everyone at the table around me.

“Um, I’m done.” I say, getting up to leave the table.