Chapter 2

They didn't give me a chance to say goodbye. I asked. They said they were 'behind schedule.'

So, I was marched straight up to the station by two peace keepers, one on each side, with Thresh behind me and Fesh, our escort, in front, piping at us how we still have to pick up District 12 and if we carry on at this rate then there won't be any of district 12's contenders.

Good, I thought.

'What ever is Effie going to say when we turn up this late?' she cried, wringing her dyed-orange hands, 'They'll have finished their reaping long before we get there and it's at least an hour away and…'

So now I lay here, on my luxury bed in District 11's quarters, trying to work out what the last thing I said to my family was. What was the last thing my mother said to me? I roll over and allow my thoughts to wander back to when we last spoke. Yesterday, I suppose…

We had argued. It was our family's turn to dig, which always put's her in a bad mood. So the seven of us strode up and down the brown fields, stabbing the cracked ground with our wooden shovels in an attempt to make a reasonable-sized hole for the seeds to go in. W had to make four rows, which meant about 800 holes each.

We were trying to work at similar paces so we could stay together when a Peacekeeper gave her a sharp jab in the back and told her to 'get moving.' She told them we were holding her back. This made me so angry that I started shouting at her, right in front of the Peacekeepers. They dragged us out and gave us a good 'talking to' about creating 'Disturbances' and the importance of completing as much work as possible for the Capitol. And if either of us said a word, we received a blow or a shaking. And when they finally sent us back again; neither of us was very happy with the other.

'If you were picked for the reaping tomorrow,' she snapped at me, 'I would not have to tolerate half so much nonsense. I wish you would, you know that Rue, I do.' And we didn't speak for the rest of the day, or next morning for that matter. And I had completely forgotten about it all until now. I wonder if she remembered during the reaping. I wonder what she's thinking now.

By the time the train comes to a halt to pick up District 12's contenders, I am on the verge of going to sleep, and my pillow is soaked with tears. I try to think about positive things, but my brain fails to find anything from that category. So I lay, staring at the ceiling, willing my mind to clear of all thoughts. I close my eyes and for a moment I feel almost relaxed. I breath in slowly and then let it out, imagining that in that breath are the Hunger Games, and that they're gone and the train is taking me home. But I know perfectly well that that thought is about as convincing as Fesh's turquoise hair.

'Fesh and Thresh,' I murmur. They sound good together. I smile and laugh a little; why am I thinking about such things?

I wonder who our mentor is going to be? Do we get one each, or do we share? And we get prep teams too, everybody says. And stylists. I wonder what I'll be wearing for the opening parade. And we have to meet the interviewer, too, and all the Game designers.

I sigh; so many people help these games to happen. Some of them have nothing to do with the Games themselves, I know, but I still feel such loathing for every being that helps in anyway. It's their fault. They make it happen. Everything…but…not really…yet….

I can't even describe how I feel to myself. All I know is that I hate it. Everything. The games, the Capitol, District 11…everything.

Suddenly, I hear a knock. I sit up, rub my eyes and put on a fake smile. I don't need Fesh thinking I'm a weakling.

But it's not Fesh; it's Thresh.

'Hi,' he says, 'I thought I'd – can I…'

'Yeah,' I say. He walks carefully over to my bed and sits on the edge, silently. Neither of us says anything for some time, until the train starts moving again. 'Why did that take so long?' I ask.

'Delays,' he says quietly. 'Apparently, a twelve-year-old was picked and her sister volunteered. And then they took ages saying goodbye…I don't really know.'

But I'm not listening to the last bit; 'Apparently?' I frown, 'According to…?'

He goes a bit red as he answers: 'Reed. The mentor. Our mentor.' He says shortly.

It takes me a few moments to work out why he's embarrassed: 'Have you already spoken to him?' I ask, still unsure.

He nods, 'He came in.'

'What did he say?'

He's definitely embarrassed now. 'He said …he said he thinks I have a good chance.'

'Oh, really?' I say, 'Is – is he coming to see me?'

But Thresh just shrugs in answer. 'We'll be at the Capitol by tomorrow. In the meantime, our prep teams will…. meet us.' And he gets up and walks right out of the door, leaving me just as confused as before. Is he going to help me? Kill me? I know him a little; he lives quite close. I can't picture him teaming up with me. What if he goes with the careers? What if he kills me? What if…?

I shake myself: I have to stop worrying; there'll be plenty of time for that later. So I curl up under the silky covers and place my head on the plump pillow. I may as well enjoy these luxuries while I have them. I can hear two voices outside my door. The District 12 tributes. I listen:

'Katniss, you have a chance, you know that, don't you?'

'Get lost Peeta, I want to be on my own.'

'Fine. Anyway, I need to talk to Haymitch.'

'Why bother? You think he's going to be sober enough to hear a word you say?'

'More than you anyway.'

I hear them stamp past. I shrug. Maybe I can team up with them? I certainly won't survive on my own. I need allies. I shut my eyes in an attempt to block the whole world out. A few seconds later, unintentionally, I fall asleep.

'Over here,' Fesh whispers, 'quick…'

I'm hardly awake yet, but I stagger over as she pulls me. 'If you want me to stay as your ally, you have to do as I say. We're behind schedule, you know…'

I blink; Fesh is my ally? I look around the arena: is it the arena? I suppose it must be. I'm in a space. Just a big, blue space. We seem to be floating, but we walk as if on solid ground. We are surrounded by dark shapes that glide around I the blue air. And that's it. There's nothing else there but Fesh pulling me behind one of the dark shapes. 'Here he comes,' she whispers.

And suddenly, out of nowhere, Thresh appears, but his skin is bright red and he's grinning strangely. He stands next to us, silently, still grinning. He's holding a pickaxe. 'Looking Fresh,' he says.

'What?' I ask. And suddenly the scene dissolves. My mothers voice comes through:

''If you were picked for the reaping tomorrow, I would not have to tolerate half so much. I wish you were, you know that….

I land in a pile of hay. Suddenly, I'm in District 11, being chased by Thresh and Fesh and….my family? And the boy from District 12. I wonder how I know who he is; I never saw him exactly. I pick up speed, running at such a speed that the scene is blurry. I swing myself up a tree and climb high, fast, hand over hand. My family and Thresh are left at the bottom, trying in vain o climb up. I laugh triumphantly, but when I look up, Fesh is there, somehow, impossibly, on the branch above me. How?

'Too Fresh, Thresh,' he says, 'But it sounds good…' and he pushes me through the branches, I'm screaming and lashing out as District 11 turns into the Arena again. And I'm falling into it, Fesh's face still in mine as I race down….down…'

I sit up in the bed, gasping for breath. 'Wha- what?' I gasp.

'I just said "dinner"' comes Fesh's irritated voice from the doorway. I let out a tiny scream and back away. Fesh ignores me. 'Hurry up; we're waiting,' she says, and turns down the corridor.

It takes a few moments for the word "Dinner" to sink in, as I readjust myself to the real world again. Dinner…of course: eat. Fesh has called me to eat. I'm eating. Not being eaten…dinner. Time to get out of bed.