*Thanks to those who read my previous chapter! I've finished the second, and hopefully it's better than the first, so...here it is!*

Chapter 2: One Way Journey

I've never been good with words. They jam themselves at the wrong moments, turning a comfortable conversation into an awkward one. The most serious conversations tend to drag this disadvantage out of me. But for their sake, I will try to make it sound as if I'm confident I will win the Hunger Games. Give them something to hold onto, for giving up has never been an option in my family. It's the best I can do. But the silent promise I made to Kenny White makes me feel like the biggest liar in all of Panem. There's only one way I can repay him in a situation as limited as this. My mind is made up.

I am seated in a room at the Justice Building, which looks as though it's had a rough past. Probably it was once a place of beauty, a place which would attract tourists, if they were allowed to enter it. But it's clear nobody has spruced it up, not for this occasion, and never the times before either. It portrays sadness for my district, for here I, like the other tributes before me, I will have to say my final goodbyes to those who come: my aunt, brother, sister and maybe friends as well, though I never made many. I'm glad the cameras are off, because the stony expression on my face is rapidly eroding, leaving sadness to fill the gaps. I sink my filthy nails into my hands until the door opens.

My little sister, beautiful and innocent charges into my arms, and I hug her so tightly it hurts, nowhere near as painful as the tears as they are forced to stay confined within me. It's difficult to even speak, which breaks my recent ultimatum so I'm forced to when my aunt wraps her thin arms around us all. "I love you. I love you so much. I...I..." My throat closes at the wrong moment, but my aunt expects this and puts her finger on my lips to quiet me, to tell me nothing needs to be said. At least this means I don't have to lie to them about winning the Games. Guy enters the room and gives me a hug, but his face still shows the shock of having a volunteer. We all sit in silence until a peacekeeper strides through the door, signalling our time has ended, and that I may-no- that I never will see my family again. As they make their way to the door, I whisper one last phrase "Take care of yourselves." meet my sister's eyes, my brother's and finally my aunts' shiny brown eyes. The door closes.

I only notice the rich fabric of the cushion when I wrap my bony arms around it, trembling and sick and barely able to hold my tears in. But then I remember my goal, dying wish even: to protect Kenny White, thus helping him win the Hunger Games. This helps to calm me, for he did save my brother, and by doing so, he is out of the Hunger Games for good. Maybe he'll find a girl, marry even. I'm unsure whether he'll risk having children, not in this situation. But certainly, if it wasn't for Kenny White, this boy I'm certain I've never seen before, I would have lost a brother, a stitch in my tightly woven fabric that is my family.

The slight creak of the door makes me jolt, returning me to my senses. I haven't the courage to look into my visitor's face, so I just focus on the cushion until an elegant hand slips into mine. And that's when I know I'll never be able to avoid this face for long, for this face has created a fabric of its own, a fabric I trust and love too much. "Maria." My mouth opens in shock. Just a week before the reaping, me and Maria had a heated argument, and refused to even look at each-other ever since. Part of me knows it was my fault, but I don't even remember what the argument was about because all I need to know about this woman is that she saved my life.

Her story comes rushing through my mind at once, but Maria knows me only too well. She plants a small kiss on my forehead and looks directly into my eyes, forcing me to focus on those attractive golden irises. She doesn't speak, but what she does do is take something off her silver necklace and attach it to my wooden one. I take a closer look at it. And my eyes widen in shock. It's an amber gem made from tree sap, no her amber gem made from tree sap. The one she was given by her husband, a victor, after he died from some incurable disease. I find myself transfixed by this sparkling beauty, but this only erodes my time with Maria. I look up, only to find she's nowhere in sight. This brings a small smile to my lips. "Disappear Maria!" the famous phrase used by all of district 7, turns out to be true.

No others come, which doesn't surprise me as my list of those I care for is pretty short. But now the time has come. Kenny White and I will be forced to travel by train to the Capitol, the place full of riches and people who constantly keep up with crazy fashion styles. They have little to worry about there, as far as I know, for the people there never have to worry about the possibility of watching their children die before them in the worst possible way. From there onwards, we will have interviews (where we're expected to keep from voicing rebellious thoughts) , training along with revealed training scores (If the Gamemakers ever pay attention in there) and chariot rides through the city (mostly wearing humiliating costumes- I saw district 12 tributes wear nothing but coal dust once).

Before I know it, I'm led into a train unlike any of the ones we use for transporting lumber back home. From what I've seen, these are ten times as fast, and being a Capitol train, must surely have some indescribable luxuries too. Kenny White and I take our seats, a little concerned about the fact our mentors still have not made an appearance. I can see it in Kenny's dark eyes, the brief puzzlement. I have to kick myself to look away from them, but thankfully he doesn't notice, for here they are, the male and female victors turned mentors of district eleven. Not much, by the looks of them, which drops the odds of Kenny receiving outside help drop to near zero. Mentors are all we'll have once we're in the arena. I hear Haymitch Abernathy, district 12's only mentor has his hands full keeping his tributes alive, and with good reason. I wonder what this pair will be like, though I have a bad feeling welling up inside just looking at them.

The man, Jonathon, looks completely wasted; you can see it in his hazel, bloodshot eyes, the translucent pale skin which suggests his primary stomach-filler is drink, and in the constant swinging in his arms which refuse to stop. Poor Kenny. It's a sure bet he won't be getting sponsors any time soon. The female mentor, Shelane, looks a little more promising. She looks strong enough, but I can't help but notice how little attention she's paying to us. It suggests she's too wrapped up in her own thoughts to consider helping us, even once we're in the arena. Those chocolate eyes fix on a spot in the distance, avoiding us. These two clearly lead messy lives. But they're all we'll have, our only source of survival from the real world, and we'll need all the help we can get. I remember my aunt's words "Strength in numbers can overcome even the biggest challenges, whatever life throws at us." And I realize, between the three of us, Kenny will live to see another day.

The train engine rumbles. I find myself peering out of the window, at my home, at the many trees surrounding my district but slowly reside myself to sit back in my seat. We are leaving our homes, our family's, everything we have ever known. Kenny will come back here, I know he will. But for me, this is a one-way journey; there is no going back.

*Again, I appreciate you reading this, and thanks for your continued support. I'll be working on the next chapter, so sorry if you think I take too long. Thanks again!*