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Task Two

Task Two: an Entirely Different Evil

   Fact: I cannot, in good conscience, regret what I did for my sister. Fact: even if I die, I could never permit myself to regret it even for a second. Fact: my sister will live because of what I did for her.
I feel the crystal clear liquid drizzling down my head, my cheeks, my lips, and I think about what a full life she could live because of me. It drips off the end of my nose, I watch the long trail of droplets until they splash at my feet. Warm, clean, clear. You would never get water like this back in my district. Sometimes Alvie and I would run to the creek, the one deep in the woods right by the beach, and wash our hair, but we were lucky if we got there before anyone else with the same plans. I reach a hand up slowly and turn the glass knobs toward the right, and immediately the water ceases to flow. It's like controlling your own private waterfall. On, off, on off; all with just a twist of the wrist.
Waiting for me on a silver bar attached to the wall outside the revolving shower doors is a white towel, a small "TC" embroidered in the corner, to represent where it belongs: the Training Center.
I wrap the thing around myself, after having pinched my hair between it to dry it off, and step to the sink. My eyes trail along the pristine counters, to the perfectly clear mirror. I think I remember Petronia mentioning something about an electrical system beneath the glass to keep it from fogging after a hot shower. I see myself, staring back. My hazel eyes look clouded, lost beneath a blanket of thoughts. I think about Alvie, my twin. Aris, my little sister. And my father, Nicolaus. I almost can't believe that what I did at the Reaping happened, but being here in a spotless white towel and in a spotless white room, it has to be. I feel ashamed of my face, identical to my sister's. I'm not ashamed to look like her, not at all. I could never be. I am ashamed of all the differences between us. Of how my jaw comes down just a little longer than hers. How my hair is slightly thicker. How my eyes, slightly darker, slightly tighter than hers. Will anybody back home notice? If they do, will we be reported? I know I can never regret what I'd done; but if it turns out to do more harm than good, well, I am not entirely sure how I will feel. All I want is to protect Alvie; I would die for her, do anything.
And so, taking a deep breath, tightening my grip on the towel loosely hung around my body, I take a step away from the mirror and promise myself to do anything to keep people from finding out we switched places at the Reaping.

Behind a small velvet door by the shower I find a myriad of plush, fluffy robes. From silk, to satin, to cotton. From red, to yellow, to blue. Countless whole-body coverings line the closet. My fingers trace the outline of the frame and find the button; I remember Claudius, my stylist, showing it to me on my first day in the Capitol. I nearly fell backward as the entire inside of the closet began to move, revealing even more luscious articles of clothing. Anything you need and more for a bathroom.
I hold my thumb against the button until the section of blue robes comes into view. I release my thumb, and the closet stops moving. Selecting a dark navy, plush robe from a hanger, I drop the towel on the floor and slip my arms through the sleeves. At once it seems my body temperature has raised a level or two, and I pull the collar up to my nose to take a big whiff. It smells so clean, unlike anything I'd ever owned in my life. Actually, I remember one time my mother bought Alvie and I some new grey material to make dresses. We'd finally have something nice to wear to the Reapings, she said. I remember exactly how happy Alvie was, and how utterly disappointed I was. I actually preferred to wear boys clothes to the Reaping, I thought that pants were much more comfortable than dresses. Another thing I do remember about the evening, though, is that after we had tried on the dresses for the first time, I took a clump of fabric and pressed it against my nose; it smelled clean, fresh.

My eyes slowly fade into focus, a ridiculous smile on my face as I exit the bathroom and enter my very own private fifth-floor suite. Everything from the mahogany carpeting to the crystal chandelier makes me feel disgustingly rich. I know I could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve any of it, especially if my sister isn't here to share in all this luxury with me. I feel a stab of guilt, wishing for her to be by my side at least 'til the end. It will be lonely, dying without her. But I know it'll be worth it.
Halfway to the bed I stop cold, my eyes landing on the outline of a small boy standing by the nightstand. I remember my token is on that stand, and hope he hasn't taken it.
"What are you doing?" I snap angrily. He whirls around breathlessly, his deep brown colored eyes popping out of their sockets in fear.
"I-I was just--" I try to look behind him, to make sure he hasn't taken my necklace. I can't quite see the table, though, as he leans against it, blocking my view.
"Just what? Why are you in here?" I give him a once over, and realize he's my district partner. He sleeps right across the hall from me. His small, round face has dozens upon dozens of dark brown freckles all over it. Not an inch of it is missed by the speckled growths. His thick, black eyebrows have shot up as high as they will go, and I remember I'm in nothing but a bath robe. I try to be casual as I tighten the sash around my waist, but his eyes fall to the motion like he expects something else to come out of it. My eyes darken and I glare at him.
"Answer the question." I snarl. He shakes his head of black hair, and his eyes search the room, anywhere but me. I feel a little more comfortable now, but I still hold myself stiffly in position. I glance at the door, to my right. I know I can run for it if he's here to kill me or whatever. Not that he would risk it, the Capitol would probably kill him and find some other tributes. I wonder if they'd pick Alvitta if that happened.
"Well, I uh, well, I came to s-see you." He stutters, blinking several times as if looking at me is hard to do. I furrow my eyebrows.
"What for?" I say, still in a dark tone but less threatening than before.
"Well, I recognized you at the Reaping, and I-I just couldn't place where I'd seen you before, un-until now." He continues. His hands aren't propping him against the table anymore. They fiddle in front of him, nervous I suppose. Crossing my arms over my chest, I stride slowly to the bed and have a seat. I never recognized him at all. He was, and still is, a complete stranger to me. That must mean that Alvie knew him, or met him, something. I try to go through a list in my head of Alvie's friends but we don't have many, and she always tells me when she meets somebody new. I just can't recall her ever mentioning the name Flint Sharp.
"Oh?" Is all I say, fearful of giving myself away. I can only hope Alvie doesn't know him enough to remember him.
"Yeah." I don't know why I expected him to just blurt out an explanation. Nothing is ever that easy.
"Yeah." I say back, glancing him up and down. He's not very tall, but considering the fact that he must be around twelve, it's not surprising. We sit in silence for a few moments, before either of us can speak. And finally, when we do speak, it's Flint who says something first.
"I remembered you bailed me out once."
"Oh?" I say, again. I can't keep doing this, I look really suspicious. I look at the ground, pretending to be trying my hardest to remember. "I'm sorry, it must have been my sister you met."
"No, it was you! I remember because you said your name, Alvitta da Vinci." Just as I begin to think I have a way out. Think harder, Rey.
I just have to hope for the best by saying, "Well, I'm sorry but I don't remember you." He looks hurt briefly, but then he starts talking, more vividly.
"Remember, it was a hot day that day. Two months before the Reaping. There was this merchant selling apples, and I know you were watching when I ran up and took one of them." I stare at him unbelievingly. "He grabbed me and threatened to cut off my hand and then report me to the Peacekeepers, so you stepped up and saved me. Now do you remember? Do you remember what you said?"
"No, tell me." I say urgently, only now I'm curious as to what happens next in the story.
He gives a short sigh, frustrated, and continues. "You said, 'My name is Alvitta da Vinci, and I want you to let this boy go.' I remember especially because he was like, super awed by it and stuff, and let me go right away. Then he demanded payment and you said you'd take care of it, and paid him. I um, also wanted to say I'm sorry." His cheeks redden and he scratches the back of his head anxiously. "For stealing another apple, and right after you helped me out too. I should've said thanks." I feel my cheeks beginning to heat up too, and I can't think of what to say. What would Alvie say, I ask myself. I almost laugh out loud, remembering that she'd probably give him a heartfelt speech about honesty and the meaningfulness of an apology. But, Flint doesn't know the real Alvie, so I settle for something a little less dramatic.
"Well, thanks. For telling me, that is."
"Do you remember?" He asks pleadingly. I stare at him in the eyes for several seconds, contemplating my answer. Will it be right to say yes? I will say yes.
"Yes. I remember." I blurt out. He begins to smile, and even leans on the table again. He looks more at ease now that we've cleared the air.
There's a pounding at the door, and Petronia's voice asking if I'm decent. I realize that I'm not, but Flint is already in here, and the robe is very modest, so I tell her to come in anyway. I hope this won't make me look bad. She enters and I almost throw myself backward when I see that she's wearing a barf-colored poofy dress. I can't even look at her hair, the same shade and teased very high. Petronia looks from me to Flint, and decides nothing is going on so she speaks quickly.
"I hope you can change quickly Miss Vinci, because training is in twenty minutes."
"It's da Vinci." I say before I can soak in what else she said. I fly off the bed, standing next to it in complete horror. "Twenty minutes!" I shriek.
"Yes, yes. You hurry and change, Flint, come with me." She instructs, gesturing for the boy to follow. He does so willingly, and gives me a small smile before disappearing out the door. I give a frustrated half-sigh, half-growl and search through the spacious closet at the north end of the room for some good clothes for training. This should be fun, I tell myself sarcastically.