Chapter 13

It was a difficult thing for me to wake up. My head throbbed dully and I felt about as out of it as I could possibly be. I sat up slowly, hand going to my head and pushing the hair back out of my face. Hadn't I woken up already today? What was I doing back in bed? My thoughts were muddled and everything around me had this odd shine to it that I thought I had to be dreaming. I got out of bed hesitantly as if expecting myself to begin floating to the ceiling. I made careful little paces mover to my mirror, warmed by a slight little breeze. For some reason, I felt rather weak, but I couldn't quite work out why. I looked at myself in the mirror as I always did. I had an air of cleanliness I wasn't used to; a glow about my skin that made it seem so unnatural. Oh that's right, I thought. I'm dreaming. I poked curiously at my cheek. It was soft and much more plump than I recall. I looked down at what I was wearing: a light, springy dress with soft hues of yellows and greens and pinks. It was frilly and light and absolutely stunning. I allowed myself to gag. When would I, even in my right mind, wear something like this? Again, I remind myself its only a dream.
That's when I notice it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sigh of the thing, laying ever so daintily upon my small dresser that my mirror was perch above. I picked it up ever so cautiously, as if it might bite me. It was a rose. A blood-red, thornless, beautiful little rose. Funny, I think. I don't even like roses... Why would I be dreaming about them? Then again, I never dreamt I was in my room, a prisoner of the Capitol, with the cars zooming and honking on the streets below my balcony...
My blacony! Why hadn't I noticed before? The ajar door, the slight breeze in my room! I crept over and peaked outside. There stood President Snow, hands held behind his back in a formal-like fashion. I try to creep away when his voice makes me freeze.
"Glad to see you up and about finally, Thirteen. Your friend and I have missed you at mealtimes."
Slowly, I inch out onto the balcony and stand a wary pace behind him. "How long have I been asleep...?"
"Three days," he answers, as if the number were insignificant.
But it's not. Three days. The reaping's had begun.
"It's your big interview in a few hours." He finally looked at me. I allowed myself to look into his eyes, allow myself to get trapped, but for some reason, I'm not trapped, and his eyes shined dully with what I could only explain as pride.
I could tell he expected a response. "Oh...." was all I said, my voice a hushed murmur.
He took a gentle hold on my shoulders and straightened them. "Chin up, eyes bright." He instructed.
Those four simple words brought me back. To when I was little. A little girl in a strange world as a prisoner of the Capitol. President Snow had given me speaking lessons. Instructed me on stage performance. Taught me how to please a crowd like a small, mindless dog.
I lifted my chin and erased any emotion from my eyes, leaving them smiling.
"Big smiles." He said. I gave him a dazzling smile full of good humor and pleasure.
I saw the tiniest twitch of his mouth that was his equivalent to the expression on my face. I felt that pang again, heard that little voice. Did this man really despise me as much as I convinced myself he did? I tried to push away the thought that he might actually be fond of me, but it wouldn't stay subdued.
"They'll love you." He says as almost an afterthought as he gave me one last look over.
It's that little comment that I use to shove down the thought of him being fond of me. By "They'll love you", I know he means when I'm fighting for my life in the arena.
He turns and begins to escort me to my interview. It was customary for the President's favorite of the District 13 tributes for the year to sit and watch the reapings live with Reedmore Dolly, the puffy-lipped, comical-faced talk show host of the Hunger Games. I was almost glad it was me President Snow chose to have be interviewed. For as much as I accepted my fate in the Hunger Games, I wasn't about to go down without causing as much trouble as I could. I was almost positive I could get the Capitol audience to like me, to be one of their favorites. I was going to play these games like it was possible for me to win.
My dazzling smile became more of a dark, smug, scheming smirk. Let the games begin, resident Snow. Let the games begin.