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

The interviews

I dose on and off through sleep and being awake while I silently chew on some unnaturally yellow eggs and buttered toast. Most of breakfast, I've been scraping the food on my plate around with a fork, which creates the most excruciating sound, hoping at some point it may disappear without me physically eating anything ; but hope never gets you anywhere. I could hope to be alive in the arena but that wouldn't actually help me protect myself against an attack now would it. Or children in the seam could hope for a million dollars but that would be an extreme long shot and an intense amount of luck, something none of us clearly possess. No one knows what to say to me, to break my silence ; I think they believe I've given up, not going to lie I'm greatly considering it.

I'm fully aware of the secretive looks Effie and Haymitch are giving me but the only person I'm actually acting like exists at this table is Nathan. When I know i can't force myself to eat no more, I flop my hands on my lap and just stare into endless space, my mind wandering into execrable places ; indiscreetly Nathan slips his hand under the table, envelopes mine within his and sympathetically squeezes it. I just hope, beg even, he doesn't let go. I can still feel Haymitch's eyes on me, that familiar glare of anger plastered on his face reminding me of my mothers' ; I jolt in surprise as he loudly throws his knife and fork onto the metallic table "If you guys care to know, tonight will be your interviews with Olly" he irritatedly begins, wiping his forehead with his hands - probably due to worry and stress "This will be your final chance to gain attention from the audience. To gain sponsors for the.. games". His gaze stares me like a reflection in a mirror as if he's mentally asking for permission to talk about the games, to talk about my upcoming death. I look away. I can't bear to look back at those eyes which hold so much of back home, that have witnessed the same horrors i will, that remind me too much of my mom. Her eyes are similar yet so different in many ways ; Haymitch's are always bloodshot due to his atrocious drinking habits and underlined with saggy bags because of his sleepless nights whereas my mom's are a strong grey matching her fiery temper and will to do the right thing but in those rare times where the back of her mind takes control ; it's like they were never there. Her eyes become hollow like a hopeless black pit and wash over with a light grey, a sure sign that she's scared, that her strength has been taken ; stolen by those in power. They went like that on reaping day, I can only imagine what she looks like now ; probably curled up in bed, her tears gone dry after endless hours of crying, has gone mute, refusing to eat. It's ironic how closely matching our emotions are right now yet I'm farther away from my mother than I've ever been in my whole entire life. They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul, I've always wondered what happens when your eyes close for good ? I can't help but think of how many souls the Capitol have taken when a tribute closes their eyes for the last time in the arena. Surely billions by now.

"Lilly ?, Lilly ?" says Nathan while gently shaking my shoulder, "Yeah ?" I weakly croak as I break from my trance-like state, my voice sore and hoarse from not being used for the last 15 hours. Nathan's dark eyebrows direct over to Haymitch who seemed to have stopped speaking something that hadn't registered in my brain. I raise my eyebrows for him to continue which earns me a quite aggravated huff, "So you guys each have four hours to get prepared for the interviews then you go off with your prep teams to get ready" says Haymitch "Four hours to do what exactly ?" Nathan asks, using the point of his knife to make shapes in a sauce left on his plate "Two hours content, the others for presentation" Haymitch grunts with his lips screwed up in a harsh snarl "Or do you not want to get sponsors boy". Nate's pupils dilate in fury, "No, I don't see the point ! Why am I hopping around like some fucking trained dog trying to please people I hate !" "Nathan, language !" Effie exclaims in horror with her hands clasped over her mouth. This whole time she's been quiet, making the occasional chewing and swallowing sounds "Shut up, you ugly bitch ! Let's be honest here, you don't actually care about us. You see me and Lilly as something you can use and train like an animal to just help you get bumped up to a better district !" Nathan shouts with pure disgust and hatred, his eyes shooting evil daggers at poor Effie, who now frantically shakes like a frightened child "So you can leave this drunken bozo of a mentor !".