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The 34th Hunger Games

By @GuineaPigWriter13

The Capitol

I wake up in a warm silk bed, the rattling of the train part of the background noise. Josef must’ve lifted me into it. There is a screech of rails, and I look out of the window. We are nearing the Capitol. The spires from tall buildings stretch up to the sky, with the outer ring of buildings lower and more uniform.

There is a knock on the door, and Josef enters. “How are you doing?”

“I’m ok I guess.” I attempt a smile. “You?”

“Nervous. But I guess you can’t expect anything lesson.”

No. You can’t. And I am a lot more than nervous. I’m terrified. But I’m not going to let it show. I refuse to show any weakness infront of the other tributes, particularly the Careers. The ones from Districts 1,2 and 4. We call them Careers because event though you’re not supposed to train for the Hunger Games, they do. And the majority of them volunteered themselves. Unlike me.

We begin the slow down. We are nearing the train station in the Capitol. My heart begins to thump in my chest, then pounds in my head. I grip Josef’s hand tightly, for fear that if I let go, I will lose him forever.

A crowd of Capitol citizens are waiting for us. Urgh! How ugly is the fashion sense here. Many have dyed skin, with jewels or carvings implanted. Others are sporting bright, vibrant wigs and dresses and suits, many with sparkles and stupid accessories such as butterflies, or flowers, but in an over the top way. They cheer us, and for a moment I am taken in under the illusion that they are cheering for us. Then I remember all they want is the entertainment of the Games. They are cheering for fresh entertainment. Fresh meat. Not for us. Josef and I look at each other warily, then both begin to grin. The grin turns into laughter. Oh how good it feels to laugh and loosen up after the events of yesterday. We laugh and laugh at all those people who watch us die in their ridiculous, silly costumes. But then the train stops, and our moment of relief is over. I look at him again, and he must see the fear in my face, for he pulls me close to his chest. He strokes my hair lovingly. I know it’s an attempt to comfort me but recently I can rarely be comforted.

We pull into the station, and the train stops. The doors open, and it is clear that it is all the peacekeepers can do to hold back the crowd of Capitol citizens from pushing themselves through the barriers. I grip Josef’s hand even tighter as we are lead through the mob of colourful Capitol citizens. We are being taken to our stylists. Mattia Linker comes up behind us, tottering in her high heels. “Now, Willow and Josef, I hope you will be good in front of all these people. They really are your lifeline in the arena. You want them to like you. Hopefully your stylists will help you look beautiful! Where are they? Ah, there they are.”

I look over to where she is pointing. There are two people standing amid the crowd, separated from them. Two women who look as unique and ridiculous as the rest. Mattia ushers us over to them.


Josef raises his head. The woman who’d spoken beckons him towards her. “My name is Tigris. I will be your stylist.” Which means that the other one is mine.

“Hello Willow.” She says in soft tones. “My name is Clemensia.” She looks even worse than the others, and that is saying something. She has gone to the extremes of body implants, and her neck and shoulder are covered in multicoloured snake scales. Talk about crazy.

“Your stylists will escort you to your quarters in the Capitol Centre. I will meet you there.” Mattia jumps in.

Tigris gestures towards a rail. It has a singular train carriage stationed on it. We climb into it, and sit down.


We arrive at the centre of the Capitol. Skyscrapers soar above our heads, reaching for the clouds. Throughout the journey, every one was silent. Now, as we arrive, Tigris and Clemensia begin chatting animatedly about what they are going to do with our clothes, accessories, etc… Honestly, do they care about us at all, or do they just do this job for the fame and fashion. I think it’s the latter.

We immediately go from train carriage to inside one of the tallest buildings. No time to stop and stare I guess. Mattia Linker, as promised, was waiting for us. She had changed outfit. Already. She was now sporting a vibrant blue wig and a poofy blue dress. Quite a comparison to earlier’s orange wig and dress. I struggle to supress a giggle.

“Now, as you are District 7, your quarters will be on Floor 7. You know, District 7, Floor 7.”

I roll my eyes at Josef. He winks back.

“Anyway,on we go.” She leads us to a lift. Inside is a simple room with 12 buttons. Mattia Linker presses the seventh button up, and the doors shut seamlessly. I’ve never been in a lift before, and so I get caught by surprise when it starts to move. Upwards. After about thirty seconds, we stop, and the doors open smoothly again.

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