Yawn. I am awoken by the Capitol constructed alarm clock. I look at the time and see “7:30AM”. I realize that I’m meeting with my stylists at 8:00 to prep for the tribute parade. I get dressed and go into Arbor’s room. I have to shake him awake to get up and we head into the breakfast room. I realize that the train has stopped. We’re here, in the Capitol. And dozens of people are staring at us through the glass, me in my long sleeved cream shirt and light blue wide leg jeans, and him in his… pajamas. Holding hands. Shoot. In all the commotion, I forgot to tell him to get dressed. This is quite a scene. I usher him upstairs and once he’s dressed we come back down to the still cheering crowd. I exhale and look around. There are gray buildings as high as the sky, and roads as far as the eye can see. My eyes become wide as I take it all in. Is this what it’s like to live in a city? I feel slightly overstimulated, and I once again long for my quiet home. Arbor starts waving to all the people cheering for us, and I reluctantly wave too. As the cheering continues, I pull Arbor away from the window and onto the train station concrete. We make our way into a building, led by Peacekeepers. I get shoved away from Arbor despite our holding hands and I find myself in a small room, probably underground. It has a bed and a hot iron. At first I thought I was being punished, and someone figured out about me going into the woods to write poetry. But then I realized, this is the prep for the tribute parade. I just figure this out when five people come in with a cart full of more makeup and things to help me get ready. The worst is the wax. Evidently they think I’m hairy, because my legs are waxed way too much. They look at me as an animal. A beast, no less. They comment about my hair disgustingly and they wrinkle their noses. I sigh and try to stay calm. As they apply my makeup, I wonder what theme they’ll be going for. They seem to be using a lot of green and brown, but then again those are our district 7 colors. “We should make them special. These two are especially attractive. Maybe something other than a tree!” I overhear one of them say. “Trees are classic. What do you want us to make them, axes?” Another one of them talks. Now they’ve all huddled around trying to figure out what to do and at this point I feel incredibly objectified. “Oh,” one of them says and gets back to doing my makeup when she realizes that there’s no one doing it. After more prepping and hours of pulling and pinching the prep team leaves me to the room. Alone. Finally. I sigh and lay back on the bed. Then, more Peacekeepers come in and escort me out of the room onto a floor with all of the tributes and 12 chariots. It’s time for the tribute parade. We all go through the line, with district 12 in their coal miners outfits as always and district 1 in sparkly, almost sheer, light pink provocative outfits. Go figure. And us in our tree outfits. Yet again. Sigh. After the parade, we’re led up to our rooms in the Capitol. They provide a dinner for us but I only eat a little of it before I retire to my room for the night. I yawn and collapse on my bed, and dreams envelop me in a warm cloud of sleep.
