Fecilia Feathersfowl's (former escort, prisoner of Snow) P.O.V:
He made me her. That awful Snow made me Gretchen Tittle, and now I'm about to be interviewed as her. It's terrible. I don't want to. But they'll kill me if I don't. Eventually they'll kill me anyway. But I'd really like to live a while longer.
The other tributes go. My 'District partner', Elijah, is called out. I try to breathe deeply. Snow told me every single detail about poor Gretchen's life, but I might get something wrong, and then the game's up.
"GRETCHEN TITTLE!" Calls the booming voice of Waldorf Cobb. I slowly come out onto the stage, petrified. My name is not Fecilia, it's Gretchen. My brother's name is Gus. My boyfriend's name is Victor. My best friend is Haley. Make something up about what I like about the Capitol. I'm going to be fine. The bright lights flash in my face and I somehow find my way to the chair. I see Waldorf. "So, Gretchen, how are you today?" He asks.
Say you are fine, say the opposite of your current feelings, not that you feel sick and are scared out of your mind. "Never been better," I say with a pathetic smile.
"Well... what is your favorite thing about the Capitol?" Waldorf asks.
Oh my gosh I've lived here all my life this is normal to me how can I answer I don't have a favorite part help me help me help me. "Uh, the fashion sense of everyone here," I say. Was that bad or good or fine or I'm so scared!
Waldorf claps his hands together and laughs loudly. "The fashion sense! She likes our clothes, everyone!" The audience claps and cheers.
"Yes, we do have very nice attire here," Waldorf smiles. "So, is there anyone at home? A boyfriend, perhaps?" He questions.
Oh gosh what was his name oh oh what was it I can't remember oh this is terrible I hate this whole thing I hate President Snow what was it! "Uh, nobody, really," I say meekly. I wish I could hide in the folds of the sparkly purple dress I'm wearing. Boy, I'm glad Gretchen isn't coming home because her boyfriend that I can't remember the name of is probably furious. Suddenly the timer buzzes, my interview is over. I get up from the chair as Waldorf shouts 'Gretchen Tittle' again and stumble off the stage.
President Snow is waiting. "You will go into the arena as her. Would you rather be blown up or go into the bloodbath and have a tribute kill you?" He asks. Wow, I get to choose my death. What fun. Suddenly a plan begins to form in my head.
"The Bloodbath," I say, and shove past him.