It's the things we love most, that destroy us

Chapter 9

I laid there as still as a statue on the examination table, that seemed to glow. My fingers twitched in anticipation of what will be coming, my eyes were wide in observation while frantically switching side to side to view my unknown surroundings. All the walls were an identical white as if it were an illusion. Are they trying to make me go mad ? Is that my punishment for killing Thread ?

The second I was brought into the room, the examination team - in their white lab coats and identical black trimmed glasses - striped me naked and began poking and prodding at my body ; all I could do was stand there in utter humiliation while they silently judged on my appearance. At some point, they forced me into a shower of ice cold water, which felt like 1000 knives piercing into your skin all at once, even after an hour my body is still shivering. Then they dressed me into a cotton hospital-like gown, which is more see-through than me attempting to cover myself with my hands, plopped me down onto this metal table and robotically left.

And here we are, staring up at the blank ceiling with a flickering light ; waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

I begin to flicker my feet up and down in impending boredom and fiddle with the cuticles of my sore and swollen nails, when a small click of a door opening surfaces the room ; immediately I jump up from my position eager to see the culprit of the noise. A blue, short man stands in the doorway ; he had white, silky hair and was dressed in a shimmering suit, which seemed to be covered in glitter. Rudely, my mouth gapes wide open in surprise, the royal blue man hobbles towards me slowly ; the repetitive click of his wooden walking stick against the floor is the only noise in the room. Eventually, he reaches me and the minute I was about to open my mouth, the walking stick is menacingly pointed straight at my face. The man looks me up and down as if I were nothing - his expression full of strong attitude, his purple lips pushed together. Carefully, he moves the stick side to side, with it still smooshed against my cheeks - his eyes fixated on my swollen and red face. The golden tip was cold as ice against my skin. Nervously, my hands shake and pour with a river of thick, hot sweat.

After a minute of silent observation, he removes the stick from my face, returns it to the floor and comments in a proud stance "You look like your father", "I know" I whisper, looking at the ground - my heart begins to desperately ache for my parents. The man moves my chin up to face him like my father did earlier, "I'll try my best to get you back to them, my name is Ozias" he says, his mouth pulled in a small smile "I am your head stylist". Even though I've never seen this man as a stylist in the games before I do know he's popular in the Capitol, just by his thick, posh accent and rich, luxurious clothes. "Come, we make haste" he finishes, while patting me on the back with his gloved hands, I'm surprised that he touched me - Capitol citizens seem to believe we all have contagious diseases just from being from the district's.

I follow him through the door to a second room but instead of the bland and demented walls, it's covered in smooth metal like the entrance of the Remake centre. The room is much more spacious, scattered around are mirrors and tables covered of what I can only guess is makeup ; in the middle of the room sits a podium resembling the ones you stand on before the games. With a point of his long stick, Ozias directs me onto the podium and once again I remove my hospital-like gown. I stand there awkwardly, my naked body reflected in every mirror when 3 people join us in the room ; "Lilly meet your prep team, they will be doing your makeup and hair styles for your appearances", I give them each an uncomfortable smile and wave as Ozias introduces them with a flicker of his stick.

Flavius ; who was dressed lavishly - probably in the most popular fashion - his hair was a bright orange, formed in corkscrew curls. Octavia ; a plump and short woman whose entire body has been dyed shades of light pea green, her eyelashes seem to extend out like twigs in a tree covered in purple glitter. Finally, Venia, the tallest of the 3 ; she was thin and angular with spiked aqua and blonde hair - golden tattoos wrap around her eyebrows like a snake coiling around its prey. All their faces were bursting in excitement as they eagerly jumped up and down - hands clasped to their chests ; "We were the prep team for your own mother" Octavia happily exclaims, walking over and touching my messy hair ; I nearly throw up thinking about the things the prep team must've done to remain looking so youthful. "She's an exact replica of Peeta" Venia comments to Flavius, who responds with a wise nod of his head. As the prep team begin to move closer, they all eventually catch sight of my hurt face - immediately the group back off, their faces disgusted and in contorted horrified expressions.

"What happened ?!" Flavius cries, his hands dramatically clasped over his mouth ; Octavia's face turns an even darker green as if she were going to be sick. "Well there was a little incident back at the reaping. One of the peacekeepers must've hit me or something" I hesitantly explain "You must've seen it on television" - the group looks at me like I'm talking gibberish ; they shake their heads in unison. Well I guess they cut it off but I vaguely recall the cameramen being really eager to catch a glimpse of the act, of me ; am I going mad ?

"Either way you guys need to sort this mess out ; the girl isn't going to get any sponsors at this rate looking like this" Ozais breaks the confused silence and begins rushing the prep team to begin work.

Their hands work magic on my face - it's looks brand new when they're done, maybe even better. I look the same as before just some light highlights and rosy cheeks with dark pink lipstick. I wince when they do my hair though, it feels as if someone's ripping the hair off my scalp - I get dressed into my parade outfit however I'm not allowed to see it until Ozais judges the final product. However from what I can see it's red, crimson red, blood red and jet black.

Before we know it, Ozais hobbles into the room to take the final look over. It feels like it's been ages when he approves of my look - I turn around to face the mirrors - I'm left speechless.

I'm in a jet black short jumpsuit, that comes to my neck and fades to red like coal to flames. My feet are dressed in knee high boots, which seem to have glowing red wire wrapped around resembling the embers of a fire. My golden locks have been tightly plaited all the way down my head, streaks of orange, yellow and red ribbon pop through the blonde threads. And finally the star of the show, around my shoulders flows a long cape, that streams behind my back like a wedding veil. However, while a wedding veil is innocent and pure, my cape seems deadly and intimidating yet powerful all at once. The cape wraps around my hands and is sparkling under the spotlights above my head.

"I look like my mother at her tribute parade" I comment, unaware it escaped my mouth - "Which one ?" Flavius laughs - immediately I turn to him my pale blue eyes shooting daggers, at sight of this he quickly stops laughing. Is this what banter is like in the Capitol ? It makes me sick, how could you say something like that and then find it funny ? I think the fumes from the perfume have seeped into their brains.

"Of course I had to take inspiration from the late Cinna" Ozias muses and gestures for me to begin walking with him, probably to where our chariots lay. "Is Nathan wearing the same thing ?" I ask, "Well, yes very similar however Allegra had her own few twists on his". I unconsciously nod, focusing too hard on not tripping on my cape and falling. Ozais walks quite quickly for someone with a walking stick, the next time I look up from my feet - there he is waiting for me by the chariot.