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第62章

the hunger games-饥饿游戏(英文版)-第62章

小说: the hunger games-饥饿游戏(英文版) 字数: 每页4000字

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 through my silken hair when I freeze。 Apprehensively I ruffle the hair by my left ear。 No; it wasnˇt an illusion。 I can hear again。
I try and sit up; but some sort of wide restraining band around my waist keeps me from rising more than a few inches。 The physical confinement makes me panic and Iˇm trying to pull myself up and wriggle my hips through the band when a portion of the wall slides open and in steps the redheaded Avox girl carrying a tray。 The sight of her calms me and I stop trying to escape。 I want to ask her a million questions; but Iˇm afraid any familiarity would cause her harm。 Obviously I am being closely monitored。 She sets the tray across my thighs and presses something that raises me to a sitting position。 While she adjusts my pillows; I risk one question。 I say it out loud; as clearly as my rusty voice will allow; so nothing will seem secretive。 ¨Did Peeta make it?〃 She gives me a nod; and as she slips a spoon into my hand; I feel the pressure of friendship。
I guess she did not wish me dead after all。 And Peeta has made it。 Of course; he did。 With all their expensive equipment here。 Still; I hadnˇt been sure until now。
As the Avox leaves; the door closes noiselessly after her and I turn hungrily to the tray。 A bowl of clear broth; a small serving of applesauce; and a glass of water。 This is it? I think grouchily。 Shouldnˇt my homeing dinner be a little more spectacular? But I find itˇs an effort to finish the spare meal before me。 My stomach seems to have shrunk to the size of a chestnut; and I have to wonder how long Iˇve been out because I had no trouble eating a fairly sizable breakfast that last morning in the arena。 Thereˇs usually a lag of a few days between the end of the petition and the presentation of the victor so that they can put the starving; wounded; mess of a person back together again。 Somewhere; Cinna and Portia will be creating our wardrobes for the public appearances。 Haymitch and Effie will be arranging the banquet for our sponsors; reviewing the questions for our final interviews。 Back home; District 12 is probably in chaos as they try and organize the homeing celebrations for Peeta and me; given that the last one was close to thirty years ago。
Home! Prim and my mother! Gale! Even the thought of Primˇs scruffy old cat makes me smile。 Soon I will be home!
I want to get out of this bed。 To see Peeta and Cinna; to find out more about whatˇs been going on。 And why shouldnˇt I? I feel fine。 But as I start to work my way out of the band; I feel a cold liquid seeping into my vein from one of the tubes and almost immediately lose consciousness。
This happens on and off for an indeterminate amount of time。 My waking; eating; and; even though I resist the impulse to try and escape the bed; being knocked out again。 I seem to be in a strange; continual twilight。 Only a few things register。 The redheaded Avox girl has not returned since the feeding; my scars are disappearing; and do I imagine it? Or do I hear a manˇs voice yelling? Not in the Capitol accent; but in the rougher cadences of home。 And I canˇt help having a vague; forting feeling that someone is looking out for me。
Then finally; the time arrives when I e to and thereˇs nothing plugged into my right arm。 The restraint around my middle has been removed and I am free to move about。 I start to sit up but am arrested by the sight of my hands。 The skinˇs perfection; smooth and glowing。 Not only are the scars from the arena gone; but those accumulated over years of hunting have vanished without a trace。 My forehead feels like satin; and when I try to find the burn on my calf; thereˇs nothing。
I slip my legs out of bed; nervous about how they will bear my weight and find them strong and steady。 Lying at the foot of the bed is an outfit that makes me flinch。 Itˇs what all of us tributes wore in the arena。 I stare at it as if it had teeth until I remember that; of course; this is what I will wear to greet my team。
Iˇm dressed in less than a minute and fidgeting in front of the wall where I know thereˇs a door even if I canˇt see it when suddenly it slides open。 I step into a wide; deserted hall that appears to have no other doors on it。 But it must。 And behind one of them must be Peeta。 Now that Iˇm conscious and moving; Iˇm growing more and more anxious about him。 He must be all right or the Avox girl wouldnˇt have said so。 But I need to see him for myself。
¨Peeta!〃 I call out; since thereˇs no one to ask。 I hear my name in response; but itˇs not his voice。 Itˇs a voice that provokes first irritation and then eagerness。 Effie。
I turn and see them all waiting in a big chamber at the end of the hall  Effie; Haymitch; and Cinna。 My feet take off without hesitation。 Maybe a victor should show more restraint; more superiority; especially when she knows this will be on tape; but I donˇt care。 I run for them and surprise even myself when I launch into Haymitchˇs arms first。 When he whispers in my ear; ¨Nice job; sweetheart;〃 it doesnˇt sound sarcastic。 Effieˇs somewhat teary and keeps patting my hair and talking
about how she told everyone we were pearls。 Cinna just hugs me tight and doesnˇt say anything。 Then I notice Portia is absent and get a bad feeling。
¨Whereˇs Portia? Is she with Peeta? He is all right; isnˇt he? I mean; heˇs alive?〃 I blurt out。
¨Heˇs fine。 Only they want to do your reunion live on air at the ceremony;〃 says Haymitch。
¨Oh。 Thatˇs all;〃 I say。 The awful moment of thinking Peetaˇs dead again passes。 ¨I guess Iˇd want to see that myself。〃
¨Go on with Cinna。 He has to get you ready;〃 says Haymitch。
Itˇs a relief to be alone with Cinna; to feel his protective arm around my shoulders as he guides me away from the cameras; down a few passages and to an elevator that leads to the lobby of the Training Center。 The hospital then is far underground; even beneath the gym where the tributes practiced tying knots and throwing spears。 The windows of the lobby are darkened; and a handful of guards stand on duty。 No one else is there to see us cross to the tribute elevator。 Our footsteps echo in the emptiness。 And when we ride up to the twelfth floor; the faces of all the tributes who will never return flash across my mind and thereˇs a heavy; tight place in my chest。
When the elevator doors open; Venia; Flavius; and Octavia engulf me; talking so quickly and ecstatically I canˇt make out their words。 The sentiment is clear though。 They are truly thrilled to see me and Iˇm happy to see them; too; although not like I was to see Cinna。 Itˇs more in the way one might be glad to see an affectionate trio of pets at the end of a particularly difficult day。
They sweep me into the dining room and I get a real meal  roast beef and peas and soft rolls  although my portions are still being strictly controlled。 Because when I ask for seconds; Iˇm refused。
¨No; no; no。 They donˇt want it all ing back up on the stage;〃 says Octavia; but she secretly slips me an extra roll under the table to let me know sheˇs on my side。
We go back to my room and Cinna disappears for a while as the prep team gets me ready。
¨Oh; they did a full body polish on you;〃 says Flavius enviously。 ¨Not a flaw left on your skin。〃
But when I look at my naked body in the mirror; all I can see is how skinny I am。 I mean; Iˇm sure I was worse when I came out of the arena; but I can easily count my ribs。
They take care of the shower settings for me; and they go to work on my hair; nails; and makeup when Iˇm done。 They chatter so continuously that I barely have to reply; which is good; since I donˇt feel very talkative。 Itˇs funny; because even though theyˇre rattling on about the Games; itˇs all about where they were or what they were doing or how they felt when a specific event occurred。 ¨I was still in bed!〃 ¨I had just had my eyebrows dyed!〃 ¨I swear I nearly fainted!〃 Everything is about them; not the dying boys and girls in the arena。
We donˇt wallow around in the Games this way in District 12。 We grit our teeth and watch because we must and try to get back to business as soon as possible when theyˇre over。 To keep from hating the prep team; I effectively tune out most of what theyˇ

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