Pants were for big girls, so Arabella wore a dress instead. Busts were for big girls so there was puff and fluff that hung in strings about her body, as if to make her a child of noise. Such a loud dress. (I am the sound you cannot hear. Silence is how the view is made solid.) The red sheer mixed well against the oranges of her curled hair, which lay in ringlets across the splatters of freckles that lined her neck. Even the tiny blobs of skin called her ears had been decorated--clasp earrings with beautiful red drips of colored diamonds that sparkled and glowed from the inside the way amber did.
"Are you ready?"
Arabella didn't know. She giggled and chuckled and shrugged and ran her hands through the dress. It only came to her knees. Against the colorful, prideful, black and gray and green colors of the Capitol she was little outstanding. Her wedges fit into the polished tile floors and they didn't bang the way she had hoped. The brackets jingled but not enough. (Can I never make enough noise?) No, no, no inside thoughts, only outside thoughts, before I lose myself here inside of me.
It was smart she stop herself because they had been waiting on her response for quite some time. The collapse of the outer thought castle would wait until night, where her mind was free of the boundaries of conversation. Until then she would rely only on the barest thoughts. A reckless exchange, but one utterly worthwhile.
"Sure!" She giggled again and then answered a second time, "If such is possible. I guess I better get out there!"
By the time Arabella looked up to them they had gone. She didn't even know if they'd been there at all. Shaking her head, she tried to think of something to do. Empty. What's the use of a brain if it never works when I do? "Such pitiful use. Oh, the torture of my soul," she whispered.
The room was unbearably quiet so she stood and walked past counters of makeup and outfits and polish to reach the door. A cold handle was grasped and turned. Click, swoosh; it opened. She stole herself out and snuck through to her spot next to Drake in a lineup. Everyone was waiting and it appeared that she was the last to show up. Drake didn't turn around to talk to her, too caught up talking to someone else in line, so she waited and tried not to blush and get upset for being late. She looked around and felt her heart drop at the sight before her.
"Wow," she said lowly. They were all so pretty. The girls wore outfits that clung and enhanced their bodies. All of them looked perfect. The boys were worse, for they barely even needed makeup and they were handsome all the more. I'm just...a little girl. I'm not even pretty next to them. How do I stand out when I'm ordinary?
Apparently, very easily. It wasn't too long of waiting--only thirteen minutes of Lala land and fluff--before it was her turn to gracefully enter the stage, glide to her seat, sit down, and talk with the utmost confidence. They called her name and she started up the stairs, thankful that the others were waiting behind a closed door and couldn't watch her 'Behind The Scenes Failures'. Just as she reached the second step she tripped and the wedges fell to the ground, trailed rapidly by her long legs and slender body. "Ouch," she cried out.
Another second and two men picked her up and led her through a door she hadn't seen a moment prior. White worlds shined and lights were strong and they say her down on a bed with a clear sheet of paper overtop it. Dizziness overtook her and a prick of ice entered her veins and screamed aloud. A shriek overtook her at the sight of a three inch needle exiting her arm and she choked it off just before they ushered her out. Pain! Needle! Sh-fu-damnit, what just happened?
Arabella shook her head and it fizzled out upon itself in bubbles that wouldn't cease. They lay at the edges of her mind the way the thought castle did, always there but never seen until everything came into play. A spinning vortex of memories and then she was flying up the stairs and stopped as bright lights filled her vision.
"Hi," she squeaked.
An audible laugh came from the audience, then the gentle sound of a female voice telling her to come forward. Arabella did as commanded, unable to take her eyes off the lights. She couldn't see a single person in the entire place but their noises were overwhelming.
"Arabella Blackspool, everyone!"
The lady turned as Arabella sat down on a sleek chair with padded sides the color of burnt meat. Peppermints and chemicals invaded her senses and she nearly tripped trying to adjust to the seat. "Having trouble?" the woman asked. She had a familiar, strict voice.
"Yeah, a little-" Eyes focusing, Arabella looked up and gasped. Mother. "Mom-Mommy?"
"Hello, darling."
"What are you doing here?" She looked around, trying to find the interviewer. No one else was there on the plain white stage. "Mom, you can't be here."
"What gives you authority over what happens and doesn't? Arabella Marie, are you sassing me?"
Another laugh vibrated through the large room.
"Why, if I didn't know better, I would say you've traded spots with that brother of yours. It's no wonder he volunteered after you were picked," her mother said. Tears nudged in Arabella's eyes and she swallowed hard. Dry sticks had somehow found their way into her throat. "Well, tell us, Arabella. What does a girl like you plan to do to win the Games?"
"Umm..." Twirling around a strand of hair on her pinkey finger, Arabella smiled and shrugged. Then, giggled. A slight sigh followed by an answer that almost hurt her to admit. "I don't think that far ahead."
"A girl constantly stuck in her own thoughts and she doesn't think?" Mother laughed again and the crowd seemed fake the way they followed what she did. They hung off her words like she were the President herself. It's just Mommy. Why are they like this? "Well, Miss Blackspool, have you made any allies?"
"Yup! I have lots of friends. I have Iago and Drakie and there's this super sharp pixie named Vita--she's not my friend friend but we talk." The words wouldn't stop flooding her mouth and pooling out onto the floor. Water growing, she watched fishes swim past and giggled halfway through the rest of her words. "I have lots of friends and we're all gonna have a grand, wonderful time killing each other!"
"Oh, I see."
"What?"
"Too personal. All right, Blackspool. On to the real questions, then. Arabella, answer me this. Are you scared?" Mother leaned forward and crossed one leg over the other, her strict black dress staying perfect on her legs. She's so perfect. (How am I anything like her?) No, stay on task, answer-
"I'm not scared."
"No?"
Arabella shook, her entire dress shaking with her and glimmering in the light. "Most people are scared. Of dying, of the Games, of watching others due. I'm not scared. I'm going to go in and have as much fun as possible. I'm going to make friends. They're going to die. And in the end, when I go home, then I can cry and be scarred and hate myself. Then I can live the lonely life of a victor. Then, maybe you'll stop asking questions and just leave me be the way you do Drake."
She doesn't understand. I'm going to win this.
"I mean, come on. You're cute and you seem to have spirit...but that's all I see in you. It's all anyone has ever seen in you. Face it, Arabella. The Capitol already knows. Little girls don't win."
She nodded, again swallowing hard. Dryness spread over her tongue and she coughed heavily. The thoughts returned, stronger and more urgent than before. Deeper. (She's right, yet I'm going to do it.) "I know."
"Why are you still smiling then?"
"Because I am cute. And I do have spirit. But I'm not just a girl!" she cried out, "I can survive without my brother. I can survive without my family. I can do this all alone...but I don't want to. I don't have to. I have a life ahead of me and I want to live it."
"Arabella, can you tell me one reason why you should even live through this?"
She thought for a moment. (Perhaps I am thinking for a lifetime. Maybe never ending. Maybe my thoughts do never stop, even when I can't hear them.) After a second of her tongue poking out from the corner of her lip, Arabella said, "I don't want to die. No one wants to die. But I'm not done living yet. The others...they've had a chance to do things. I haven't done anything yet. I want to. I can fight, I know I can. I just need a chance. One chance."
"And you think you can get that?"
Arabella shook her head. "No, Momma. I don't think anyone has a chance."