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I started writing a long version of Emmi-Belle's story, and thought I would post it here, so we can use it as for the collaboration. 
Emmi-Belle:
I watch as birds fly across the sky, all chirping in delight as they soar freely over our horizons. I stand there, in the sunlight, staring at the stage, where two glass bowls sit.
Although today seems bright and sunny, deep inside I know today couldn’t be more grey. The day of the Reaping is nothing to be taken lightly, the severity of it only reaching me now. I don’t want to be here.
As I hug the velvet rope surrounding me and the other sixteen year olds, I look over to Tyran, and smile.
Tyran is my generous, most beautiful boyfriend, and I am so fortunate to have him. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be standing here right now. When I seeked refuge from my older sister and her child, Tyran welcomed me into his family with open arms. I have lived with him and his family happily now for over a year, and everything seems so perfect. Nothing could spoil the pure warmth I feel.
Until the Capitol official bounds onto the stage.
Remora is like any other peppy escort, but she has seem many more years than any of us. She looks odd in her earthy green frocks, but that is nothing compared to what the poor tributes have to face every year.
As the mayor sits after reeling his entire speech to us, Remora jumps onto the stage and looks at the glistening glass bowls.
“Welcome everybody to the thirtieth annual Hunger Games! It was such a fantastic game last year, and I cannot wait to meet our brave new tributes!”
I roll my eyes, as she babbles on. The way she is talking is only high-lightening my shallow nerves. I fiddle with my fingers uncomfortably, as Remora steps towards the female Reaping bowl.
“Best of luck, to all children.” She says with a smile. Although it was meant as a warm gesture, I can’t help but feel a malicious streak break through.
Slowly, Remora holds a piece of paper in her hands. Slugglishly, she opens the name, and reads it aloud to Panem.
“Everyone, I would like to welcome District nine’s female tribute for the thirtieth Hunger Games. Pippy Ralin!” She shouts gleefully.
My heart crumbles as I turn to face Tyran. He is in a phase of shock, the horror still plainly lit over his features. Then I see poor little Pippy stepping out of the twelve year old section, and drag herself to the stage.
Poor Pippy is Tyran’s little sister, who he cares for. I’ve come to care for her, too. Before I can put a reasonable thought in my head, I feel myself pushing my way through the crowd, and running up to the stage.
“I volunteer! I volunteer!” I shout, as I race in front of Pippy.
Pippy lets a tear slip from her eyes, as Tyran appears to take her away. I bravely stand up, and make my way towards the stage. Remora places her hand on her hips, and gestures to a seat.
“May I ask your name?” She asks politely.
I can still hear the menacing voice behind her kind façade, but I ignore it.
“I am Emmi-Belle Hansmen.” I say monotonously.
Thw world blurs around me, as Remora talks about me. My sacrifice. My untimely doom. I sit there, as rigid as a plank of wood, while Remora selects the male tribute.
“Cyrus O’Keefe!” She hollers.
I look out into the sea of people, and see a boy, Cyrus, stand. He is tall, lean, and masculine, with messy dark brown locks. What strikes me most are his eyes, a deep blue, the colour of the ocean.
He steps towards the stage, and plonks onto the seat next to me. I try to muster a smile, but he shoots me a vicious glance, and turns away. Frightened, I ignore him, and sit through the rest of the ceremony.
Once it comes to a wrap, Remora ushers us into the Justice building. I sit on the leather couch, and hold the velvet pillow in my hands. Cyrus hesitantly sits next to me, and we both look up to Remora expectantly.
“All your loved ones will see you in a minute.” She says. “For now, sit here while we get your rooms organised.”
With that, Remora bounds off down the hall, hidden from sight. I look at Cyrus meekly, as he stares into space, into nothing. Feeling extremely awkward, I talk to him.
“So, you’re Cyrus, right?” I ask.
“What do you want to know?” He snaps.
I am taken aback, his sudden cruelty shocking me. Then I think how stupid he is, because he just lost an ally.
“Your rooms are ready. Emmi-Belle, please follow me.” Remora says, appearing from nowhere.
I jump in shock, as she appears in front of me. I take the hint, and follow her to my room. I turn only briefly to catch a glimpse of Cyrus, looking so sullen and hostile. I wonder who would want to visit him.
Remora opens a glass door, and I enter and sit at the metal table. Although the furnishings are average, the décor and walls are most certainly not. The walls are a precious ruby red, with strips of silver reflecting over the room. I see a statue in the corner of the room, and an odd looking pot plant.
Remora shuts the door behind her, and I sit nervously at my seat. I wait, hoping someone would come. Down the hall, I hear the pitter patter of footsteps heading towards me. I sit up straighter, and try to look more composed than I actually am. I see a figure grasp the door, and push it open to see me. In the doorway, I see my twenty six year old sister Lavender, and her young daughter Tyfinni walk in. Lavender sits down on the chair, and Tyfinni perches herself on her lap.
“Oh Emmi-Belle, you are so selfless. All of District Nine are in awe of you.” She says solemnly.
“Well, all I did was say a few words. When the Games starts is when I am more concerned.” I add lightly, in my faint attempts of making a joke.
Lavender avoids my gaze, making me feel uncomfortable. I am saddened to see that Lavender and I are not close, yet we are the closest thing we will ever have to a family. Both of our parents died. Mother passed away not too long ago, of a disease no one knew she contracted. But father, his story was more complicated. Basically, he left mother for another lady, and they used to meet in the crops and forests surrounding the district. Of course, it’s illegal, so one day, when the two went into the forest, they never resurfaced. I don’t know if the Peacekeepers caught them, if they ran deep into the woods and live there, or they are running away, in fear. I don’t want to know the answer.
Lavender clears her throat, as she takes my hand.
“You are strong, Emmi-Belle. You can win the Hunger Games.” She says, with a weak smile.
“Good luck!” Tyfinni chirps through the gap in her teeth.
Of course, she is too young to know what the Hunger Games are, and how very torturous and dangerous they are. But it is best to keep her in the dark until she is older. Much older.
“Love you Em.” Lavender says, as the Peacekeeper at the door motions for her to leave.
“Love you too, Lavender. Bye Tyfinni.” I say, trying to muffle my tears.
The pair hesitantly get up and move slowly out of the room. Before I know what to do, I am left in complete loneliness once again. I wipe away the tear, as I watch Tyran enter the room.
“Tyran!” I choke, as I run up and catch him in a huge embrace.
“Oh, Emmi.” He says, burrowing his head in my hair.
I pull away, and see his eyes are rimmed in red. I wipe a strand of my black hair out of my eyes, and I watch Tyran as he stares at his shoes.
"Emmi, I could never repay for you have done for my sister and for my family. We are in greatest debt to you."
I look down at my feat, suddenly very embarrassed.
"Have you chosen what you will take into the games with you?" He asks kindly.
I shake my head. When would I have chosen something? And what would I have chosen?
"Here." Tyran says, and hands me a small package.
I take it, and open the delicate white wrapping.
Inside the box I find a necklace, with a delicate, golden heart in the middle. I look up at Tyran, admiring the necklace.
"Tyran, I... Wow. This would have cost so much! You didn't have to do this for me."
"Well, it didn't actually cost us anything. It is a family heirloom, my great grandfather brought it for my great grandmother."
I look at the shining locket in my hand, and look back up at Tyran.
"I can't take this from you. This is much too valuable. I could never take something this important to you."
"Well," Tyran says, "If it makes you feel better, you can give it back to me after you've won the Hunger Games."
I shake my head.
"I mightn't come back." I say, worried.
"Keep the necklace. It is from our entire family to thank you for what you've done for Pippy. And the second reason you must keep it is because, Emmi, I love you."
I smile, and I kiss him. The kiss is short lived, but it gives me something to hold onto.
“Thanks Tyran. For everything.” I say, smiling, as the Peacekeeper comes in and takes him away.
They walk out of the room, and I completely lose it. I fall to the ground, as tears streak my face. My throat tightens at what is to come, but what I hate most is everything I will miss, and everyone I am leaving behind. It’s all too much to handle.
I sit up, as the tears subside. I try to compose myself, and try to calm myself. I get up from the heap on the ground, just as Remora bounces into the room.
“Why Emmi-Belle, it’s okay darling! But come, we are leaving now.”
I gingerly follow her out of the room, and meet her and Cyrus in the hall. Considering the traumatic experience I just had, Cyrus seems unscathed. He appears as normal, expressionless and angered.
Remora and a mob of Peacekeepers escort us out the door, and into the deserted city streets. Remora prods us along, trying to make us move along faster.
Finally, we arrive at the Train station, where a luxurious train sits. Before I can shield myself, a flurry of cameramen jump out and start pointing their cameras in our faces.
I shy away from the camera, as Cyrus ignores them altogether, pretending they are not there. Seeing him like that, acting strong when no one else can, brings me hope, and something I thought I had lost eternally: courage. I find myself standing taller, and adding a smile to my face. The cameras click and flash in my direction, as I stride past them and onto the train. Remora follows in behind us, and slams the door shut.
Remora smiles, that sick insincere smile of hers, and points behind us.
“Cyrus, Emmi-Belle, there is someone you should meet.”
We turn swiftly, to find a young lady standing in front of us. She wears jeans and a brown jacket, and her hair glows red. Instantly, I know who she is.
“You are Dayna, you are our mentor.” I say dumbly.
She nods, and shakes our hands.
“Yes, I’m Dayna, and I will be happy to help you two succeed in the Hunger Games.”
I nod, while Cyrus stands there, his arms crossed. I look back to Remora, hoping she has another job for us to do. I don’t want to be left alone with these strangers.
“You better be off to it,” Remora chirps, “I have Capitol business to attend to.”
With that, Remora’s heels click on the floor until they become a distant thud on the other half of this carriage.
I turn my gaze to Dayna, who rubs her hands together.
“Now, let’s talk strengths.”
She sits down on the leather couches, positioned near the window. I take it as my cue to sit down, and lazily, Cyrus follows.
“So, Emmi-Belle, what are your strengths?” Dayna asks quizzically.
I hesitate for a moment, not entirely sure what my strength is. Finally, I think of a suitable trait to feed Dayna.
“I’m a good runner. I have a pretty broad knowledge of plants, and I know how to use a knife.” I say seriously.
She nods, in thought, and turns to Cyrus, who still hasn’t said a word to her.
“So Cyrus, what are you good at?”
“I’m a hunter. So I’m good with all weapons and traps and stuff.” He says gruffly.
She nods thoughtfully, stroking her temples. “Now, although strengths are important, there is one more thing with more importance. It is the thing I will be teaching you most on. And that is your weaknesses.”
I sit on the couch, watching another tribute piercing a spear right through their heart. I flinch, and look away. Cyrus scoffs besides me. I ignore him, as Dayna dully adds notes about motives, traps and other things. After our brief talking session, I have realised I am afraid of Cyrus. He knows too much now, he couls easily hurt me. Cyrus widens his eyes when another tribute throws a mace into another’s head. I stifle a scream, and try not to think about the fact that will be me in a matter of days.
“OK kids, I think I’ve worked you hard enough today.”
I pull myself into a tight ball, and rock myself back and forwards, while Cyrus sits there, frozen, his mouth agape.
Dayna switches the television off, and leaves the room.
“Session over.”
About time, I think. As I get up, Cyrus stays motionless on the couch. I ignore him, as I sweep past and sit on a couch in the lounge area. I pick a seat next to the window, and I sit there watching blurs of green flash by. I sit there numbly, thinking of the other tributes. Should I try to make allies? Although it would bring me to a great advantage, it would be harder to break apart, and ultimately kill them. I couldn’t bring myself to do that.
As I sit there, Cyrus emerges from the other room, his hair spiking in all directions. He looks straight at me, his eyes connecting with mine. The intensity of his stare pushes me backwards, and he alters his gaze, looking forward. Suddenly, he stops in his tracks, and just stands there.
I get up and stand next to him, trying to make sure everything is alright.
“Trying to practise your strut for the Capitol?” I ask sarcastically.
He snaps his head to me, his liquid blue eyes glaring at me.
“I don’t need to hear stupid theories from a stupid girl.”
“Stupid? I’m a stupid girl? You are treating this like a game, Cyrus, and you are trying to manipulate all the pieces. But guess what? I’m not falling for it. I can’t believe I have to spend so much time with you.” I seethe, as I storm off.
Stupid girl. He thinks I’m a stupid girl? Well, he is a stupid boy, because he just made a stupid mistake.
I storm down the hall, and slam the door shut. I face the wardrobe, and go through everything. I pick out a pale blue shirt and black shorts, slip them on, and fall into bed. I wrap the blankets tightly around me, as I think of all the people who will try and kill me. I try to erase the thought, as I slowly seep into unconsciousness.
I wake to find the sun pouring in through my window. I yawn, and raise my hands in the air. I get out of bed, and groggily make my way down the hall, into the dining room. I stand there, as I see the table is stripped bare of all food. Then Remora gasps when she enters the room.
“Emmi-Belle! We will be in the Capitol in twenty minutes. Get ready now!” She shouts.
I obey, and walk back down the hall. I enter the room, and see a pile of clothes has been placed on the bed. I look at them, then look away in disgust.
The clothes are so pink. The dress is short, and the heels are ridiculously large. I stare at the clothes in disbelief, and run down the hall.
At the door, I meet Dayna, who examines me with a worried look.
“Emmi-Belle, you have to get ready!”
“Not with clothes like these.” I say, clearly repulsed.
She laughs, then shoves the clothes back at me. “It’s that, or nothing. Your choice.”
I storm down the hall, when I see Cyrus. He is fully dressed, in a white shirt, black vest, and dress pants.
I give him a dirty look, as I brush past him, and slam my door shut.
Whenever I am near Cyrus, his bad energy always seeps into me. Like his awful personality is contagious. I angrily shove the disgusting clothes on, and try to pull a brush through my hair. When I am satisfied enough, I walk into the lounge, where Dayna and Cyrus wait.
“Emmi-Belle? You don’t look bad at all.” Dayna says happily.
“No,” I agree, “I look worse.”
I see Cyrus grin, and I give him one of my foulest looks. “Can I change?” I plea.
“Too late.” Dayna says, as the train rolls to a stop.
I sigh, as the doors roll open, and Dayna shoves through the cameramen. I smile every once and a while, and Dayna finally bursts through as she shoves the two of us into a car.
“You two are going off to get styled for the opening ceremony tonight.” Dayna says, “Good luck.”
Good luck indeed. I just hope the Capitol likes human lollypops.
The door shuts behind us, and the driver directs us to our Stylists. We get out of the car, and I see some of the other tributes making their way to their stylists. I can’t help but think things like ‘I could kill you,’ ‘you would kill me’, or ‘we could be allies’.
The thought saddens me, as I walk glumly through the halls, until a Stylist bounds out from nowhere.
“Hello kids! I am Pennyweather, your stylist, but you can call me Peni.” She adds with a laugh.
I back away a little, her voice so loud and high. She takes my hand, and looks back over to Cyrus.
“Over there is your stylist, get acquainted, and you will look fabulous!” Peni exclaims.
A male figure emerges, and leads Cyrus into another room. I follow Peni as she skips down the hall, into her station. I look at Peni, seeing her fluffy pink hair, her pink dress, her pink shoes. And the pink tattoo spiralled across her face.
“You chose this outfit for me, didn’t you?” I ask her, when she sits me down at her table.
“Yes I did, I’m glad you noticed! Do you like it?” She asks innocently.
I can’t bring myself to tell her the truth, that this outfit is truly horrible. Instead, I nod, and thank her. Then I begin to worry that my Opening Ceremony outfit will be somewhat similar to this.
I lay down, as Peni and her team of stylists rid me of all marks and bruises, cuts and hair. I cringe, as they start to pluck my eyebrows. Finally, Peni emerges with a table full of cosmetics and hair products. She raises the seat, and looks me straight in the eye.
“You are going to look beautiful.” She says, as she picks up some lipstick.
She slathers my face with lipstick, eyeliner, foundation, lip gloss, and a flurry of other cosmetics I don’t know of. When she completes my face, she moves up to my hair. She puts in pins, and sprays my hair with hairspray. After adding her final touches, she smiles at me, and gives me a mirror.
I look down at my face, hardly recognisable now. My eyes are rimmed gold, with long black eyelashes. My lips are bronze, and my face is slightly lighter than it was before. My hair is put upward into a bun, and the pins in my hair gleam in the mirror.
“Wow.” I state in amazement.
Peni disappears for a moment, and reappears with a dress bag. Peni slips the dress out of her bag, and I hug the garment in my hands. I see the white top half, and the bottom half of the dress, reaching my knees, is golden, with small sequins and lots of sparkles. Peni helps slip the dress over my body, and I slip on the black flats on the ground.
“There, beautiful.” She adds, bowing to her silent applause.
I marvel at myself in the mirror, as the dress falls gently down my side. I am amazed. And I am so glad she didn’t dress me in pink.
She ushers me out of the stylist room, and I find myself standing in the hall. Suddenly, a door creaks open, and Cyrus walks out. His hair is perfectly smoothed, his black pants and vest are nothing compared to the shirt he wears underneath, which glistens and glows a pure gold. He has no makeup on, for that, I am envious.
I see Cyrus stop in his tracks when his eyes meet me. His pupils dilate, and his body stiffens. In my mind, I am wondering what I did to make him hate me so much. Does this sight repulse him that much?
“Come now, we must get you prepared for the chariot ride!” Peni squeals.
I suppress a sigh, as Peni drags Cyrus and I through a maze of corridors, until we are met with the stable. Inside sits our chariot, and Dayna stands there, chatting to some of the other mentors.
She says farewell when we come into sight, and clasps her hands together.
“You two look amazing! Follow me, let’s get you two set up.” She says.
We trail close behind, as Peni watches us move. Cyrus jumps onto the chariot, as I start to climb up. Then in the corner of my eye, I see two tributes, not sure which ones they are, as they chat and hold each other’s hand as they climb the chariot. They smile, and through their eyes, I can see they are happy.
Then I turn to Cyrus, surprised to see his deep blue eyes trained on me. My breathing becomes irregular, and suddenly I feel there is nothing here but Cyrus and I. The connection is weird, but when Cyrus looks away, a feeling tugs at me, upset his gaze is gone. Confused, I stumble onto the chariot, and hold the railing for support.
“Now you two, smile. Seem happy. I don’t want you two to play any angles, be your true selves, but try and act friendly.” Dayna says, trying to be optimistic.
I try to take her advice, while Cyrus continues to stare at the doors in front of us.
Behind us, we hear a voice letting us know we are about to come out.
“5, 4, 3, 2, 1.” The mechanical voice drones, then the doors fly open.
Our chariot jumps forward, and the crowds burst into applause. I attempt a smile, and look over the crowds. I give a small wave here and there, while Cyrus stands there. I look closely at him, and see he has a lopsided smile. Then I realise that I like it.
Ignoring that thought, I continue to smile for the cameras, and wave. I feel the bun above my head feel heavy, suddenly worried that the bun will fall out. Although I know it won’t, I do something that Peni will kill me for later.
I pull out my bun.
The hair tie falls to the ground, and my jet black hair falls down my back, and starts to sway in the wind. The crowd breaks into a larger applause, and I manage to grab some flowers someone threw at me. I place the yellow rose in my hair, and place the other golden rose in a pocket in Cyrus’ shirt, visible to the world.
Cyrus turns to me, and I meet his gaze. For once, he doesn’t look mad. He actually looks happy. He looks down, then takes my hands, and he raises our hands into the air.
The crowd go crazy, as our spontaneous act is broadcast all throughout Panem. I let out a huge smile, and I see that Cyrus is smiling too. Before we know it, our chariot pulls back into the stable, where I find Peni glaring at me.
“How dare you defy my work! I invested so much time into that bun…”
“What a show!” Dayna says, as she claps her hands.
“Truly spontaneous. Everyone is talking about the selfless girl from District Nine, and how she has defied odds and befriended her fellow tribute. “
I look down at my shoes, not knowing what to do and how to accept this compliment.
Two cars appear, to take all of the tributes to the Training Centre. We stand there for a moment, before Cyrus jumps angrily from his chariot.
“Emmi-Belle this, Emmi-Belle that, I’m sick of it. Being compared to some little girl is torture. I still exist too, you know.” He shouts.
My mouth hangs agape as Cyrus pushes past all the other tributes and jumps in one of the cars. My heart starts to clench, and I feel guilt wash over me. Then I feel stupid. Cyrus is just an attention seeker, nothing more. I don’t want anything to do with him.
“I think it would be best you went in the other car.” Dayna says cautiously.
I take her advice, and slip into the other car, as it drives us to the Training Centre. When I jump out of the car, I meet Dayna and an annoyed Cyrus at the door. When I reach them, the three of us walk into the Training Centre. I stop in amazement, looking at the beautiful décor. An elevator drops in front of us, and opens the door. We walk and, and Dayna presses the number nine. We fly upward, and I clutch the walls as the elevator lifts us up high. We stop suddenly, and I feel myself wobble out of the elevator.
“This is your new home for the next few days, make the most of it.” Dayna says, as we look at the lavish room. My first sight is of the dining room table, set out with food and beverages, and plates for us to use.
“Eat up!” A voice says behind us.
I jump to find Remora standing there, looking at the table. We all sit down, and I start nibbling on some roast pork.
“What an opening ceremony! You two definitely made an impression.” Remora says, attempting to start conversation.
“All unscripted.” Dayna says, sipping on a steaming broth.
I look over at the table to see Cyrus pushing vegetables around on his plate. His bread sits next to him, and the rich sauce slathered on the plate sits there untouched.
“What’s wrong, Cyrus?” Remora asks.
I hear Dayna stamp on Remora’s foot, and I try to keep a straight face.
“I miss my dad.” He says solemnly.
I hear Dayna breathe a sigh of relief. I munch on my last bite of roast, and look over the table.
“At least you have family.” I say.
He looks up at me, and both Dayna and Remora send me sympathetic looks. It makes me think of home, and what I left behind. Although Lavender didn’t want me, she is still my family. But now I have Tyran, Pippy, and their parents. They have basically adopted me into the family, an utmost price I will never be able to repay. I look down at my meal, and find the plate gleaming white.
“I’m going to bed now. I’m tired.” I say.
“Night, Emmi-Belle.” Cyrus whispers as I pass.
I look at him in surprise, judging his kind look. I brush it off, but I am polite back.
“Good night, Cyrus.”
I make my way down the hall, and turn into my room. The first thing I do is peel off this dress, and leave it as a heap on the floor. I take out a long blue sports shirt, and pull it tight over my body. Seeing the shirt reaches my knees, I decide to wear it as a nightgown. But I put on shorts anyway, that are hidden underneath the nightgown. I walk into my bathroom, and scrub away all of my makeup. I watch as all the black and gold swirl around in the sink, and descend down the drain. I take the pins out of my hair, too tired to wash out the hairspray.
I exit the bathroom and snuggle myself into the bed. Before I drift to sleep, on my bedside table is a white box. Instantly I know that inside rests Tyran’s gift, my token. I take the necklace out of the box, kiss the heart gently, and out it back on the table, moments before I fall asleep.
I wake up, and walk down the hall where I find a table of breakfast treats. I eat some waffles covered in maple syrup, and drink on a hot beverage called ‘Hot Chocolate’. I savour the dish, and once I finish, I head back down to my room, and find a black outfit sitting there. Hesitantly, I put it on, and see the black suit on my body, with one thin golden stripe down the side. I take a hair tie from the bathroom, and tie my hair into a side pony tail that falls down my body, underneath my face. I smile when I realise this has become my signature style. I walk back down the hall, and see Dayna standing there, looking at the clock.
“Where is Cyrus? How long does it take to get a suit on… Emmi-Belle!” She says.
I walk up next to her, and wait by the door.
“Remember, don’t show your true talent. Keep it hidden. Save it for your private session.” I nod, when Cyrus appears down the hall.
He wears a suit just like mine, but I can’t see any difference, but his looks more masculine. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t want to find out.
“Good luck!” Dayna says, as an elevator arrives to take us away. We both step inside, and Dayna presses a button. The second her arm is out of the elevator, the door slams shut, and plummets to the bottom floor.
The doors squeak open, and we find ourselves in the training centre. Half of the tributes are already here, chatting up future allies, destroying dummies. I watch as Cyrus heads for a sword station, while I loiter around the traps station.
The instructor tells me how to do the most basic traps, and when I complete those, she teaches me more difficult ones.
I notice as I carefully fabricate each trap that each tribute doesn’t stay at any station long enough to learn anything. When everyone else is onto their fifth station, I am leaving the first.
I look at all the big weapon stations, and avoid them. I find myself at a speed station, with an obstacle course that we have to complete in a set time. I poise myself, and when I am instructed to go, I bolt down the track. I cross the finish line moments before time out, and the lady gives me some small exercises to do to improve my strength. When I finish that, the training session ends, and I walk with the crowd of other tributes to the elevator. When I enter the elevator, I see Cyrus alone in the corner. A tribute brushes past me, and sniggers when I recoil at their touch. I ignore them, and slam my hand on the big nine button.
After the District Eight tributes walk off, the elevator shoots upwards, and drops us off. We get out, and meet Dayna and Remora at the door. They quiz us on a lot of things, but I ignore them all, and walk into my room, and straight into the shower. As the water pulses on my body, I select a simple hair clean, as it untangles my knots, and leaves my hair smelling of strawberries.
I put some clothes back on, and join the others at the table, ready for dinner.
We eat in silence, as we all munch on the delicious food laid on the table. I finish, and leave them all at the table and I walk out to the balcony. I watch the Capitol, and all the gleaming lights. I my hands hang over the edge, as I stand there, deep in thought. My eyes race over the city, and I still haven’t come to terms with my doomed fate.
I hear the door open behind me, and I see Cyrus. I am completely surprised, as he looks remotely happy. I thought he hated me.
“Hi.” He says quietly.
“Hi.” I repeat.
He stands next to me, looking over the ledge. He points to a light far off in the distance, and faces me.
“That’s where we will be doing the interviews.” He says.
“Great. I am not looking forward to that. May as well kill myself to escape that pain.” I add lightly.
I am taken aback when Cyrus laughs, and turns back to the lights shining in the moonlight.
“I’ve been dreading that moment since-“ He starts to say, but I interrupt him.
“Forever?” I ask.
“No. I was going to say since the Reaping, but I guess always sounds better.”
I look at him weirdly, and I correct him.
“I said forever. I thought it was hard to confuse…” I start to say.
“Forever and always.” We both say in unison.
I turn away, embarrassed. I move a thread of my hair out of my face, when Cyrus starts to walk away.
“Bye, Em…mi-Belle.”
“Sweet dreams, Cyrus.”
He disappears into the room, and I watch where he left. And feel a weird tingling feeling inside.
We all sit in anticipation in front of the television. I fiddle with my fingers, as my name and picture pops up. Under my name, a nine surfaces.
“Nine, that’s a great score, well done!” Dayna says, patting my back.
After that, Cyrus and his picture pop up, and the number nine too falls underneath.
“Two nines from district nine!” Remora chirps beside us.
I suppress the urge to roll my eyes, but when I glance at Cyrus, I see he craved into that urge.
I think back to my training session, and how I earned that nine. I did a lot of knife work, and I managed to decapitate a dummy. I felt really bad about it, but the Gamemakers must have gotten a kick from it.
I hear the door thud, and Peni bounds inside. Now, time to make you two shine!” She says.
I groan. Dayna kicks me in the leg. I stand, and Cyrus follows. Peni leads us downstairs, and into a car, which takes us to a room where she starts to prepare me.
Cyrus goes with his stylist, and I go with mine. Peni leads me into a room, and immediately starts with my makeup. I am glad when she keeps it to a minimum, and she does my hair. She pauses, and turns to me, looking me in the eye.
“You know what? I have gone for a natural look here, and to make it more natural. Do you want to wear your hair in your signature side pony tail?” She asks.
I nod so furiously my neck starts to hurt.
She immediately starts to pull my hair through a hair tie, and adds a golden clip to it, to make it more professional.
I look at my face in the mirror, and am happy with what I see. Basically, she has made everything natural, but it all seems to gleam and shine.
She nods to her desk, where I see a gleam of gold. She grabs my dress, a floor length gown covered in small golden jewels. I stare in amazement as the dress, and think about how heavy it must be.
Peni helps me slip into it, and I glance at the mirror, in complete shock. To my amazement, I actually look beautiful.
Seeming satisfied, Peni leads me out into the hall, and we reach a door that leads to the waiting area behind Caesar Flickerman. I watch all the other anxious tributes, adjusting their garments, fixing their hair. I sit in my allocated seat, as Peni disappears. I see the seat next to me is empty, that Cyrus is not here yet. I wait anxiously, until Cyrus strolls into the room. He looks surprisingly casual, wearing dark jeans, a white shirt and a golden tie. He takes the seat next to me, and smiles.
“What an amazing dress. You look really…nice.” He says hastily.
“And you look so debonair.” I add.
Suddenly, Caesar’s booming voice brings us back to reality. He summons the girl from district one out, and starts to interview her. I try to not glance at Peni, the cameras or the audience, afraid the nerves will push me over the edge.
I wait patiently, fiddling with my fingers like I so often do. Finally, I am put out of my misery when I am summoned to the stage.
“Hello Emmi-Belle. Welcome!” Caesar says kindly, pointing to the chair besides him.
I sit down, but not before I twirl, showcasing my dress.
“So Emmi-Belle, tell us about the Reaping. How did that feel, seeing your sister making her way to the stage?”
“Oh, she isn’t my sister. Her name is Pippy, she is my boyfriend’s sister.” I say.
“Wow. Beautiful and selfless. Your boyfriend must be lucky. So, how was that experience for you?” He asks.
“It was hard, and of course, unbelievable. I always thought I would never have to go into the Games, so when I volunteered, I was sacrificing everything for Pippy, but I love her and my boyfriend Tyran, so for me it was the only choice.”
“So, what are your feelings towards the Games at this time?” He asks.
“I’m petrified, of course, but I am more afraid about after the Games. If I do die, there will be so much I will miss out on. My sister was to get married in a few months, and my little niece will grow up without me. I don’t want to leave this life before actually living it.”
The crowd all agree, as I hear a few ‘aw’s and I even hear sobs. I turn back to Caesar, who is ready to finish the interview.
“So, what are your opinions on life here in the Capitol?”
“I find it very interesting. Very luxurious, and pretty. At home, we don’t focus on luxuries, we focus on work. Being here is like a breath of fresh air. Like a long needed vacation. And I thank Panem for that.”
Then I hear my buzzer. Caesar says his kind goodbyes, while I seat myself behind him. Then Cyrus is summoned, and the two banter easily. My cheeks start to burn red when Caesar asks Cyrus a personal question.
“So, what are your thoughts on your fellow tribute, Emmi-Belle?”
I see half of everyone turn to look at me, and the other half turn to Cyrus.
“She is pretty cool. I don’t know how she will go in the Games, but I’m hoping she pulls through. Not that I care.”
Not that I care. The words slap me, and make my cheeks burn even more feverishly. I sit there, angered, for the rest of the interviews.
As Cyrus sits down, I try my hardest to ignore him. The worst thing is, I turn to look at his expression. I realise how much I want to slap him when I see he doesn’t know what he did wrong. I think to myself, what happened to the boy on the balcony?
Everybody is led offstage, and I meet Peni, Remora and Dayna on the side of the stage. Cyrus falls into step behind me, and we look at them both expectantly.
We all walk back to a car, and pile in as it delivers us to the Training Centre.
The car starts up, and out the windows I see everything start to fade.
When the car stops at the Training Centre, I robotically get out, not paying attention. My insides feel numb and hollow, suddenly feeling very bad. We reach our small floor, and I race past everyone and slam the door to my room.
I shove the door shut behind me, as I peel of my dress and undo my hair. I jump into the shower, where I let my defences weaken. I succumb to tears, as they drip down my face. I am partly upset at Cyrus, for the horrible things he said to me both on the train and just now. But what pains me more is the harsh reality: tomorrow I will be in the Hunger Games.
I try to toughen up, push the thought from my mind, but all I can think of is all the people I saw in the training centre, dead. I stop the shower, and feel a burning inside my chest, a fear that consumes me. I know I should eat something put on some weight, but now I know there is no hope I will eat anything. I gingerly put on some pyjamas, and slip into bed.
I stare at the wall, finding sleep eluding me. I didn’t expect to sleep, but I want my mind to become dormant, I want to be rid of the pain stemming through me. By some miracle, I feel the grasp of sleep starting to crawl up on me. Finally, when the moon is at it’s brightest, my eyes lids fall heavy, and shut.
I wake up before the sun has risen from the sky. I know there is no hope that I will get back to sleep, so I walk down the hall, into the kitchen. The table seems plain, there is no food occupying it. To my right, I see a water cooler. I walk up to it, and fill a cup. I sip on the drink, looking out the window, overlooking the Capitol. What I thought was so beautiful nights ago seems old and bitter. I strain my eyes, and I see Cyrus standing on the balcony. I crane my head, and watch him. I want to comfort him, then I remember what he did to me last night. I cannot forgive him, I cannot lose focus. I look closer at Cyrus, and I see his body quaking unnaturally. Then I realise he is crying, when I see a tear drop from his face. I debate whether to talk to him, when he turns, and spots me staring at him through the window. He does a double take, and his eyes burn into me. I step back, dropping the cup of water to the ground. I look from side to side, and run away from the window.
I race into my bedroom, shut the door, and lean against it. I slide onto the floor, and hold myself in a ball. I fight the urge to cry, knowing Peni would be furious with me. I take the opportunity to thoroughly clean myself in the shower, cleaning my hair, and disinfecting my body.
When I get out of the shower, I hug a towel to my body. I enter my room, and I find Cyrus on my bed.
“Ahh!” I scream, as I jump backwards.
I hastily try to cover myself more than the towel, but Cyrus seems unfazed. I try to get my hair to hang over my face, blocking Cyrus’ vision. I see that he is not looking at me, but out the window. The sun is rising, coming through the clouds. It seems like a beautiful day, but it really isn’t.
Cyrus turns to me, and holds a pile of clothes. I snatch them, then lock myself in my bathroom. I quickly put the clothes on, and then meet Cyrus back in my bedroom. He sits there, his dark hair all messy and pointed in all directions. He stands up, and comes up to me.
“Why were you staring at me, Emmi-Belle?” He asks.
“I don’t know. I went to get a drink, and I saw you, and I was trying to figure out what you were doing…” I trail off.
I gaze into Cyrus’ deep blue eyes, unfazed by the red rims that surround it. I feel lost looking into his eyes, confused. Like he has hypnotised me. I stand tall, and look at him.
“Did you hear what I was saying?” He asks cautiously.
“No, I wasn’t eavesdropping! Wait, what were you saying?” I ask.
He shakes his head, and starts to walk out the room. He stops in the doorway, his back to me, as he leans on the framing. He turns his head to me, and his eyes find mine.
“And good luck, Emmi-Belle.” He says stiffly, before he disappears from the door.
And I just stand there, more confused than anything.
Before I move, I see Remora bounce into my room.
“Good, you’re dressed. Come now, we will be escorting you now to the Arena.”
I feel my stomach knot up as Remora directs us down the hall, and to the elevator. She presses the top button, and we reach the roof, where I see a helicopter, and Dayna accompanied by Cyrus.
“Goodbye!” Remora shouts, teary, as Cyrus and I climb the ladder.
When I enter, Dayna slips past me. I walk back to the door. I spot Remora, and lean out of the helicopter.
“Bye Remora, thanks for everything!” I shout, waving, just as the helicopter starting to take off.
Cyrus and I are carted off, and a Capitol person rests me on a table, a needle in his hand.
My eyes widen, and he laughs at my squeamishness.
“It’s just a locator chip, we insert it into you so we can track your movements in the Games.”
I nod, and shut my eyes as he inserts the chip into me. When he is done, he offers me a drink. Seeing as it’s water, I decline the offer. I sit back in a chair, looking at the blacked out windows.
“Why are they blocked?” I ask Dayna, as she sits across from me.
“To prevent you knowing about the Arena before you are in there.” She replies.
Cyrus walks into the room, his skin around his arm burning red. He flops into a chair next to me, and looks at us.
“What?” He snaps.
“Nothing…” I reply hastily.
I hear the helicopter start to descend to the ground. I grip my chair, as we come to a thud to the ground.
Dayna gets up, and puts a blindfold over my eyes.
“What is this for?” Cyrus complains.
“So you can’t see the arena.” She says, as she prods us forwards.
I feel so blind and vulnerable, as Dayna leads us through the maze of halls. Finally, she pushes me into a room. She takes my blindfold off. But instead of seeing Dayna’s face, I am met with Peni’s pink tattoos.
She lays a uniform in front of me, black shirt, green coat, dark pants, boots. What stuns me is the white box sitting on top of the clothes.
“Seriously Emmi-Belle, you always forget your token! Luckily we tipped staff before you all left.” She says.
She hands me the bundle of clothes, and I slip them on, no longer feeling self conscious about my body. Peni helps slide the necklace over my neck, and she ties my hair into my side pony tail.
“Great. You look great.” She says, a bit tearful.
I hug her, knowing she truly needs it. She backs back, and looks me in the eye.
“You can win, Emmi-Belle. I can see your strength. There are great things destined for you.” She says.
Over a speaker system, a countdown begins, starting from sixty. Peni leads me to a silver plate, telling me to stand on it. I do, and suddenly the metal is wrapped in a tube. I cling to the sides, and watch Peni through the glass.
She waves goodbye, as I am lifted upwards.
The plate closes in underneath me, and I start to raise upwards. I gasp for air, when I find myself standing on my plate among all the other tributes. I poise myself on the plate, ready to run into the forest.
I hear the countdown overhead, and pray I don’t do a false start. The voice ticks around me.
5,4,3,2,1
A beeping sound rings out, and I jump off that plate. I ignore all the goods spread around, and push my way through and into the forest. I see someone try to hurl a knife at me, but I duck, and escape into the trees.
Any thoughts? Any improvements? I know it is a lot of writing, considering it is only up to the beginning of the Games, but still, I like writing.
Emmi-Belle:
I watch as birds fly across the sky, all chirping in delight as they soar freely over our horizons. I stand there, in the sunlight, staring at the stage, where two glass bowls sit.
Although today seems bright and sunny, deep inside I know today couldn’t be more grey. The day of the Reaping is nothing to be taken lightly, the severity of it only reaching me now. I don’t want to be here.
As I hug the velvet rope surrounding me and the other sixteen year olds, I look over to Tyran, and smile.
Tyran is my generous, most beautiful boyfriend, and I am so fortunate to have him. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be standing here right now. When I seeked refuge from my older sister and her child, Tyran welcomed me into his family with open arms. I have lived with him and his family happily now for over a year, and everything seems so perfect. Nothing could spoil the pure warmth I feel.
Until the Capitol official bounds onto the stage.
Remora is like any other peppy escort, but she has seem many more years than any of us. She looks odd in her earthy green frocks, but that is nothing compared to what the poor tributes have to face every year.
As the mayor sits after reeling his entire speech to us, Remora jumps onto the stage and looks at the glistening glass bowls.
“Welcome everybody to the thirtieth annual Hunger Games! It was such a fantastic game last year, and I cannot wait to meet our brave new tributes!”
I roll my eyes, as she babbles on. The way she is talking is only high-lightening my shallow nerves. I fiddle with my fingers uncomfortably, as Remora steps towards the female Reaping bowl.
“Best of luck, to all children.” She says with a smile. Although it was meant as a warm gesture, I can’t help but feel a malicious streak break through.
Slowly, Remora holds a piece of paper in her hands. Slugglishly, she opens the name, and reads it aloud to Panem.
“Everyone, I would like to welcome District nine’s female tribute for the thirtieth Hunger Games. Pippy Ralin!” She shouts gleefully.
My heart crumbles as I turn to face Tyran. He is in a phase of shock, the horror still plainly lit over his features. Then I see poor little Pippy stepping out of the twelve year old section, and drag herself to the stage.
Poor Pippy is Tyran’s little sister, who he cares for. I’ve come to care for her, too. Before I can put a reasonable thought in my head, I feel myself pushing my way through the crowd, and running up to the stage.
“I volunteer! I volunteer!” I shout, as I race in front of Pippy.
Pippy lets a tear slip from her eyes, as Tyran appears to take her away. I bravely stand up, and make my way towards the stage. Remora places her hand on her hips, and gestures to a seat.
“May I ask your name?” She asks politely.
I can still hear the menacing voice behind her kind façade, but I ignore it.
“I am Emmi-Belle Hansmen.” I say monotonously.
Thw world blurs around me, as Remora talks about me. My sacrifice. My untimely doom. I sit there, as rigid as a plank of wood, while Remora selects the male tribute.
“Cyrus O’Keefe!” She hollers.
I look out into the sea of people, and see a boy, Cyrus, stand. He is tall, lean, and masculine, with messy dark brown locks. What strikes me most are his eyes, a deep blue, the colour of the ocean.
He steps towards the stage, and plonks onto the seat next to me. I try to muster a smile, but he shoots me a vicious glance, and turns away. Frightened, I ignore him, and sit through the rest of the ceremony.
Once it comes to a wrap, Remora ushers us into the Justice building. I sit on the leather couch, and hold the velvet pillow in my hands. Cyrus hesitantly sits next to me, and we both look up to Remora expectantly.
“All your loved ones will see you in a minute.” She says. “For now, sit here while we get your rooms organised.”
With that, Remora bounds off down the hall, hidden from sight. I look at Cyrus meekly, as he stares into space, into nothing. Feeling extremely awkward, I talk to him.
“So, you’re Cyrus, right?” I ask.
“What do you want to know?” He snaps.
I am taken aback, his sudden cruelty shocking me. Then I think how stupid he is, because he just lost an ally.
“Your rooms are ready. Emmi-Belle, please follow me.” Remora says, appearing from nowhere.
I jump in shock, as she appears in front of me. I take the hint, and follow her to my room. I turn only briefly to catch a glimpse of Cyrus, looking so sullen and hostile. I wonder who would want to visit him.
Remora opens a glass door, and I enter and sit at the metal table. Although the furnishings are average, the décor and walls are most certainly not. The walls are a precious ruby red, with strips of silver reflecting over the room. I see a statue in the corner of the room, and an odd looking pot plant.
Remora shuts the door behind her, and I sit nervously at my seat. I wait, hoping someone would come. Down the hall, I hear the pitter patter of footsteps heading towards me. I sit up straighter, and try to look more composed than I actually am. I see a figure grasp the door, and push it open to see me. In the doorway, I see my twenty six year old sister Lavender, and her young daughter Tyfinni walk in. Lavender sits down on the chair, and Tyfinni perches herself on her lap.
“Oh Emmi-Belle, you are so selfless. All of District Nine are in awe of you.” She says solemnly.
“Well, all I did was say a few words. When the Games starts is when I am more concerned.” I add lightly, in my faint attempts of making a joke.
Lavender avoids my gaze, making me feel uncomfortable. I am saddened to see that Lavender and I are not close, yet we are the closest thing we will ever have to a family. Both of our parents died. Mother passed away not too long ago, of a disease no one knew she contracted. But father, his story was more complicated. Basically, he left mother for another lady, and they used to meet in the crops and forests surrounding the district. Of course, it’s illegal, so one day, when the two went into the forest, they never resurfaced. I don’t know if the Peacekeepers caught them, if they ran deep into the woods and live there, or they are running away, in fear. I don’t want to know the answer.
Lavender clears her throat, as she takes my hand.
“You are strong, Emmi-Belle. You can win the Hunger Games.” She says, with a weak smile.
“Good luck!” Tyfinni chirps through the gap in her teeth.
Of course, she is too young to know what the Hunger Games are, and how very torturous and dangerous they are. But it is best to keep her in the dark until she is older. Much older.
“Love you Em.” Lavender says, as the Peacekeeper at the door motions for her to leave.
“Love you too, Lavender. Bye Tyfinni.” I say, trying to muffle my tears.
The pair hesitantly get up and move slowly out of the room. Before I know what to do, I am left in complete loneliness once again. I wipe away the tear, as I watch Tyran enter the room.
“Tyran!” I choke, as I run up and catch him in a huge embrace.
“Oh, Emmi.” He says, burrowing his head in my hair.
I pull away, and see his eyes are rimmed in red. I wipe a strand of my black hair out of my eyes, and I watch Tyran as he stares at his shoes.
"Emmi, I could never repay for you have done for my sister and for my family. We are in greatest debt to you."
I look down at my feat, suddenly very embarrassed.
"Have you chosen what you will take into the games with you?" He asks kindly.
I shake my head. When would I have chosen something? And what would I have chosen?
"Here." Tyran says, and hands me a small package.
I take it, and open the delicate white wrapping.
Inside the box I find a necklace, with a delicate, golden heart in the middle. I look up at Tyran, admiring the necklace.
"Tyran, I... Wow. This would have cost so much! You didn't have to do this for me."
"Well, it didn't actually cost us anything. It is a family heirloom, my great grandfather brought it for my great grandmother."
I look at the shining locket in my hand, and look back up at Tyran.
"I can't take this from you. This is much too valuable. I could never take something this important to you."
"Well," Tyran says, "If it makes you feel better, you can give it back to me after you've won the Hunger Games."
I shake my head.
"I mightn't come back." I say, worried.
"Keep the necklace. It is from our entire family to thank you for what you've done for Pippy. And the second reason you must keep it is because, Emmi, I love you."
I smile, and I kiss him. The kiss is short lived, but it gives me something to hold onto.
“Thanks Tyran. For everything.” I say, smiling, as the Peacekeeper comes in and takes him away.
They walk out of the room, and I completely lose it. I fall to the ground, as tears streak my face. My throat tightens at what is to come, but what I hate most is everything I will miss, and everyone I am leaving behind. It’s all too much to handle.
I sit up, as the tears subside. I try to compose myself, and try to calm myself. I get up from the heap on the ground, just as Remora bounces into the room.
“Why Emmi-Belle, it’s okay darling! But come, we are leaving now.”
I gingerly follow her out of the room, and meet her and Cyrus in the hall. Considering the traumatic experience I just had, Cyrus seems unscathed. He appears as normal, expressionless and angered.
Remora and a mob of Peacekeepers escort us out the door, and into the deserted city streets. Remora prods us along, trying to make us move along faster.
Finally, we arrive at the Train station, where a luxurious train sits. Before I can shield myself, a flurry of cameramen jump out and start pointing their cameras in our faces.
I shy away from the camera, as Cyrus ignores them altogether, pretending they are not there. Seeing him like that, acting strong when no one else can, brings me hope, and something I thought I had lost eternally: courage. I find myself standing taller, and adding a smile to my face. The cameras click and flash in my direction, as I stride past them and onto the train. Remora follows in behind us, and slams the door shut.
Remora smiles, that sick insincere smile of hers, and points behind us.
“Cyrus, Emmi-Belle, there is someone you should meet.”
We turn swiftly, to find a young lady standing in front of us. She wears jeans and a brown jacket, and her hair glows red. Instantly, I know who she is.
“You are Dayna, you are our mentor.” I say dumbly.
She nods, and shakes our hands.
“Yes, I’m Dayna, and I will be happy to help you two succeed in the Hunger Games.”
I nod, while Cyrus stands there, his arms crossed. I look back to Remora, hoping she has another job for us to do. I don’t want to be left alone with these strangers.
“You better be off to it,” Remora chirps, “I have Capitol business to attend to.”
With that, Remora’s heels click on the floor until they become a distant thud on the other half of this carriage.
I turn my gaze to Dayna, who rubs her hands together.
“Now, let’s talk strengths.”
She sits down on the leather couches, positioned near the window. I take it as my cue to sit down, and lazily, Cyrus follows.
“So, Emmi-Belle, what are your strengths?” Dayna asks quizzically.
I hesitate for a moment, not entirely sure what my strength is. Finally, I think of a suitable trait to feed Dayna.
“I’m a good runner. I have a pretty broad knowledge of plants, and I know how to use a knife.” I say seriously.
She nods, in thought, and turns to Cyrus, who still hasn’t said a word to her.
“So Cyrus, what are you good at?”
“I’m a hunter. So I’m good with all weapons and traps and stuff.” He says gruffly.
She nods thoughtfully, stroking her temples. “Now, although strengths are important, there is one more thing with more importance. It is the thing I will be teaching you most on. And that is your weaknesses.”
I sit on the couch, watching another tribute piercing a spear right through their heart. I flinch, and look away. Cyrus scoffs besides me. I ignore him, as Dayna dully adds notes about motives, traps and other things. After our brief talking session, I have realised I am afraid of Cyrus. He knows too much now, he couls easily hurt me. Cyrus widens his eyes when another tribute throws a mace into another’s head. I stifle a scream, and try not to think about the fact that will be me in a matter of days.
“OK kids, I think I’ve worked you hard enough today.”
I pull myself into a tight ball, and rock myself back and forwards, while Cyrus sits there, frozen, his mouth agape.
Dayna switches the television off, and leaves the room.
“Session over.”
About time, I think. As I get up, Cyrus stays motionless on the couch. I ignore him, as I sweep past and sit on a couch in the lounge area. I pick a seat next to the window, and I sit there watching blurs of green flash by. I sit there numbly, thinking of the other tributes. Should I try to make allies? Although it would bring me to a great advantage, it would be harder to break apart, and ultimately kill them. I couldn’t bring myself to do that.
As I sit there, Cyrus emerges from the other room, his hair spiking in all directions. He looks straight at me, his eyes connecting with mine. The intensity of his stare pushes me backwards, and he alters his gaze, looking forward. Suddenly, he stops in his tracks, and just stands there.
I get up and stand next to him, trying to make sure everything is alright.
“Trying to practise your strut for the Capitol?” I ask sarcastically.
He snaps his head to me, his liquid blue eyes glaring at me.
“I don’t need to hear stupid theories from a stupid girl.”
“Stupid? I’m a stupid girl? You are treating this like a game, Cyrus, and you are trying to manipulate all the pieces. But guess what? I’m not falling for it. I can’t believe I have to spend so much time with you.” I seethe, as I storm off.
Stupid girl. He thinks I’m a stupid girl? Well, he is a stupid boy, because he just made a stupid mistake.
I storm down the hall, and slam the door shut. I face the wardrobe, and go through everything. I pick out a pale blue shirt and black shorts, slip them on, and fall into bed. I wrap the blankets tightly around me, as I think of all the people who will try and kill me. I try to erase the thought, as I slowly seep into unconsciousness.
I wake to find the sun pouring in through my window. I yawn, and raise my hands in the air. I get out of bed, and groggily make my way down the hall, into the dining room. I stand there, as I see the table is stripped bare of all food. Then Remora gasps when she enters the room.
“Emmi-Belle! We will be in the Capitol in twenty minutes. Get ready now!” She shouts.
I obey, and walk back down the hall. I enter the room, and see a pile of clothes has been placed on the bed. I look at them, then look away in disgust.
The clothes are so pink. The dress is short, and the heels are ridiculously large. I stare at the clothes in disbelief, and run down the hall.
At the door, I meet Dayna, who examines me with a worried look.
“Emmi-Belle, you have to get ready!”
“Not with clothes like these.” I say, clearly repulsed.
She laughs, then shoves the clothes back at me. “It’s that, or nothing. Your choice.”
I storm down the hall, when I see Cyrus. He is fully dressed, in a white shirt, black vest, and dress pants.
I give him a dirty look, as I brush past him, and slam my door shut.
Whenever I am near Cyrus, his bad energy always seeps into me. Like his awful personality is contagious. I angrily shove the disgusting clothes on, and try to pull a brush through my hair. When I am satisfied enough, I walk into the lounge, where Dayna and Cyrus wait.
“Emmi-Belle? You don’t look bad at all.” Dayna says happily.
“No,” I agree, “I look worse.”
I see Cyrus grin, and I give him one of my foulest looks. “Can I change?” I plea.
“Too late.” Dayna says, as the train rolls to a stop.
I sigh, as the doors roll open, and Dayna shoves through the cameramen. I smile every once and a while, and Dayna finally bursts through as she shoves the two of us into a car.
“You two are going off to get styled for the opening ceremony tonight.” Dayna says, “Good luck.”
Good luck indeed. I just hope the Capitol likes human lollypops.
The door shuts behind us, and the driver directs us to our Stylists. We get out of the car, and I see some of the other tributes making their way to their stylists. I can’t help but think things like ‘I could kill you,’ ‘you would kill me’, or ‘we could be allies’.
The thought saddens me, as I walk glumly through the halls, until a Stylist bounds out from nowhere.
“Hello kids! I am Pennyweather, your stylist, but you can call me Peni.” She adds with a laugh.
I back away a little, her voice so loud and high. She takes my hand, and looks back over to Cyrus.
“Over there is your stylist, get acquainted, and you will look fabulous!” Peni exclaims.
A male figure emerges, and leads Cyrus into another room. I follow Peni as she skips down the hall, into her station. I look at Peni, seeing her fluffy pink hair, her pink dress, her pink shoes. And the pink tattoo spiralled across her face.
“You chose this outfit for me, didn’t you?” I ask her, when she sits me down at her table.
“Yes I did, I’m glad you noticed! Do you like it?” She asks innocently.
I can’t bring myself to tell her the truth, that this outfit is truly horrible. Instead, I nod, and thank her. Then I begin to worry that my Opening Ceremony outfit will be somewhat similar to this.
I lay down, as Peni and her team of stylists rid me of all marks and bruises, cuts and hair. I cringe, as they start to pluck my eyebrows. Finally, Peni emerges with a table full of cosmetics and hair products. She raises the seat, and looks me straight in the eye.
“You are going to look beautiful.” She says, as she picks up some lipstick.
She slathers my face with lipstick, eyeliner, foundation, lip gloss, and a flurry of other cosmetics I don’t know of. When she completes my face, she moves up to my hair. She puts in pins, and sprays my hair with hairspray. After adding her final touches, she smiles at me, and gives me a mirror.
I look down at my face, hardly recognisable now. My eyes are rimmed gold, with long black eyelashes. My lips are bronze, and my face is slightly lighter than it was before. My hair is put upward into a bun, and the pins in my hair gleam in the mirror.
“Wow.” I state in amazement.
Peni disappears for a moment, and reappears with a dress bag. Peni slips the dress out of her bag, and I hug the garment in my hands. I see the white top half, and the bottom half of the dress, reaching my knees, is golden, with small sequins and lots of sparkles. Peni helps slip the dress over my body, and I slip on the black flats on the ground.
“There, beautiful.” She adds, bowing to her silent applause.
I marvel at myself in the mirror, as the dress falls gently down my side. I am amazed. And I am so glad she didn’t dress me in pink.
She ushers me out of the stylist room, and I find myself standing in the hall. Suddenly, a door creaks open, and Cyrus walks out. His hair is perfectly smoothed, his black pants and vest are nothing compared to the shirt he wears underneath, which glistens and glows a pure gold. He has no makeup on, for that, I am envious.
I see Cyrus stop in his tracks when his eyes meet me. His pupils dilate, and his body stiffens. In my mind, I am wondering what I did to make him hate me so much. Does this sight repulse him that much?
“Come now, we must get you prepared for the chariot ride!” Peni squeals.
I suppress a sigh, as Peni drags Cyrus and I through a maze of corridors, until we are met with the stable. Inside sits our chariot, and Dayna stands there, chatting to some of the other mentors.
She says farewell when we come into sight, and clasps her hands together.
“You two look amazing! Follow me, let’s get you two set up.” She says.
We trail close behind, as Peni watches us move. Cyrus jumps onto the chariot, as I start to climb up. Then in the corner of my eye, I see two tributes, not sure which ones they are, as they chat and hold each other’s hand as they climb the chariot. They smile, and through their eyes, I can see they are happy.
Then I turn to Cyrus, surprised to see his deep blue eyes trained on me. My breathing becomes irregular, and suddenly I feel there is nothing here but Cyrus and I. The connection is weird, but when Cyrus looks away, a feeling tugs at me, upset his gaze is gone. Confused, I stumble onto the chariot, and hold the railing for support.
“Now you two, smile. Seem happy. I don’t want you two to play any angles, be your true selves, but try and act friendly.” Dayna says, trying to be optimistic.
I try to take her advice, while Cyrus continues to stare at the doors in front of us.
Behind us, we hear a voice letting us know we are about to come out.
“5, 4, 3, 2, 1.” The mechanical voice drones, then the doors fly open.
Our chariot jumps forward, and the crowds burst into applause. I attempt a smile, and look over the crowds. I give a small wave here and there, while Cyrus stands there. I look closely at him, and see he has a lopsided smile. Then I realise that I like it.
Ignoring that thought, I continue to smile for the cameras, and wave. I feel the bun above my head feel heavy, suddenly worried that the bun will fall out. Although I know it won’t, I do something that Peni will kill me for later.
I pull out my bun.
The hair tie falls to the ground, and my jet black hair falls down my back, and starts to sway in the wind. The crowd breaks into a larger applause, and I manage to grab some flowers someone threw at me. I place the yellow rose in my hair, and place the other golden rose in a pocket in Cyrus’ shirt, visible to the world.
Cyrus turns to me, and I meet his gaze. For once, he doesn’t look mad. He actually looks happy. He looks down, then takes my hands, and he raises our hands into the air.
The crowd go crazy, as our spontaneous act is broadcast all throughout Panem. I let out a huge smile, and I see that Cyrus is smiling too. Before we know it, our chariot pulls back into the stable, where I find Peni glaring at me.
“How dare you defy my work! I invested so much time into that bun…”
“What a show!” Dayna says, as she claps her hands.
“Truly spontaneous. Everyone is talking about the selfless girl from District Nine, and how she has defied odds and befriended her fellow tribute. “
I look down at my shoes, not knowing what to do and how to accept this compliment.
Two cars appear, to take all of the tributes to the Training Centre. We stand there for a moment, before Cyrus jumps angrily from his chariot.
“Emmi-Belle this, Emmi-Belle that, I’m sick of it. Being compared to some little girl is torture. I still exist too, you know.” He shouts.
My mouth hangs agape as Cyrus pushes past all the other tributes and jumps in one of the cars. My heart starts to clench, and I feel guilt wash over me. Then I feel stupid. Cyrus is just an attention seeker, nothing more. I don’t want anything to do with him.
“I think it would be best you went in the other car.” Dayna says cautiously.
I take her advice, and slip into the other car, as it drives us to the Training Centre. When I jump out of the car, I meet Dayna and an annoyed Cyrus at the door. When I reach them, the three of us walk into the Training Centre. I stop in amazement, looking at the beautiful décor. An elevator drops in front of us, and opens the door. We walk and, and Dayna presses the number nine. We fly upward, and I clutch the walls as the elevator lifts us up high. We stop suddenly, and I feel myself wobble out of the elevator.
“This is your new home for the next few days, make the most of it.” Dayna says, as we look at the lavish room. My first sight is of the dining room table, set out with food and beverages, and plates for us to use.
“Eat up!” A voice says behind us.
I jump to find Remora standing there, looking at the table. We all sit down, and I start nibbling on some roast pork.
“What an opening ceremony! You two definitely made an impression.” Remora says, attempting to start conversation.
“All unscripted.” Dayna says, sipping on a steaming broth.
I look over at the table to see Cyrus pushing vegetables around on his plate. His bread sits next to him, and the rich sauce slathered on the plate sits there untouched.
“What’s wrong, Cyrus?” Remora asks.
I hear Dayna stamp on Remora’s foot, and I try to keep a straight face.
“I miss my dad.” He says solemnly.
I hear Dayna breathe a sigh of relief. I munch on my last bite of roast, and look over the table.
“At least you have family.” I say.
He looks up at me, and both Dayna and Remora send me sympathetic looks. It makes me think of home, and what I left behind. Although Lavender didn’t want me, she is still my family. But now I have Tyran, Pippy, and their parents. They have basically adopted me into the family, an utmost price I will never be able to repay. I look down at my meal, and find the plate gleaming white.
“I’m going to bed now. I’m tired.” I say.
“Night, Emmi-Belle.” Cyrus whispers as I pass.
I look at him in surprise, judging his kind look. I brush it off, but I am polite back.
“Good night, Cyrus.”
I make my way down the hall, and turn into my room. The first thing I do is peel off this dress, and leave it as a heap on the floor. I take out a long blue sports shirt, and pull it tight over my body. Seeing the shirt reaches my knees, I decide to wear it as a nightgown. But I put on shorts anyway, that are hidden underneath the nightgown. I walk into my bathroom, and scrub away all of my makeup. I watch as all the black and gold swirl around in the sink, and descend down the drain. I take the pins out of my hair, too tired to wash out the hairspray.
I exit the bathroom and snuggle myself into the bed. Before I drift to sleep, on my bedside table is a white box. Instantly I know that inside rests Tyran’s gift, my token. I take the necklace out of the box, kiss the heart gently, and out it back on the table, moments before I fall asleep.
I wake up, and walk down the hall where I find a table of breakfast treats. I eat some waffles covered in maple syrup, and drink on a hot beverage called ‘Hot Chocolate’. I savour the dish, and once I finish, I head back down to my room, and find a black outfit sitting there. Hesitantly, I put it on, and see the black suit on my body, with one thin golden stripe down the side. I take a hair tie from the bathroom, and tie my hair into a side pony tail that falls down my body, underneath my face. I smile when I realise this has become my signature style. I walk back down the hall, and see Dayna standing there, looking at the clock.
“Where is Cyrus? How long does it take to get a suit on… Emmi-Belle!” She says.
I walk up next to her, and wait by the door.
“Remember, don’t show your true talent. Keep it hidden. Save it for your private session.” I nod, when Cyrus appears down the hall.
He wears a suit just like mine, but I can’t see any difference, but his looks more masculine. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t want to find out.
“Good luck!” Dayna says, as an elevator arrives to take us away. We both step inside, and Dayna presses a button. The second her arm is out of the elevator, the door slams shut, and plummets to the bottom floor.
The doors squeak open, and we find ourselves in the training centre. Half of the tributes are already here, chatting up future allies, destroying dummies. I watch as Cyrus heads for a sword station, while I loiter around the traps station.
The instructor tells me how to do the most basic traps, and when I complete those, she teaches me more difficult ones.
I notice as I carefully fabricate each trap that each tribute doesn’t stay at any station long enough to learn anything. When everyone else is onto their fifth station, I am leaving the first.
I look at all the big weapon stations, and avoid them. I find myself at a speed station, with an obstacle course that we have to complete in a set time. I poise myself, and when I am instructed to go, I bolt down the track. I cross the finish line moments before time out, and the lady gives me some small exercises to do to improve my strength. When I finish that, the training session ends, and I walk with the crowd of other tributes to the elevator. When I enter the elevator, I see Cyrus alone in the corner. A tribute brushes past me, and sniggers when I recoil at their touch. I ignore them, and slam my hand on the big nine button.
After the District Eight tributes walk off, the elevator shoots upwards, and drops us off. We get out, and meet Dayna and Remora at the door. They quiz us on a lot of things, but I ignore them all, and walk into my room, and straight into the shower. As the water pulses on my body, I select a simple hair clean, as it untangles my knots, and leaves my hair smelling of strawberries.
I put some clothes back on, and join the others at the table, ready for dinner.
We eat in silence, as we all munch on the delicious food laid on the table. I finish, and leave them all at the table and I walk out to the balcony. I watch the Capitol, and all the gleaming lights. I my hands hang over the edge, as I stand there, deep in thought. My eyes race over the city, and I still haven’t come to terms with my doomed fate.
I hear the door open behind me, and I see Cyrus. I am completely surprised, as he looks remotely happy. I thought he hated me.
“Hi.” He says quietly.
“Hi.” I repeat.
He stands next to me, looking over the ledge. He points to a light far off in the distance, and faces me.
“That’s where we will be doing the interviews.” He says.
“Great. I am not looking forward to that. May as well kill myself to escape that pain.” I add lightly.
I am taken aback when Cyrus laughs, and turns back to the lights shining in the moonlight.
“I’ve been dreading that moment since-“ He starts to say, but I interrupt him.
“Forever?” I ask.
“No. I was going to say since the Reaping, but I guess always sounds better.”
I look at him weirdly, and I correct him.
“I said forever. I thought it was hard to confuse…” I start to say.
“Forever and always.” We both say in unison.
I turn away, embarrassed. I move a thread of my hair out of my face, when Cyrus starts to walk away.
“Bye, Em…mi-Belle.”
“Sweet dreams, Cyrus.”
He disappears into the room, and I watch where he left. And feel a weird tingling feeling inside.
We all sit in anticipation in front of the television. I fiddle with my fingers, as my name and picture pops up. Under my name, a nine surfaces.
“Nine, that’s a great score, well done!” Dayna says, patting my back.
After that, Cyrus and his picture pop up, and the number nine too falls underneath.
“Two nines from district nine!” Remora chirps beside us.
I suppress the urge to roll my eyes, but when I glance at Cyrus, I see he craved into that urge.
I think back to my training session, and how I earned that nine. I did a lot of knife work, and I managed to decapitate a dummy. I felt really bad about it, but the Gamemakers must have gotten a kick from it.
I hear the door thud, and Peni bounds inside. Now, time to make you two shine!” She says.
I groan. Dayna kicks me in the leg. I stand, and Cyrus follows. Peni leads us downstairs, and into a car, which takes us to a room where she starts to prepare me.
Cyrus goes with his stylist, and I go with mine. Peni leads me into a room, and immediately starts with my makeup. I am glad when she keeps it to a minimum, and she does my hair. She pauses, and turns to me, looking me in the eye.
“You know what? I have gone for a natural look here, and to make it more natural. Do you want to wear your hair in your signature side pony tail?” She asks.
I nod so furiously my neck starts to hurt.
She immediately starts to pull my hair through a hair tie, and adds a golden clip to it, to make it more professional.
I look at my face in the mirror, and am happy with what I see. Basically, she has made everything natural, but it all seems to gleam and shine.
She nods to her desk, where I see a gleam of gold. She grabs my dress, a floor length gown covered in small golden jewels. I stare in amazement as the dress, and think about how heavy it must be.
Peni helps me slip into it, and I glance at the mirror, in complete shock. To my amazement, I actually look beautiful.
Seeming satisfied, Peni leads me out into the hall, and we reach a door that leads to the waiting area behind Caesar Flickerman. I watch all the other anxious tributes, adjusting their garments, fixing their hair. I sit in my allocated seat, as Peni disappears. I see the seat next to me is empty, that Cyrus is not here yet. I wait anxiously, until Cyrus strolls into the room. He looks surprisingly casual, wearing dark jeans, a white shirt and a golden tie. He takes the seat next to me, and smiles.
“What an amazing dress. You look really…nice.” He says hastily.
“And you look so debonair.” I add.
Suddenly, Caesar’s booming voice brings us back to reality. He summons the girl from district one out, and starts to interview her. I try to not glance at Peni, the cameras or the audience, afraid the nerves will push me over the edge.
I wait patiently, fiddling with my fingers like I so often do. Finally, I am put out of my misery when I am summoned to the stage.
“Hello Emmi-Belle. Welcome!” Caesar says kindly, pointing to the chair besides him.
I sit down, but not before I twirl, showcasing my dress.
“So Emmi-Belle, tell us about the Reaping. How did that feel, seeing your sister making her way to the stage?”
“Oh, she isn’t my sister. Her name is Pippy, she is my boyfriend’s sister.” I say.
“Wow. Beautiful and selfless. Your boyfriend must be lucky. So, how was that experience for you?” He asks.
“It was hard, and of course, unbelievable. I always thought I would never have to go into the Games, so when I volunteered, I was sacrificing everything for Pippy, but I love her and my boyfriend Tyran, so for me it was the only choice.”
“So, what are your feelings towards the Games at this time?” He asks.
“I’m petrified, of course, but I am more afraid about after the Games. If I do die, there will be so much I will miss out on. My sister was to get married in a few months, and my little niece will grow up without me. I don’t want to leave this life before actually living it.”
The crowd all agree, as I hear a few ‘aw’s and I even hear sobs. I turn back to Caesar, who is ready to finish the interview.
“So, what are your opinions on life here in the Capitol?”
“I find it very interesting. Very luxurious, and pretty. At home, we don’t focus on luxuries, we focus on work. Being here is like a breath of fresh air. Like a long needed vacation. And I thank Panem for that.”
Then I hear my buzzer. Caesar says his kind goodbyes, while I seat myself behind him. Then Cyrus is summoned, and the two banter easily. My cheeks start to burn red when Caesar asks Cyrus a personal question.
“So, what are your thoughts on your fellow tribute, Emmi-Belle?”
I see half of everyone turn to look at me, and the other half turn to Cyrus.
“She is pretty cool. I don’t know how she will go in the Games, but I’m hoping she pulls through. Not that I care.”
Not that I care. The words slap me, and make my cheeks burn even more feverishly. I sit there, angered, for the rest of the interviews.
As Cyrus sits down, I try my hardest to ignore him. The worst thing is, I turn to look at his expression. I realise how much I want to slap him when I see he doesn’t know what he did wrong. I think to myself, what happened to the boy on the balcony?
Everybody is led offstage, and I meet Peni, Remora and Dayna on the side of the stage. Cyrus falls into step behind me, and we look at them both expectantly.
We all walk back to a car, and pile in as it delivers us to the Training Centre.
The car starts up, and out the windows I see everything start to fade.
When the car stops at the Training Centre, I robotically get out, not paying attention. My insides feel numb and hollow, suddenly feeling very bad. We reach our small floor, and I race past everyone and slam the door to my room.
I shove the door shut behind me, as I peel of my dress and undo my hair. I jump into the shower, where I let my defences weaken. I succumb to tears, as they drip down my face. I am partly upset at Cyrus, for the horrible things he said to me both on the train and just now. But what pains me more is the harsh reality: tomorrow I will be in the Hunger Games.
I try to toughen up, push the thought from my mind, but all I can think of is all the people I saw in the training centre, dead. I stop the shower, and feel a burning inside my chest, a fear that consumes me. I know I should eat something put on some weight, but now I know there is no hope I will eat anything. I gingerly put on some pyjamas, and slip into bed.
I stare at the wall, finding sleep eluding me. I didn’t expect to sleep, but I want my mind to become dormant, I want to be rid of the pain stemming through me. By some miracle, I feel the grasp of sleep starting to crawl up on me. Finally, when the moon is at it’s brightest, my eyes lids fall heavy, and shut.
I wake up before the sun has risen from the sky. I know there is no hope that I will get back to sleep, so I walk down the hall, into the kitchen. The table seems plain, there is no food occupying it. To my right, I see a water cooler. I walk up to it, and fill a cup. I sip on the drink, looking out the window, overlooking the Capitol. What I thought was so beautiful nights ago seems old and bitter. I strain my eyes, and I see Cyrus standing on the balcony. I crane my head, and watch him. I want to comfort him, then I remember what he did to me last night. I cannot forgive him, I cannot lose focus. I look closer at Cyrus, and I see his body quaking unnaturally. Then I realise he is crying, when I see a tear drop from his face. I debate whether to talk to him, when he turns, and spots me staring at him through the window. He does a double take, and his eyes burn into me. I step back, dropping the cup of water to the ground. I look from side to side, and run away from the window.
I race into my bedroom, shut the door, and lean against it. I slide onto the floor, and hold myself in a ball. I fight the urge to cry, knowing Peni would be furious with me. I take the opportunity to thoroughly clean myself in the shower, cleaning my hair, and disinfecting my body.
When I get out of the shower, I hug a towel to my body. I enter my room, and I find Cyrus on my bed.
“Ahh!” I scream, as I jump backwards.
I hastily try to cover myself more than the towel, but Cyrus seems unfazed. I try to get my hair to hang over my face, blocking Cyrus’ vision. I see that he is not looking at me, but out the window. The sun is rising, coming through the clouds. It seems like a beautiful day, but it really isn’t.
Cyrus turns to me, and holds a pile of clothes. I snatch them, then lock myself in my bathroom. I quickly put the clothes on, and then meet Cyrus back in my bedroom. He sits there, his dark hair all messy and pointed in all directions. He stands up, and comes up to me.
“Why were you staring at me, Emmi-Belle?” He asks.
“I don’t know. I went to get a drink, and I saw you, and I was trying to figure out what you were doing…” I trail off.
I gaze into Cyrus’ deep blue eyes, unfazed by the red rims that surround it. I feel lost looking into his eyes, confused. Like he has hypnotised me. I stand tall, and look at him.
“Did you hear what I was saying?” He asks cautiously.
“No, I wasn’t eavesdropping! Wait, what were you saying?” I ask.
He shakes his head, and starts to walk out the room. He stops in the doorway, his back to me, as he leans on the framing. He turns his head to me, and his eyes find mine.
“And good luck, Emmi-Belle.” He says stiffly, before he disappears from the door.
And I just stand there, more confused than anything.
Before I move, I see Remora bounce into my room.
“Good, you’re dressed. Come now, we will be escorting you now to the Arena.”
I feel my stomach knot up as Remora directs us down the hall, and to the elevator. She presses the top button, and we reach the roof, where I see a helicopter, and Dayna accompanied by Cyrus.
“Goodbye!” Remora shouts, teary, as Cyrus and I climb the ladder.
When I enter, Dayna slips past me. I walk back to the door. I spot Remora, and lean out of the helicopter.
“Bye Remora, thanks for everything!” I shout, waving, just as the helicopter starting to take off.
Cyrus and I are carted off, and a Capitol person rests me on a table, a needle in his hand.
My eyes widen, and he laughs at my squeamishness.
“It’s just a locator chip, we insert it into you so we can track your movements in the Games.”
I nod, and shut my eyes as he inserts the chip into me. When he is done, he offers me a drink. Seeing as it’s water, I decline the offer. I sit back in a chair, looking at the blacked out windows.
“Why are they blocked?” I ask Dayna, as she sits across from me.
“To prevent you knowing about the Arena before you are in there.” She replies.
Cyrus walks into the room, his skin around his arm burning red. He flops into a chair next to me, and looks at us.
“What?” He snaps.
“Nothing…” I reply hastily.
I hear the helicopter start to descend to the ground. I grip my chair, as we come to a thud to the ground.
Dayna gets up, and puts a blindfold over my eyes.
“What is this for?” Cyrus complains.
“So you can’t see the arena.” She says, as she prods us forwards.
I feel so blind and vulnerable, as Dayna leads us through the maze of halls. Finally, she pushes me into a room. She takes my blindfold off. But instead of seeing Dayna’s face, I am met with Peni’s pink tattoos.
She lays a uniform in front of me, black shirt, green coat, dark pants, boots. What stuns me is the white box sitting on top of the clothes.
“Seriously Emmi-Belle, you always forget your token! Luckily we tipped staff before you all left.” She says.
She hands me the bundle of clothes, and I slip them on, no longer feeling self conscious about my body. Peni helps slide the necklace over my neck, and she ties my hair into my side pony tail.
“Great. You look great.” She says, a bit tearful.
I hug her, knowing she truly needs it. She backs back, and looks me in the eye.
“You can win, Emmi-Belle. I can see your strength. There are great things destined for you.” She says.
Over a speaker system, a countdown begins, starting from sixty. Peni leads me to a silver plate, telling me to stand on it. I do, and suddenly the metal is wrapped in a tube. I cling to the sides, and watch Peni through the glass.
She waves goodbye, as I am lifted upwards.
The plate closes in underneath me, and I start to raise upwards. I gasp for air, when I find myself standing on my plate among all the other tributes. I poise myself on the plate, ready to run into the forest.
I hear the countdown overhead, and pray I don’t do a false start. The voice ticks around me.
5,4,3,2,1
A beeping sound rings out, and I jump off that plate. I ignore all the goods spread around, and push my way through and into the forest. I see someone try to hurl a knife at me, but I duck, and escape into the trees.
Any thoughts? Any improvements? I know it is a lot of writing, considering it is only up to the beginning of the Games, but still, I like writing.
As always! 
But I think we should only use the first part in Chapter 1.
(Don't ask...) 
)
It's supposed to be her cariot outfit... I imagined her top a a toga... can you tell that I was looking at my History book? 
That is... AMAZING! I love it! I love drawing and fan art. I have quite a few sketches of Cyrus and Emmi-Belle. Maybe one day I'll be game enough to upload them... 
