Almost Me, Almost Human

As soon as the anthem ends, I'm being led into the Justice building. I'm taken into custody. There are no handcuffs or anything such as that, but it feels like it. The Peacekeepers push us out of sight from District 10. I believe a few tributes have tried to escape in the past; I haven't seen it, but my parents have.

My hand is clutching onto Ventis' and I know we're going to be dragged apart, but he's my lifeline now. I've already stepped out and gotten me known as Ressa to all of Panem, so there's no going back.

Once inside, I am brought into a room and left there alone. I don't sit on one of the chairs or couches. They're a dark blue color with bright greens that I have only seen when Clovius wears his ridiculous outfits.

Over the years of the games, our hour of visiting has been changed from our closest friends and family, to just one person in all. If Ventis had not volunteered, I would have wanted it to be him. Right now, I couldn't talk to my family, but I had to talk to someone. I had to get a message to them. If I talked to Ressa, she would immediately demand to switch places with me. We would do it to, like we had done on many occasions before.

There was a knock on my door, and Talia stuck her head in. I sighed. "I wish to talk to my father." She nodded, remembering the days when we could have as many visitors as we wanted, and disappeared back outside. There was barely even a minutes wait before my father came scrambling in through the door.

I took this moment to let my weakness out and run over to him. We cling to each other, and I bury my wet face against his tunic. There is nothing but silence between us as he strokes my hair.

"You shouldn't have done that, Dessa," he tells me, and I want to agree and take it all back and make them take Ressa, but I can't.

"I'm sorry," is all I can say, clutching his shirt in my hands as I continue to sob. I may as well get all my tears out now so I'm not seen as weak. I don't want to seem weak, but I don't want to seem like a target for a good fight either. I can't do anything but rope cattle and chase after chickens.

"There's no reason to be, baby girl." My father and I always held a tight bond. Whenever I was a baby, mother would usually find us napping in the sun together, my body resting against his bare chest. From there, we made a connection in our sleep and it never faded.

But it would fade this year, because I knew I was going to die. I could already feel the blood pooling under my body as I gasped for breath, my body spawning as I kept my blood pumping out. And there Ventis would be, off in the background watching with sad eyes.

"Daddy," I say, and it's the first time I've called him that in years. He embraces me closer. "I don't want to die."

And I can feel the tears still coming.

"I don't want you to die either, Dessa..."

We just stand there; I know my face is red and flushed. My eyes are bloodshot and itchy from the salt in the tears.

After a few minutes, I'm able to pull away, and catch him as he wipes at his eyes too.

"Why did you call me and not Ressa or your mother?" he asked, sitting on one of the soft, plush couches. It was like a baby rabbit's fur, smooth and soft.

"Because they would demand that I switch places with Ressa. You understand what I'm doing."

Her father blinked, tilting his head to the side. "I don't quite understand what you're doing, Dessa."

I smiled, kissing his cheek. "Not yet you don't." I had to ask myself what I was doing, but I couldn’t answer that question.

And then we just sit there, enjoying our last few moments as father and daughter. I briefly wonder how my mother and Ressa are taking it, but refrain from the thought because I know I'll start crying again.

"You're allowed to take one thing from your district with you," he stared, reaching into his pants pocket to pull out my mother's porcelain hair clip. I had only seen her wear it on a few occasions. It was valuable and, if sold at the right price, could get us a year of food and some more; we could buy more cows and chickens, and I knew mother was wanting more than anything to get a sow.

My father brushed a few stray hairs behind my ear and held them back with the clip. It was a simple barrette that slipped on with ease. The orange colors matched perfectly with my hair, and I knew it would be no problem wearing at the games. With a knock on the door, our hour ended. We hugged, and I had to bite my tongue to not cry as my father was pulled away from me.

"I love you, daddy," I got out weakly, shaking with the need to sob.

"I love you more, Dessa," he whispered in my ear, and I almost broke down there.

The Peacekeepers dragged him from the room, and I was left alone, again. A few moments of me wiping my face, the Peacekeepers come to get me. The ride to the station takes much longer than I would have liked; the car is making my stomach fight with me, and I have to hold my breath to keep my vomit down.

Ventis is at my side yet again, and my hand is clutching his as my knee bounces with anxiety. In District 10 we travel by either foot or horseback. There is no use for cars when you have a strong horse that needs exercise and you need to get somewhere.

I regret having cried when with my father, because once at the train station, there is nothing but the buzz of cameras and reporters, and I feel like a deer caught by a flashlight of a hunter. Ventis is having to pull me along, being the strong one of the two of us. I catch a glimpse of us on a nearby screen broadcasting our arrival. My hair is flying everywhere, my skin is blotchy, and I look like a weak fourteen year old, not like the eighteen year old I have just become.

We're forced to stand in front of the cameras as flashes of lights go off with our photograph being taken. I reach up to touch the pin in my hair, making sure it's still there as we are allowed in the train.

The doors shut behind us, and I no longer feel a loss of sight, but my ears ring with the hum of the train as it moves along the tracks. The speed takes my breath away, and I have to grab the wall to keep from falling. I really am going to vomit now...

Running to the nearest trash container I see, Ventis kindly holds back my hair as the train contains to lurch forward, and I empty my breakfast into the stainless, shiny pail.

The speed does nothing to help my already empty stomach as I heave a few more times before finally standing and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. The ride to the Capitol will only take a few hours with the speed averaged at over 250. District 10 is placed in the heart of what was once known as the Plains of Texas. The Capitol is where something called the Rockies used to be.

In school, we don't learn much other than the basic math and reading and animal science. It always goes back to the animals, though. It's as if they're more important than the people who raise them.

My father is what we call 'cowboy'. He ropes the cattle and sheep, and brings them to mother for skinning and shaving. My mother leathers hides and turns the wool from the sheep into cloth. We are just a small part of the 'ranch' that makes up District 10.

The tribute train is a lot nicer than I thought. I thought it was more like the Justice building, but we had our own rooms, and bathrooms with running water. We usually had to collect our water from wells. Talia led me to it after gathering me from Ventis and helped me into the shower.

The water was warm, and it was a rare feel that I only felt when I was caught in the rain out in the fields. Talia left me to myself as I stood under the water, washing away the clammy feeling of sickness. I rinsed my mouth out a few times before turning the knobs to turn off the water. I was left naked, dripping dry before stepping out and grabbing for the fluffy, warm towel that Talia had left out for me.

There were drawers and dressers filled with clothes that Talia told me I could pick through, but advised me to just dress how I normally would. I nodded. Had her mentor said the same thing to her all those years ago when she was picked as tribute at the age of fourteen? Here I was eighteen, acting like a ten year old.

I chose a pair of brown leggings that I would usually wear when I went riding into the fields on one of the Greyson's horses. Over it I picked a slightly baggy pale pink tunic and tied it off with a belt. There were a hundred different pairs of shoes, but I, again, picked simple brown boots. Next was the battle with my hair. I found an assortment of combs and brushes in the bathroom, and now that my hair was wet, I could usually win the fight with it.

I broke one comb, made of some cheaply formulated plastic, but just moved onto the next one. Once my hair was free of tangles, I ran the towel over it to dry out the last bits of water before brushing it again.

Once my hair was just a tad bit damp, but not tangling again, I grabbed my mother's hair clip, sliding my finger over the smooth, beautifully sculpted side. It was a carved landscape of genetically mutated flowers that the Capitol had experimented with. They were quite rare, since the Capitol only made a few bushes, although the flower itself was deadly. If pricked by one of the thorns, there was a poison that would instantly be injected into your system - you're dead in a week from a slow and excoriating decomposition of your body. You're alive while your body is dying.

My mother said they were called the Hades Rose. It was a beautiful creation with a deadly purpose. My great grandmother told my mother that it had been named after a god that was once worshipped in ancient times. My great grandmother was alive before the Hunger Games began, and was picked her eighteenth year. She was the Victor, but died awhile before Ressa and I were born.

The material it was made of, porcelain was a rare as the Hades Rose. The art of making porcelain was long lost before the Dark Days. Any porcelain owned today came from before the chaos that through North America to become Panem. It was such a rarity that not even the elite of the Capitol had any. Only the President was allowed such a thing, and it was never used. Never.

Sighing, I ran my hand over the carving one last time before reaching up to use it to hold back my bangs. Talia Grustso came for me when supper was ready. She walked me down the narrow hallway that led to many other rooms. The floor weaves as the train moved along its tracks and I knew if I didn't sit down soon I was going to vomit again.

Galton Trueseer is sitting at the table that awaits us. His fiery red hair stands in purposefully placed spikes that lean inward. He sits straight, with posture that you usually don't see in District 10. Beside him his Clovius Famblegarth in another brightly colored shirt and pant set that make my eyes blink a few times to get used to the brightness. His green and blue dyed hair blends marvelously well with his clothes. Although, his plain brown eyes seem plain compared to the shock of blue eye makeup he wears.

We sit, and I hear myself ask, "Where's Ventis?"

No one speaks at first, whether not knowing or not willing to answer, before I hear my fellow Tribute walking into the room and sitting across from me. I know he's been crying - the bloodshot veins in his eyes tell me that much.

"Hello, Ventis," I say softly. He looks at me, and I see drips of water sliding down from his freshly washed hair. He gives me the best thing of a smile that he can. Is he regretting volunteering with me? I'm surely not worth it...

"Hello... Ressa."

I bite my lip. He hesitated, because he knows it's me, Dessa, but he can't say that in front of all of us. I know he can't.

“Well, hasn’t this been an exhausting day?” Clovius says, and waves for the servants to bring us our supper. It comes in an array of courses, and I’m surprised at all that they serve. Some of it I’ve only seen in old recipe books that my mother kept from her grandmother.

There’s a thick tomato soup, with melted cheese sitting at the bottom of the bowl, and we dip torn off pieces of bread into it as a spoon. I’m surprised at such a thing, since we usually use silverware whenever eating stew. A leafy, bright green salad follows, with a creamy white sauce on it made from eye whites, and spices that I’ve never heard of before. It has an appealing taste to it. Then there are platters of what I can only guess is the good meet of a hog, smothered in juices of what I’m told is a pineapple fruit. They’re rarer than porcelain. And as a treat, to summarize up the delicious, rich meal, is a spongy cake with ten or so layers of chocolate as thick as my small finger in between the layers.

With chilled glasses of milk, it all does down wonderfully, and I’m wondering how I’m getting it all to stay down.

After we’ve eaten, Talia and Galton took us to another train car, and Clovius disappeared to do as he always does; be our escort and do escort things. I don’t know exactly what those things are, but they must be important.

There’s a television in the sitting room that makes up most of the car. Talia and I sit on one of the plush couches, while Galton and Ventis sit on the one off to our side. More than anything, I just want to be by Ventis as he comforts me. I’m scared to death, and only he knows who I truly am.

We watch the recaps of the reapings, and I do all I can to focus my mind on picking out the competition and seeing who I’m up against. Only a handful sticks out to me, and I make a mental note to find out what I can during training.

There’s a girl from District 1, tall and lean, that cries the whole time, and I wonder if that’s really who she is or if she’s just playing an act. It’s been done plenty of times. A boy with a metal leg limps to the stage, needing help from a pair of Peacekeepers. No one volunteers for him, and I know he’ll be one of the first to go. The two tributes from 7 are siblings, the boy older than the girl. I know if it comes down to just the two of them left, the boy will take his own life. And the one that I knew I was going to have to watch out for was a burly boy, eighteen-year-old, that stood taller than most of the men of District 10. Could District 9 really produce children that big?

Then they showed District 10, and the blank looks on Talia and Galton’s faces, and Clovius calling out my twin’s name. Except I stepped out inside. It was then that I saw the true looks on my parents’ faces, and after Selop was called, how Ventis volunteered immediately.

They were fading the camera’s view when Ressa ran into the square, and I saw my mother step up to her just as it cut off to the reaping of District 11.

Immediately, before the Mayor of 11 could speak, I stood and bounded out of the car and to my room. It was only a matter of hours before we arrived, but I needed to be away from everyone. Ventis called after me, and I felt his fingers just grip mine before I tugged my hand away and slammed the door in his face.

I felt horrible for doing it, but it was the only way I could cut myself away. Not only had I brought on my death from taking Ressa’s spot in the Games, but I also insured Ventis’ as well.

I was the murderer of myself, and of my closest friend.