by Jon Thorn
I stand in the crowd in front of the justice building. I am as nervous as all the other girls but there is no big sister to squeeze my hand, no anxious mother or father waiting and hoping with the other parents. I am alone, the oldest girl from the District Ten orphanage. My dress is a grey, drab, my dark hair lank around my shoulders. They are about to draw the names for the Pain Games - the two girls who will go up to the Capitol for this year's ritual humiliation. It is the first time my name has been entered, the first time I am old enough. I shiver, although it isn't cold.
I have watched the Pain Games on the big screen for the last three years and it has always been difficult to watch. I feel for those boys and girls who have to take part. I have a sense of what they are going through. I am no stranger to corporal punishment. I have never been a good girl, never been a biddable child and in the orphanage they don't spare the strap. Many times I have had to assume the position over the end of my bed, my dress raised, my knickers around my knees.
I think back to the last time. It was different to before. It always hurts but last time it got to me in another way. I feel myself blushing as I remember the feelings - the feelings of excitement and shame. It turned me on, that's the truth of it. I don't know what to make of that. Does anyone else ever get worked up like that? There is no-one I can talk to, no-one I can confide in. It should just be a punishment, I shouldn't derive any pleasure from it, so why does it do that to me? The thought of two whole days of corporal punishment is both scary and exciting, and that's why I shiver. Hopefully it won't be my name that comes out of the bowl.
The man from the Capitol is called 'Melvin Hughes' and there is a nasty leer in his voice.
"Now ladies..." he smiles at us, "I won't keep you on tenterhooks for much longer. I am sure you're all dying to know who's going to have the privilege of representing District Ten in the 63rdPain Games! Which lucky, lucky girl is going to have the chance to appear on our screens to entertain us all? Let's find out shall we?"
He dips his hand into the glass globe and I watch as his fingers catch a single slip of paper. Even before he pulls the paper out I have a strong sense that it is going to be me. He unfolds the piece of paper and beams around at us.
"Lucinda Colquen!" he announces. "Lucinda! Lucy! Do come and join me on the stage!"
It is almost as though I have suddenly contracted some nasty disease. The girls around me step back, leaving me on my own. I feel their eyes on me. The crowd parts as I take the long lonely walk to the front.
"Lucinda!" Melvin beams as I walk up the steps onto the stage. He takes me by the wrist and turns me round to face the crowd. I glare at them, defiant and are met by their indifferent stares. There is no-one rooting for me, no-one on my side. They are just glad that it's an orphan girl and not one of their precious daughters. It is different when the second name is drawn.
"Charlotte Lindman," Melvin announces.
There is a collective gasp from one section of the crowd. The girl that makes her way to the front is older than me. She is pretty, her dark hair cut in an attractive bob and the decent dress that she is wearing tells me that she doesn't work on a farm. She must be a manager or administrator. She looks deathly pale and as scared as I am. She comes and stands next to me on the stage, she is a couple of inches taller than me.
It is only when the ceremony is open and we are waiting inside the justice building that we get the chance to talk.
"Hi," she says, managing a nervous smile. "I'm Charlotte."
"Lucinda," I reply.
"I never thought it would be me," she says. "I'm twenty this year, so this was my last chance."
"That's unlucky."
"Yeah, it was, but not as unlucky as you. I'm guessing it's the first time your name's been entered?"
I nod my head. "Somehow I was expecting it. I don't seem to get many breaks in life."
"Orphan?" she asks, noting my grey dress.
"Yes," I say. "Mum and Dad both died in the plague when I was only two, I don't really remember them."
"I'm sorry," she says, and I can tell she means it.
As I guessed she's no farm labourer. She works in the admin department of one of the large dairies. Her parents also work for the same company, it's the way it often goes. For girls like her there's a relatively privileged life, for girls like me the only future is hard manual work on the farms. But I don't resent Charlotte for that - she didn't choose to be born into that life any more than I chose to be an orphan. As we chat I find that I really like her.
"I'm scared at the thought of what we're going to," she admits. "No-one has ever laid a finger on me. Have you ever been punished?"
I nod. "All too often I'm afraid," I tell her. "They like to use the strap in the orphanage."
"What's it like?" she asks anxiously.
"Painful," I say. "But you'll live."
I try to give her an encouraging smile, but we've both seen enough of the Pain Games over the years to under no illusions about what we'll be facing. The punishments are far more severe and prolonged than anything I've ever experienced. Perhaps it would have been better not to have had a taste of it?
The train takes us to the Capitol. It's a three day journey but the time isn't wasted. The prep teams go to work on us. For Charlotte the make-over is fairly restrained, for me it's a complete transformation.
My stylist is Holli and she looks me over with a very critical eye.
"Undress for me," she says.
I hesitate. "No point in being shy," she says curtly. "The whole country is going to be getting a good look at all you've got soon enough."
It's true, the participants in the Pain Games inevitably end up naked at some point in the proceedings. I shrug and start to unbutton my dress. The small pile of clothes that I end up with look rather forlorn, the underwear and socks almost as grey as the dress. Holli looks at the pile and wrinkles her nose in disgust. "Those can go in the incinerator," she says firmly.
I don't disagree, I have no emotional attachment to my orphanage clothes.
"Now let me get a proper look at you," Holli says. "Stand up straight with your hands at your side."
She walks slowly around me. "Hmm... not bad," she remarks. "Your breasts are on the small side, but quite pert, you've got a nice flat stomach and decent legs... and yes, a really good round bottom, very callipygous." I don't know what the word means but it sounds like approval. "However, your hair... and your eyebrows..." these features are obviously not to her liking. "I think we're going to have to change your look completely."
And that's what she does. Over the next couple of days she goes to work on me. Skin, hair, nails, all receive close attention. She wants me completely smooth, every bit of body hair has to go. As to the hair on my head, that receives the most work. I am no longer a brunette, now I am completely blonde. I have to admit she does it very skilfully. Many girls in District Ten dye their hair but you can always tell. You can't tell with what Holli has done. I look like a natural blonde. She lightens my eyebrows too so that they match my hair. My hazel eyes turn blue with the help of tinted contact lenses. When I look at myself in the mirror I hardly recognise the pretty fair-haired girl staring back at me.
The image that Holli wants me to project is the little orphan girl, brave despite her circumstances, wonderfully pretty though blissfully unaware of it.
"They'll love you," she assures me. "You'll get the sympathy vote. It's always the same with the Pain Games - there are the sophisticated or arrogant ones that everyone wants to see taken down a peg or two, the viewers are dying for them to get punished. But then there are the innocent looking ones - everyone is rooting for them so there's a delicious guilt when they end up on the receiving end."
I don't feel very reassured but I don't mind the image she has created for me. One thing's for sure, I look a whole lot better than I did two days ago.
The Capitol is breath-taking. Charlotte and I stand at the train window and gaze at the city. It is so vast, so beautiful. We are taken from the train to a beautifully appointed apartment. There is luxury here that I have never seen before and more food and drink than would sustain the whole orphanage for more than a month. Stupidly I over-indulge and up feeling rather sick.
Thankfully I am feeling ok for the interview the next day. Holli briefs me beforehand and I do the best I can, answering the questions with wide-eyed innocence, playing the part she has written for me. She is pleased with me afterwards so I must have come up to scratch. I watch Charlotte do hers. She is cool and sophisticated and yet charming too. I wonder what the viewing public will make of her?
I sleep surprisingly well. Holli does my hair and make-up and then when Charlotte is ready we are taken by monorail shuttle to the venue. We gather in a conference room. Slowly the room starts to fill with the contestants. Everyone seems a little over-awed by the experience and there is little talk beyond a few anxious whispers. When all twenty-four of us are there the doors at the back of the room open and a young woman strides forward to take her place at the lectern.
I have never seen anyone so beautiful before. She is tall and blonde and she is dressed with an utterly simple elegance. She looks just a little older than most of us, in her early twenties I guess.
"Good morning and welcome to you all," she says, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "I am Imogen Goldthorpe and I am the Game Maker for this year's Pain Games. All that happens to you in the arena is by my design and under my control. I intend that the sixty-third Pain Games will be the most imaginative and entertaining that Panem has ever seen. All of you will have watched the games in the past and I have no doubt that none of you would have chosen to be a participant. However, fate has decreed that you will represent your District and I would encourage you to enter as fully as you can into the event so that your families can be proud of you and your fortitude. The format of the games will be similar, but not identical, to previous years. I have introduced some little changes of my own that I hope will be appreciated - if not by you then at least by the audience. And make no mistake, The Pain Games is a hugely popular show here in the Capitol."
She smiles at us as though the thought of thousands watching our suffering should be an encouragement to us.
"In a break from recent tradition the games this year will have a theme that will run through every round. I am delighted to announce that we will be travelling back in time to the world of ancient Rome!"
I have little idea of what that means. At school we don't do much academic work beyond reading, writing and arithmetic.
"The Romans, like us, were very fond of their games and built vast stadia so that the populous could watch their heroes perform. One form of entertainment was the athletic contest. Athletes would compete in running races, in tests of strength and endurance and in personal combat. It is the latter that we shall be emulating today. In Roman times athletes would wrestle, each man seeking to win by pinning his opponent down for a certain length of time. This morning you girls will be wrestling each-other. But the way to win will not be through pinning your opponent but rather by being the first to land six smacks on her bottom. There will be a series of contests that will determine the placing for the first round and will also decide who will be hunters and prey in the next." She pauses and looks around the room. "Are there any questions?" No-one speaks. "In that case, your stylists have thirty minutes to prepare you and to bring you through to the entry room."
I find Holli waiting at the back of the room. She leads me into a little cubicle. She sits me down and does my hair, arranging it into two blonde plaits. While she is working a technician comes and inserts something into my ear.
"It's a sensor and comms device," he explains, "Don't try to get it out you'll only injure yourself."
I nod my understanding.
"What am I wearing?" I ask Holli when she has finished with my hair.
She grimaces. "I said there was no point in being shy didn't I?" I nod. "Well I'm afraid that back in ancient times Roman athletes competed in the nude - you're going in there naked."
I swallow hard. I'm not embarrassed by my body and heaven knows there's little privacy in the orphanage but the thought of being naked in front of the whole country is something else entirely. But I have no choice in the matter. I stand up. I unzip my dress and let it slip from my shoulders. Holli undoes my bra strap and I kick off my shoes and slip my knickers down. It feels very strange to stand there completely nude knowing that that is how I am going into the arena. But Holli hasn't finished with me yet. She takes a bottle of oil and starts to apply it to my body.
"It makes it harder for anyone else to get a grip on you," she tells me. "It's what the Romans used to do they say."
When she has finished I look at myself in the mirror, I glisten. She leads me out to the entry room. Every girl has been prepared the same. I move across to stand next to Charlotte. She is very red in the face.
"Are you alright?" I ask her.
She gives a little shake of her head. "I knew that we would probably be naked at some point," she says. "I just didn't expect it so soon."
"Maybe it's better to get it over with rather than dreading it happening,"
"Maybe," she says unconvinced. "I only hope that I don't have to fight you."
"Me too," I agree. Charlotte and I have grown close over the last couple of days, it would be horrible to have to wrestle with her.
We fall silent as the doors close behind us. The ceiling opens above us and the floor starts to rise. We are lifted into the arena. A wave of cheering greets us. The arena is a coliseum - there are tiers of seating all round and every seat is filled! We have a live audience - which only seems to add to the embarrassment. I feel my face go as red as Charlotte's. I jump as a voice speaks into my ear. We are instructed to stand in a circle around the edge of the arena facing the round cotton matting.
A voice speaks over the speakers. "The rules of the contest are very simple. The start of the bout will be indicated by the ringing of a bell. It will end when one girl has succeeded in placing six smacks on the bottom of her opponent. Our first two competitors are - Kimmily Dowern from District Three... and Charlotte Lindman from District Ten." Charlotte gives a little gasp of horror beside me and I reach out and squeeze her hand.
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