I again haven't checked for errors yet, but will do another time ;)

Feedback is always welcome!

Chapter 5

I´m leaning against the door and sit slumped down on the ice cold marble floor.

I try to steady my shaky breathing and angrily wipe the tears away, feeling weak and stupid.

I´ve always made myself believe I didn´t care what people thought about me, whether they cared for me or not. I’ve always acted tough and distant, but deep down I was just a girl who wanted to be loved, I still am that girl. But I don´t want to be her, I don´t want to be so vulnerable and emotional, because that means getting hurt and beaten down by this harsh world.

Point is, I am hurt, I can act all though and make myself believe I don’t care, but it doesn’t help because I can’t lie to my heart; my heart yearns for love and friendship.

Maybe I should just let my façade go, and try to be the girl I´m expected to be,

maybe I should just go with it all, be polite and sweet; it can’t hurt to try right?

I don’t know exactly how long I’ve been in this position, but my limps are all stiff when I get up, I stretch out and walk towards the sink. I look in the mirror and see a sad, sloppy looking girl staring back at me. My make-up is smeared all over my face, my eyes are red and puffy  from all the crying and my ponytail is saggy. It’s not that I really care about how I look, if it weren’t for my mom I would probably never wear any make-up and just put my hair in a messy bun, but seeing my reflection in the mirror makes me realize that if I don’t want to look like I’m dying, or at least very ill, I’ll have to wear make-up and fashion my hear. So I open the drawer and get the make-up out, I place it on the side of the washstand and open it. There is a whole color palette of only bright colors; green blue, yellow and pink.

Since pink is the color of the season, I grab a make-up brush and put some light pink eye shadow on it. Usually my mom does my make-up, so I’m not particularly good at it, but I’ve seen her do it so many times that I know how to do it.

 I’m only going to wear little make-up, but it’s still more than I usually would. I put the eyeshade on my eyelids and then grab the mascara. I already have quite long eyelashes, but since almost everyone wears fake ones, mine look always very short compared to the other’s , even after putting what seems like hundred layers on.

I look in the mirror and am quite happy with my progress; even though the pink doesn’t go very well with my green eyes, my eyes do stand out, although that’s probably because of all the mascara.

My eyes are no longer red and puffy, which helps a lot too. The only things I need to do now is apply some rouge and lipstick and brush my hair and  decide what to do with it, maybe braid it, or should I just let it fall over my shoulders?

Let’s start with the lipstick and rouge first… I open the drawer again and have to choose out of various colors of lipstick and rouge, I have enough make-up to start a small shop; it’s ridiculous, especially since I don’t even like wearing it.

I settle for the cherry blossom pink lipstick and the baby pink colored rouge, of which I only apply very little.

I look in the mirror to see the result and am not let down; I think I actually look quite good to be honest, apart from the hair at least; that still needs some fixing.

I open another drawer and take the brush out of it.

A lot of people wear wigs, and by a lot I mean practically every woman living here, and probably a lot of men too, but I hate them and luckily don’t have to wear them, since I’m still young.

I try to get rid of all the tangles, and succeed after a couple of painful minutes of roughly brushing my hair. I decide to just let my hair down, but to make it a little more festive curl it.

My hair is already naturally wavy, but I like curls better.

I open yet another drawer and plug it in the socket. I wait a minute or two for it to heat up and then begin curling one lock at a time. It takes about seven minutes before I’m done curling it; the only thing left to do now is use hairspray so the curls stay put. I open yet another drawer and search for the hairspray among all the other bottles and sprays.

When found, I take it, close the drawer and begin to spray, a cloud of chemical smelling mist forming and making me couch. I cover my nose and mouth and spray wildly around me before I stop because the whole room is full of the fumes, and I don’t want my hair to rigid.

I pull the plug out of the socket and wait until the curler has cooled down before I put it back in its place.

I exit the bathroom and walk into my bedroom, a little hesitant to leave after my outburst from a while ago, but I have decided I would try to be a better daughter and be less bitter, and staying in my room is not going to help me achieve that.

So I take a deep breath and leave my room; ready to make amends with my mother and sister.

Well ready is not the right word because ughh, this is going to be hard and humiliating for I know my sister is going to react all cocky and victorious, but I’ll have to put my pride aside if I want to make things better, if I want to be better.

I first walk towards the living room, but halfway there I hear voices coming from my sister’s room, so I head there instead. I knock two times and open the door, not waiting for a reply. My sister is sitting on the chair and mom is busy doing her make-up, too busy to have noticed my arrival. I scrape my throat and take a couple of steps in their direction.  Still no reaction, okay then….

‘Mom?’ I say in a small voice.

She continues applying deep pink eye shadow, and I first think she hasn’t heard me, but she then turns to look at me when she’s finished.

‘Yes  Hannelore?’ she replies coldly, okay not really encouraging, but here we go….

‘I’m sorry…’ I apologize, looking down at my feet, because I can’t look into her ice cold blue eyes.

She sighs  but remains quiet, so I continue talking ‘ I know I’m stubborn and far from perfect, but I promise I’ll try to be better, I promise I will make you proud of me.’

I look up slowly and her eyes meet mine; and instead of looking at me coldly, her eyes are full of warmth, and maybe even a little love?

‘I am proud of you Hannelore, although it frustrates me most of the time; I admire your strength and determination.’ she states.

Her answer takes be my surprise, who could’ve know she was proud of me, and who would’ve thought she would actually admit it.

Not knowing what to say, I decide to just smile at her and she smiles back at me. She places the make-up on Tule’s canopy bed, and walks to me with open arms. It takes a second before I realize what she’s about to do, and when my mind process it I’m chocked; she’s about to hug me!

It may be the most common gesture from mother to daughter, but for me and my mom it sure isn’t; I can’t remember the last time we hugged, or even showed any sign of affection towards each other.  So when she wraps her arms around me awkwardly, probably not exactly sure what to do either, I gawky pat her back. I must say I enjoy the embrace, is it a little logy, it’s a great start at bonding with my mom.   

We let go of each other after and both take a step back, creating some space between us.

Tule is still sitting on the chair, practically all dolled up apart from her blonde hair, and looks at me strangely.

‘I’ll let you finish and will be waiting for you in the living room, okay mom?’ I say politely.

‘Of course, we will be done soon.’ She replies, already with a brush in her hand and standing behind Tule.

My mother’s perception of time is clearly different than mine, because I don’t count thirty minutes as ‘soon’. I had turned the projector on, but the only thing that was being broadcast was the replay of the reaping and the arrival of the tributes this morning, so I quickly turned it off.

I promised myself I’d try to fit in, but I’ll never be able to enjoy the games, or anything that has something to do with it.

But since watching television is ruled out, and I’m all ready to go, there’s nothing left to do but wait, it can’t be to too long now anyway right?

Turns out I was wrong, because it´s been an extra fifteen minutes and they´re still not here, maybe Tule´s hair set fire, or she got an allergic reaction to all her make-up?

Okay now Hannelore, don’t get too hopeful, it just takes a while to make her ugly face look presentable… oh who am I kidding, my sister looks always beautiful with her perfect curly blond locks, her ice cold, but beautiful bright blue eyes and her flawless skin: if only her personality had not been so rotten, she would have been perfect.

So when she and mom finally walk in, I’m not surprised that she looks stunning, even though I’m not a great fan of the capitol look or the color pink.

Her hair is pinned up in a big hair bun, her make up- is it a little too much- has been applied neatly, with a couple of tiny pink rubies arranged above her perfectly plucked eyebrows, it may sound ugly, but, on her at least, it looks good.

Those same rubies are also incorporated into the neckline of her candy pink dress.

Not wanting another nasty comment about my staring, I look at mom instead of her. ‘Are we going?’ I ask her, sounding way more eager than I actually am.

‘Yes, after we’ve put on our coats, it’s probably quite chilly outside.’ she says and walks ahead to the corridor.

 I’m about to follow her but am held at my place by the strong grip of my sister, who looks at me suspiciously ‘I don’t know what your devious plan is, but whatever it is, I’m going to make sure you won’t succeed.’ she says evilly while squishing my arm very hard.  She then gives me one last pinch and then lets go and trails behind our mother, who has missed Tule’s and my little ‘chat’.

There is no way in hell I’m going to apologize to her now!

I rub my sore arm and walk towards mom and Tule who are already wearing their coats. I grab my own, the extremely warm and ‘I’m ready for a snow blizzard’ pink fur one.

I don’t button up, because it will be warm in the car and because now mom and Tule are the ones waiting for a change.

The car is already waiting in front of the house for god knows how long when we walk outside, so we quickly get in and wait for our driver to take off, which he does almost immediately