My stylist has me dressed in a short, red cocktail dress and matching high heels. I'm still not sure how to walk in them, so now I'm stumbling on stage waiting for Mitchell Davis to interrogate me on everything that's going through my head in 3 minutes.
After what seems like hours of waiting, Mitchell calls me to the front of the stage.
I'm trying to be confident, smiling at the crowd while I trip over my own feet, but smiling nonetheless.
"Elsie Pearce! How are you, doll?" He says, a grin plastered on his stretched face.
"I guess I'm as good as I can be, considering we're about to enter the arena where my death will take place." I muster a small smile and the audience laughs.
"Now don't say that! You have a chance of winning. Now tell me, what encouraged you to do this?" A replay of my volunteering is shown on the big screen behind and in front of me.
"Well, I just didn't think it was fair for a little girl who's lived for such a short time to have to come fight and see things she would never forget. I thought she should at least have a few more years."
"That was very noble of you. One last question, Els. How did your family and friends react?"
I thought of Robin yelling to me. "They weren't very happy with me."
The audience laughed again. "I think that's all the time we have now."
