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❝ trouble sleeping, ❞
❝ restless dreaming. ❞
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
AS SOON AS HAYMITCH sits down at the dinner table, I remark the absence of my district partner's usual trail.
"Where's Peeta?" I demand, curiosity laced in my tone.
"He's in his room. Now listen, tomorrow's the last day, and they let us work with our tributes, so you and Effie will be going down at 9:00." my mentor responds, his hand already reaching for the whiskey-filled cup sitting in front of him.
"Well, what about him?" I ask, clearly hinting at Peeta Mellark.
"He says he wants to be trained on his own from now on..." Haymitch sighs, avoiding my gaze.
This answer causes my eyebrows to shoot up, not having expected for my partner to wish for our separation before the games even started.
"What?" I mutter, a swirl of betrayal and confusion moving through my body. I had seen Peeta as an ally, even as a friend during these last few days, and his demand to be trained separately causes my heart to ache.
"This kind of thing does happen at this point. There's only one winner right?" Haymitch states, shrugging simultaneously.
I stare at my plate, playing with my fork, embarrassed that I felt so betrayed by Peeta's recent decisions. He was being logical, thinking ahead for the games.
Instead, I was being distracted, appreciating our friendship. It was ignorant of me to actually forget the fact that it would all be over soon.
"We should have some chocolate-covered strawberries!" Effie interjects, trying to diffuse the very clear tension.
No matter how delightful that desert sounded, I couldn't help but shudder at the prospect that the games were indeed a step away. Reality was seeping in, and I had been too distracted about forming a strong image of myself to realise what was truly waiting for me at the end of the road.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━EFFIE'S HELP ...
Effie and I head to my room and she puts me in a full-length gown and high-heeled shoes. She spends what feels like hours teaching how to look at the crowd, how to smile, and worst of all, how to walk into these horrendous shoes.
At the end, I slump back down onto a chair, sighing exhaustedly as Effie stands behind me, repeating any last pieces of advice.
"Well, that's the best I can do." Effie finishes with a similar sigh, gently stroking my chestnut hair, "Just remember, you want them to like you."
