Deadly Game - Chapter 32

Heya, I'm sick, so this one is short, and not that interesting... but something, at least....

<3 Anna

Chapter 32

I wake up in a unfamiliar room, and my bed looks like a hospital bed. I move carefully, trying to asses my condition.

I seem to be perfectly fine.

My body doesn't hurt, and when I inspect my hands I see no scars. I sit up quietly, stretching and yawning. It feels like I've sleeping for a very long time.

The door opens, and someone enters the sterile room. It's a girl, and my still sleepy brain takes a few seconds to register the face.

It's June.

She smiles a little when she sees me awake, and sets down the tray of food she's carrying on the table beside my bed. I eat the small dose of food slowly, meat-soup, a small piece of bread and a glass of water. My body needs to adjust to eating again, after being asleep for so long.

"How long have I been asleep?" I ask. It's a neutral question, nothing in my voice shows that I know June.

She holds up two fingers.

Wow.

Two whole days. June takes the tray with her and leaves the room. Soon she's back with clothes. I don't look at them, I just dress, eager to get out of here. My emotions are still pushed away, and I know I can't keep them away forever. But right now they're neatly locked into the back of my head, until I can process them.

June motions for me to sit down, and holds up a finger. Wait.

I nod, watching as she once again leaves, then look down on my hands. They're perfect. No scars, nothing.

I trace my thumb, where there's always been a short scar, for the time I cut myself when I was younger. It's gone now too. And I hope that the memory won't fade with the scar.

I roll my shoulders, and it seems like they've treated my wound. It doesn't hurt at all.

Bet there isn't even a scar left.

I rise from the bed, my legs a little shaky. The muscles seem a little unused, but after a few steps they soften up.

There's a mirror, and I look at myself.

Somebody's put some make-up on me. Not much, just some concealer on my cheek, and something to frame my eyes. It won't be noticed, but I look better.

I touch my cheek. Why is there so much concealer?

My brain is still frozen, slow.

The door slides open, and I whirl around, leaving the room, stepping into a corridor. My eyes scan the area, noticing the cameras briefly before focusing on what's important.

Evan, Caro and Violet stand there, and I rush towards them, knowing this is all on live TV.

Caro's hug is soft, and she whispers,

"I'm so proud of you, Blossom."

Then Evan's arms surround me, and I'm lifted off the floor, spun in a circle. I laugh, and smile at him.

"Congratulations, Cass." He puts me down, his face showing that he has a lot to say to me later, when we're safe from the cameras, and Violet comes to gush over me.

"Well done, Cassidy, I knew you would win! Right from the beginning I told everyone that!" I smile politely, and then Evan's arm wraps around my shoulder, ushering me over to Caro.

"You better go with Caro, Cass. She has a lot of work to do now."

I give him one last look, and I see the understanding in his eyes. I just want to get away from all this, leave, go home. He experienced the same thing last year. I'm so glad he's here, helping me to get through this. A friend to relay on.

My boyfriend.

The thought fills me with warmness. Evan is going to be here. Evan understands. I'll be okay.

Caro leads me away from the cameras into a room.

"Cassidy!" My prep-team surrounds me. They have tears in their eyes, they hug me, they squeal, they almost jump of joy.

I wonder how much is really because I'm alive, and how much because they get to be the prep-team of a winner?

I shake away the thought. These three are not really so much like that. They seem very much like Capitol citizens on the outside, but the inside... well. They're rebels, both Heart and Marc. I don't know about Sizza, though. She seems nice. But maybe she's more of the snobby type than the others.

They start working on me. Apparently I'm cleaned up, and every scar has been removed from my body, so it's not hard work.

They do my body, fix my nails, and style my hair. Then they leave, Marc with a kiss to my forehead, and a whisper,

"Great job, Sea Princess."

Caro enters with my dress. I don't look at it – Caro would kill me if I did – as she hangs it into the small closet. I look at myself in the mirror.

I look like I always do.

I'm skinny, I have a tan. The only difference, really, are the scars.

"Why do they take the scars away?" I ask.

"I honestly don't know. Maybe they do what they think will mean something for you, and make your body perfect. Better than anyone's in District 4. Like, hold you up to a higher standard, raise you above the others. To show them in District 4 what they can get."

"That sounds like something the Capitol would do."

"Yes, the Capitol is very generous." Caro's comment makes me realize how stupid what I just said was. If we're monitored, that could have been taken as an insult. And I do not want the Capitol to hate me. The consequences of that would be disastrous.

"I wish they wouldn't have taken all the scars, though," I say quietly. "Some had memories attached to them."

"They didn't take all of them," Caro says, and turns me to look at the mirror again, not at her.

She keeps on hand on my shoulder, the other touches my cheek.

"Here," she says.

At first, I don't understand. What's there? Only concealer. My thoughts are blurry. Then I realize it's a covered scar. The one I got in the fight with the boy from twelve.

Tears well up in my eyes. I'm so glad to have it. The one reminder for me why I'm going to fight against the Capitol. The one reminder of my time in the Arena. It contains bad memories, blood, pain, and death. But also great ones – friendship, trust, love.

"Why?"

It's not anything that the Capitol's surgeons would care about. So why do I still have it?

"Evan forced them. He said you told him you wanted it. I said it too." I can hear the laughter in her voice. Both she and Evan know I never said anything like that, and they still know that this is exactly what I wanted. I have amazing friends, I realize.

"Thank you. So much, Caro."

She turns me around to give me a hug.

I close my eyes as she does my make-up, and keep them closed while she slips the dress over my head. I wait patiently as she arranges it, makes me step into a pair of heels, then tells me to look.

It's white, knee-length, and strapless. Small silver decorations strategically placed makes it the work of art it is. Caro is an amazing designer. I automatically straighten my shoulders, and she smiles.

Her hand covers my eyes, and the other places something in my hair.

When I'm allowed to look, it's a small cherry blossom.

"Stay strong, Blossom," Caro whispers.