Stepping forwards on jittery legs I make my way up to the platform where they are waiting for me. The shock has been too much, and I can no longer process what is happening properly. It is all a bit of a blur, the way the man formally shakes my hand, the way the other tribute does the same. The pitiful gaze of my mentor. There is a horrible buzz of foreboding in my stomach as he gently touches my back and leads me around to face the doors to the town hall. The staring eyes of the district seem to slice through me, as if they can see through my skull and into my mind, tipped to the edge of sanity by the sudden change in my situation. All of a sudden I collapse inwards with relief as the doors swing shut. I pull back my hunched shoulders and continue with uncertain breaths on the course they are leading us. The probing eyes are gone now, but yet I feel worse in their absence. I realise now that I have never known what it is to be truly alone until this moment. There have always been alike to myself wherever I've gone, but now I am with two enemies, a person who would have me dead and a man who wants me only to succeed for money.
It is not true that I am alone, however. Beetee is here. I have only spoken to him once or twice before, but the few meetings are some comfort. His eyes are kind, haunted but forever smiling. I find a new strength in this knowledge that I have him here, and it is peculiar to notice the way his hand still rests on my scapula, like he is protecting me. I know at once that he understands and that I can count on him. In a strange way, within these few seconds, without speech we have become friends. It is a mutual agreement that hangs in the air about us.
The man leads the boy tribute away and we are alone. Beetee walks me to a door and stops there, in some sudden decision that I'm not entirely comfortable when he hugs me lightly.
"Good luck," he says.
I still don't comprehend things enough to get out a /thanks/, but I hope that the small, nervous smile that I give him conveys my gratitude enough. He leaves and I turn to the door, getting ready to face what I know will come.
I enter and take one of the seats that wait inside, wondering if anybody will come to say goodbye.