They drag me into a train station and push me on. Kili escorts me to a small room with buttercup yellow sheets and glass stained walls with paintings of the Capitol hung all over the room. There is a small tray of food in the centre of the room with a packet of strawberries, and some plain biscuits, which look like they might have sugar in them, which would be amazing. I've only ever had sugar once, and that was when Wiress, a former tribute and victor, won the games when I was three. The Capitol had flown one of their hovercrafts over the main square and through down delicacies such as sugar and salt in sacks so that they landed perfectly in the square.
I'd rushed straight for the sugar sack, my father chasing after me, scared he might lose me in the overwhelming crowd of people rushing everywhere. I had sat on the sack and waited for him to catch up.
"Food for me and daddy and mummy!" I'd clapped when my father had rushed over. He checked me for bruises or cuts and when he was sure I wasn't hurt and was okay he picked me up in one arm and the small sack in the other. He'd carried both me and the sack over to my mother in ease, which I suppose came from working with machinery for so long and for most of the time, then we ate it in every meal we had. I think even the Capitol would be shocked at how much we ate sugar with. It was the best few weeks of my life.
"Wow," Is all I seem to be able to mumble out. The room is truly amazing and is the most wonderful and delicate room I've ever been in, although I bet it is poor to those of Capitol residence, as it is quite small. But I like it. It gives me a sense of comfort and happiness, although that doesn't seem to stop me from being frightened about the fate of my unstable life.
"It is quite grand, I would imagine, to those disgusting excuses you tributes would normally call 'homes,'" She sniffs disapprovingly.
How dare she?! My house is not a disgusting excuse! My heart beats heavily against my chest, threatening to come out and I take in a deep breath.
"Well, I'm just going to eat, so if you could get out, I would really appreciate it!" I snap, although it is a lot kinder then what I was going to say. She looks at me, tremendously offended and, I bet, in shock that I spoke to her like that.
"I – Yes, fine!" She tries to compose herself as she stomps out of the small room. I slam the door shut and fall in an extremely unladylike manner onto the bed.
The bed takes my weight and doesn't creak, and I can't hear the springs rusting away like I can in my own bed. It is comfortable and not lumpy at all and it fits my shape, adjusting so it supports me perfectly. It's like I always imagined floating on a cloud would feel like when I was younger. It feels like you're weightless, without a care in the world…
…But that's the problem. My life is at stake here. And no one even cared enough to volunteer for me. Not one person.
But Jeremy would have. I know. I could see it in the look in his eyes when we said goodbye for what might be the last time. I could see he didn't think it was fair. I could tell he'd do anything to make sure that it was him up there and not me.
But there wasn't anything he could do. Nothing at all. He could only watch me starve on TV, killed in the first days, maybe even minutes.
That's how I'll die. That's how they always die. The twelve year olds. Killed by Careers at the Cornucopia the moment the dong sounds. Always. And nothing I can do will change that. Ever.
But maybe I should try and win. It would be good, to win. To not die. But winning almost certainly means killing someone else. And I cannot at all, ever bring myself to kill somebody. Even if they deserve it.
It's simply despicable. I don't want to take someone's life and cause their families to grieve, their families' hearts to be ripped out. I just can't do that. Killing… It's not right. Not natural.
I turn over again and scream into my pillow. What have I ever, ever at all done to deserve this? Nothing. Nothing at all. I've never stolen or killed. Not even killed an animal, unless you count when you step on an ant as killing. Which I don't.
Maybe I could just hide until it's all over. I wouldn't get any sponsors, that's for sure, but whilst everybody else is killing each other I hide. Then they all die and I win.
But I need sponsors. And to get gifts you have to do interesting things. But I'm not interesting at all! What would they want with a stupid little twelve year old?
"Excuse me?" Mariea's voice asks, nicely complementing a quiet but yet still noticeable knock at the door.
"Yeah?" I ask, "Come on in,"
He sits on my bed and stares into my eyes, creeping me out, although I can tell that he's just as scared as I am about my fate.
"I've decided we have to stick together," He says, a blush creeping over his delicate face just from saying a few words, "To win together,"
"That's outrageous," I comment at his last remark, "There can only be one winner,"
"Maybe we can change that," Mariea presses, "Defy them,"
"What?" I demand, defending myself, "No. We can't do that! They'd crush us like bugs in an instant!"
"What? Do you want us to be killed?" He asks, and I instantly know I've offended him. But how could he take it that way? I don't want anybody to be killed any more than he does!
"No," I pause, "But… That'd be defying the Capitol, you know!"
"So?" He asks, a hint of sarcasm and casualty riddled inside his voice, "Maybe that's what we need?"
"Mariea! They could be watching us right now!" I scowl, the idea flooding into my head. I instantly know they are and my stomach begins to flip in circles, bouncing along to the rhythm of the train as it scatters pebbles and rocks around.
"I suppose," He sighs and stomps out of the room. My head is spinning so I pop a biscuit into my mouth and feel the sugar explode into sweetness on the tip of my tongue.
But the idea still rings in my mind, "So? Maybe that's what we need…" Is it? He could be right. No more games… But who would be that bold, that brave to do that? No one I know. Jeremy?
Maybe. Just maybe. Jeremy, I know, is sick of the games. But if he would dare defy them… Would he? It's possible. But the consequences, the repercussions…
The only thing holding him back would be his family. I can tell. The consequences for them would be unimaginable, and Jeremy is too nice, too thoughtful to let his family suffer like that. It'd hurt himself too much. He would never put his family in that much danger. Ever.
Would I? Every second the idea of a rebellion seems more likely and like a better idea. But no, I couldn't do it.
Suddenly, we start rumbling into a station. I read the sign hanging out my window and I realise we're in a different district. District 5.
We could be nearly at the Capitol by now, but, according to my geography teacher when we are selected as tributes we go to our border and follow the border around five, then we run along the border of eight, then eleven, then nine and ten. Then we ride along the border of one and two before we can get to the Capitol. It's because they want to show us as many of the other tributes' homes as possible because they want to punish us more, for we were one of the major districts involved in last time's rebellion, which is unspeakable in District 3, in case we start another, which is the Capitol's worst fears.
The only Districts we don't see are seven, six, four and twelve. That's because District 8 and 11 separate them away from us.
District 5 seems to go on forever with the factories strongly replicating those of District 3. The people are nowhere to be seen, probably all making power in those factories. I shudder. I've heard that children as young as eight can go to work in District 5, and you can drop out when you're ten. I bite my lip and quickly dip a strawberry in chocolate and throw it into my mouth to sooth me.
I dig my fingernails into my palms, causing me pain I know I have to ignore. It'll be worse in the games, having injuries from the wild and even the other tributes themselves. Maybe even Mariea will try to kill me because I don't want to defy the Capitol. It is possible.
"May I come in?" Kili asks. Without waiting for an answer, she pushes the door open, lays down some bread next to the strawberries and walks away. I lean over the bread to examine it, but I'm not impressed. It's just stupid old District 3 bread. Normal.
I take a bite into the bread but it's already whole in my mouth. The District 3 bread is small and bite sized, but it makes it easier to eat while you're working in the factories, I suppose. Either that or our bread makers are really stupid.
In just a few minutes I've gulped down all of the bread and my hunger is almost satisfied. I dip one last strawberry in chocolate and eat one more sugar cookie, as I have named them, and then my stomach is no longer grumbling. It is a strange satisfaction, not being starving.
Soon we leave District 5 platform and are on the road again. I'm desperately lonely.