*DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS, EXCEPT FOR THE STYLISTS AND ANY OTHER MADE UP PEOPLE. THE ENTIRE PLOT AND EVERYTHING ELSE IS MRS. COLLIN'S. I'M JUST WRITING A FAN FICTION. *
"No," I moaned. "Oh, no!"
But, I thought, I have no way to be sure. As soon as I thought that I figured I'd better check and see if there were any pregnancy testers. Of course, being the Capitol, they had everything. Including an instant result pregnancy tester which had been shoved into the back of the cabinet.
I used it and glanced down quickly. Congratulations! You are-- My thumb was covering up the last word, but I knew what it would say. I was so shocked, scared and happy, that I didn't remember the worst part of my pregnancy; I was still in the games. If my prep team found out about it, they would probably abort the baby. And, if I died, the baby would die, too. It would never grow to meet its father. It would never see it's three aunts or grandparents. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let the Capitol kill Chasin's baby.
Just as I was thinking this, Trustine knocked on the door to my room.
"The preps are ready for you, Clove!" She called.
"Alright," I said, but it came out as a whisper Trustine couldn't hear through the closed door.
"Clove!" She rapped on it again.
"Coming!" I yelled. I threw away the tester after I wrapped it up in toilet paper. Taking a deep breath, I walked over to the door, opened it, and stepped into the hall.
"Good morning, love," Trustine smiled. "Clarisse and your team are waiting for you."
She led me to the Prepping Floor.
"Sylvia, Madigan, Lucas!" Trustine called.
Two girls and one guy all bounced over.
The first girl had neon green hair, long sparkling turquoise eyelashes, purple lips, and jewel encrusted cheeks which were apparently supposed to look like freckles.
The second woman had a silver afro, golden eyes and lips, and silver dyed skin.
The man, Lucas, was the most normal looking. He wore a grey pantsuit and his crimson hair was covered in the same shade of glitter.
"We've got her from here, Trustine," Lucas's voice was surprisingly high pitched.
"Okay, off you go, Clove! Your team will take wonderful care you you." She promised and waved joyfully.
"Don't worry, Miss, you're in good hands now," The girl with neon hair, Sylvia, smiled.
"Oh, okay," My voice quivered slightly.
The prep team went to work. They waxed my body, ridding me of any "horrifying" hair. They reshaped my eyebrows, not to look like lace as Lucas wanted, but to look normal. They filed my nails down to a precise shape and covered my face in a thin layer of make-up that polished it. Last, they removed what Madigan squealed was a "mustache".
The team called in my stylist.
My stylist was Odette Lunaria. Tall, her body long and graceful. You would have thought of her to have an arrogant voice, but no. Her voice was extremely high, and, partnered with that eccentric Capitol accent, made her nearly drive me to insanity when she simply said hello. She was sporting her usual severely short bob haircut, and long, curled confetti hung down past her shoulders. Her full lips were painted a dark shade of red, which matched her hair very well.
