I wake up irritable and exhausted. Probably because I was tortured all last night with images of Sardinia repeatedly beating my over the head with a curling iron. Or the fact that I'm a contestant in a twisted game in which 23 people are killed solely for the pleasure of a city of freaks whose main goal in life seems to be to figure out how little food they can give someone without letting them starve. That could be it too. No matter what the cause is for my uncharacteristic crankiness, I'm going to have to brighten up. The Capital citizens have an unhealthy tendency to kill people who don't like them - oops, wait, that little trick won't work on me! I'm already going to die! Yippee.
I sigh and walk towards my closet, hitting my arm on my bed in the process. But the cringe I make is nothing compared to the scowl that twists my face when I see the outfit that I'm going to have to wear.
The pants aren't too bad. Black and stretchy, they look like something that could almost pass for suitable attire in District Eleven. But the shirt... Well, it's sparkly. And pink. And insribed on the back, in rhinestones, are the words "District Eleven RULEZ!!" That's right. "Rulez".
Apparently they let Aurelia pick out the tribute outifts this year.
I sulk to the elevator and press the "Ground floor" button. The world whizzes by as I descend down to the dining room. When I get there, I can see that everybody is already there. I must have woken up late.
I'm about halfway along the room-length buffet table when I realize that everyone except for Aurelia is staring at me. I look at them confusedly. Tarragon is the one who speaks first.
"One word, Rue: Ew." I sigh. I should have prepared myself for this. I take a deep breath.
"Okay, Tarragon. I'm really sorry that I washed the hair relaxer out. I didn't know that taking a shower would wash it from my hair, and, like I said, I'm really sorry. I bet I could actually go to my prep team after breakfast and ask them to put it in my hair, and I bet I'd still be on time for training and I promise this won't happen again I'm really really-" Tarragon cuts off my rambling.
"No. I am not talking about your exotic hair style. I think it gives you... flair." He would. "I am talking about this... monstrosity that you are currently wearing." He gestures to the rhinestones adorning my shirt. "These not-even-semi-precious stones are so... yesterday. You need to change." I nod in agreement. Aurelia is off at some meeting right now, so she doesn't have a chance to be mad. And I'm more than happy to change out of this. I nod once more, and begin to eat my bacon.
"NOW!" Tarragon barks. I sigh and begin to walk up to my room, when Aurelia waltzes into the dining hall.
"Oh, Rue!" She exclaims, "You look simply darling! Oh, and those rhinestones do add so much of a positive touch, don't you think, Tarragon?" Tarragon looks like he wants vomit all over my "simply darling" rhinestone shirt, but he responds to her question with a pained nod. I guess we all have people who we're forced to agree with.
Aurelia checks her watch - which is rhinestone-studded- and gasps.
"Rue! You have to go to the Training Center! Oh my, it seems like you're going to be late! Well, come along, come along, no, you can't finish your breakfast, there will always be lunch, you know!" She chirps. Aurelia then proceeds to drag me to the elevator, with me still trying to finish up my last bit of toast. She punches the "TC" button, which I assume willa take us to the training center, and then begins to lecture me about how just because I'm a guest at the Capital doesn't mean that I can expect special treatment, and it certainly doesn't mean that I can be late. I don't say anything while she's yelling, but I laugh to myself when we get off the elevator and run into Aurelia's boss who reprimands her for being late to her meeting this morning. After that, we both keep quiet.
Aurelia silently points to the door that leads to the Training Center. It's big and steel, and looks like it weighs about a thousand pounds, but somehow I manage to push it open easily. Once the door is open, I can see the variety of people that are already there. We may all come from the same country, but we definitely look different. There's the girl from Twelve, who has slightly tanned skin and long chestnut hair, and her district partner who is almost the polar opposite of her- blond hair and pale skin. The male tribute from District 5, the only southern district besides 11 and 4 has dark skin like mine, but the girl has bright red hair and flesh as pale as the tributes from District 3 - the chilliest district. As for the trainer from the Capital- well, she doesn't even look human, so it's hard to compare her to the other tributes.
After the Capital lady finishes explaining even the most self-explanatory stations to us (Do you really need to explain what we do at the knot-tying station?), I head off to the spear-throwing area. I have pretty good aim, and even though I'm not as strong as Thresh, it's not like I won't be able to even lift the spear. Unfortunately, I'm not really paying attention to where I'm going. Which is why, instead of taking the long route to the back of the long line that's forming to get a change to throw a spear, I take the shortcut. Which happens to go right in front of the target. And it just so happens that the boy from Two happens to be throwing his spear right then and there. Seeing your life flash before your eyes can be very disturbing and nerve-wracking, and I do not recommend it if you are pregnant, have chronic back pains, or take certain medications that may have a negative impact on your health. Or if you are rather prone to passing out. Like me.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how, for the second and for what had better be the last time in my Hunger Games career, I fainted.
Author's Note: Hi! I'm sorry I haven't updated this recently (It's been at least 3 weeks, right? Ugh) I'd love to have some elaborate excuse, but I don't. Other than the fact that I suck :)
So... anyhoo, my computer still isn't back from California, but I realized that that's no excuse for me not to write, so I'm making a deadline anyway... and that deadline is... *drumroll* October 20th!
Thank you for reading! (Unless you're one of those people who just scroll down the page to read the Author's Note. :D)
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Little Flower-The Hunger Games from Rue's Point of View
FanfictionThere's only one victor in the game that Rue is chosen to play. And when the odds never seem to be in your favor, sometimes the only option for a sweet, tiny girl is to show that even the littlest of flowers can have thorns. This is a hunger games...
