Chapter Three

We are moved inside the Justice building by Peacekeepers and as I hear the door close behind us it feels like such finality. It makes me jump inside my skin. I have never been inside the Justice Building, for there was never a reason for me to go inside. The inside of the Justice is cold and without color, the large marble columns white and reaches to the glass dome without interruption. They are rooms prepared for both of us.

This is the only mercy that the Capitol has ever shown the people who are selected for the Hunger Games. This is the time that our families have the ability to say goodbye. They are all ushered into a waiting room where they sign up, name, and relationship to person. They are given only three minutes to tell the person who is selected goodbye. How do you say goodbye to ones you love in just three minutes for everyone?

In the room, I walk towards the window and I look outside. All the people have begun to walk back towards their homes. Home. Just like that I know that I would never see my home again. The tears stream freely down my cheeks. I have held it together this long, and I just couldn't, not anymore. There are no cameras here in the room, so I know that it doesn't matter.

I hear the door open and there stands my father and my mother.

"Where are…" I ask before interrupted by my mother.

"They couldn't make it, it is hard for them, and you know your brothers." She explains. It is better that way I guess. It is hard enough to say goodbye to them. I guess they wanted to give our parents all three minutes to say goodbye.

We sit down on the couch and it is quiet for a couple of moments before my mother says.

"We'll probably this year we can finally have a victor." She says. I start to smile, thinking my mother thinks that I can win. That is until she says.

"You know that one she's a survivor."

There it is, I can always count on my mother to be the bearer of reality. Reality is that I could never have won, so even if she did say it, it would only be an empty gesture. Still, I would have loved to hear it. I make it a point in my mind to forgive her and remember the woman, the mother that I knew so very long ago. The pain though is enough to cause me to look away from her.

My father noticing my expression finally speaks up and tells "you know your son is right here and now and this is the last memory you want him to have of you?"

"He knows the difference between reality and dreams. He is not a baby that has to be filled with hopes of something that may not even happen." She says matter of fact.

"Why are you even here? Your son wants to say goodbye to you and now what good is it." He says to her.

She stands and begins to walk away to the door. She pauses, almost as if she is going to turn around to say something. I think inside my heart, please, just say that you love me. The moment has come and goes, and she continues to walk towards the door, opening and closing it behind her.

"You have to understand son, she is losing her youngest son," he tries to comfort me. "Some people do not know how to say goodbye. But I brought something for you, to remind you of home, and what you are fighting for."

There in his hands is a small little package. He hands it to me, and the warm feeling of the package sips through the paper. I open it to see, it is cookies, but not just any cookies. My father had seen me earlier in the day making these exact ones. He noticed that I had taken my time making sure that the design on the cookies was perfect. I don't know how he could have known that this is exactly what I needed.

The cookies were your regular shortbread type cookies. The thing is that I decided to frost a design of dandelions on them. I know my father couldn't have known the real reason behind this, but knew that if I had spent all that time on cookies that they meant something to me.

I look at him, raise my hand to my chest and he nods.

"Do me a favor?" I ask.

"Anything my son," He replies.

"Can you take these to her? I made them thinking that today was the day I would get to talk to her after the reaping." I explain. "Now it doesn't seem appropriate."

"Okay." He tells me.

And with that the door opens and the Peacekeepers tell us that it is time.

We both stand and there he hugs me. I can feel the trembling in his arms, and I know that he is suffering right now, just as I am. He pats me on the back, and then finally as we separate, he nods and walks out of the room. The Capitol has taken away the one thing that matters to me.

I look down to my hands and truly examine them for the first time. They are all worn and cut from the years of the fire of our ovens. My father has the same look to his hands, of course much more seeing how he has been doing this for a very long time. His words echo in my mind.

"We are the same, you and me." He once told me. "We have the same hands and the same heart."

I smile.

Just then, the door clicks and I find myself a little taken back on my next visitor. There in the doorway in a soft yellow dress stands Delly Cartwright.

Delly Cartwright is a good friend of mines from school. She is the friendliest person you could ever meet. Always smiling and this time are no different.

"Hey Peeta," she says.

"Hey Delly, it is nice to see you." I tell her.

"Wanted to stop by and say goodbye, is it alright that I come in?" She asks.

I don't have to say anything, my expression of longing for a friend is self-evident and she just walks in.

"Peeta, I don't know if you know this, but sometimes I believe things happen for a reason." She tells me.

Sweet Delly, always trying to find the rainbow in the storm. I tell you, she could find the positive in anything, even today.

"Thank you, Delly." I tell her. "It is nice to always see the positive in things."

"It is probably the sort of push you need to finally tell her how you feel." She tells me.

The statement is as genuine as ever. She is the only one that knows. She is the only one that I had confided in.

There was once a day that I was at school in class. It must have been late in the day because the sun was starting to hide behind the trees. I of course was always looking outside the window trying to find some sort of escape.

In an instant I see her from across the playground. At the edge of the playground, we have this very large tree. Each year students would put wind chimes on its limbs. It is always nice to hear the wind chimes in the afternoon day. There she was sitting on the tree just looking at everyone else play, the braid down her back, her soft olive skin. I must let out a sigh loud enough to hear, because all of a sudden Delly Cartwright tells me. "Yup, that is love. Right there." Snapped back into reality I try to recover. "Love? Yes, I would love to be outside playing and not in class hearing about how great coal mining is." I respond to her.

"Yes that is exactly what that was, your love for the outside. And it is definitely not the girl at the very end of the playground, by the wind chimes." She tells me with a definite sound of doubt in her voice.

The wind chimes that day never sounded so peaceful. I don't know if it was the sound or the fact that I could just see her there without being caught.

"What do you have to lose Peeta?" Her voice brings me back into the room. "You always did love the outside." She smiles.

"Yes, I always did love the outside." I tell her with a smile.

Just like that Delly has taken a very hard situation and turned it into a sweet memory. She reminded me of something I had forgotten. Although I have been crying and the emotions have been too much to bear, I know that Delly through her little trip down memory lane has tried to cheer me up.

The door opens and just like that, I am alone again. It is only a short moment before the Peacekeepers come back into the room and finally take me out of the room.

We are taken downstairs to a waiting car at the rear of the Justice Building. I have never ridden in a car; it is a luxury that most of us here in District 12, do not have. We typically get around on foot. If you can get to it by foot then it was a short enough distance, if you needed a horse or car, then it was too far away. My father would always say.

We come to the train station and our car is swarmed by reporters with cameras trying to get a picture of us, trying to get a comment from us. We stand by the doorway of the train, letting our pictures be taken by the swarm of cameras. They look like insects and even more they move like them too.

After a few minutes we are ushered into the train, the train door closes without a sound and the train begins to move. I walk over to the window and see our home disappear in the distance. The speed of the train is incredible, I can hardly feel a thing, but can see the trees just whizzing by. I don't know how fast we are going, but I know that if we go at this pace, we would be in the Capitol in no time at all.

From our geography class I can still remember that the Capitol is located in an area once called the Rockies. Effie Trinket takes both of us by the hand and leads us to our rooms. I quickly glance at Katniss before I walk into my room.

Right before the door closes, Effie Trinket tells us both "make sure to be ready in one hour."

I lie down in my bed; slowly remove my shoes with my feet. I hear them clomp on the floor and typically if I was at home, I would have to get up and place them in the closet.

"Everything has a place and everything in its place." My mother would always tell me before hitting me with it.

This time around, I think I will just leave them their right on the floor. Although I do have to quickly look around and make sure that no one is there.

I stare at the ceiling of the train, smooth metal finish, with a light glow where the lights come out. What I wouldn't get to see those wooden boards once again, feel the rough sheets on my skin and not this silky material that covers me now. I close my eyes thinking that if I can just imagine it, probably when I open my eyes the nightmare would be over and that I would be back in my bed once again. No luck, the same metal finish stares at me. I turn to one side and see the closet with its doors open.

I get up and walk towards the closet and can see the many different colors of shirts and pants just hanging there for me. A row of different type of shoes found at my disposal.

I slip out of my clothes, fold them nicely and place them on my bed. I take a shower and find it refreshing because of the hot water. We don't have hot water back home; well only if we heated up a pot full.

I chose the light blue shirt with a pair of slacks and make my way to what I think is the dining car. A couple of attendants help me find the correct place. On my way to down the narrow corridor, I see Haymitch walking towards me, mumbling something about laying down for a nap. I make it a point to tell him that dinner is in a hour, which he only just brushes me off as he stumble past us.

I think how he can help us, if he can't even walk straight. How did he win the Hunger Games I wonder, was it a drinking contest back then?

We make it to the dining car, and find that I am the first one. I sit down and see the panels, amazing, how they are of a polished material that I have never seen.

I hear the door open and see that it is Effie Trinket along with Katniss.

"Where's Haymitch?" Effie asks me.

"Last time I saw him, he said he was going to take a nap," I tell her.

"Well, it's been an exhausting day," Effie Trinket says to us.

They sit down and the attendants begin to bring out the food. The smell is almost intoxicating. They place before carrot soup, not the water down version but the rich bright red carrot soup. A green salad, with lamb chops and mashed potatoes. Cheese and fruits, and in the center they place a nice chocolate cake. I think I can eat it all in a couple of seconds, and I think I actually try to do so. Effie Trinket has to remind us to save room because there is more to come.

"At least you two have decent manners," says Effie, "The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion."

Well one can only imagine seeing how we hardly have anything to eat back in District 12. Sure my family has bread, and yes we are not in the Seam but in the merchant part of the District, but people forget that most of the bread is to sell not to eat. We sometimes have to eat days old bread. Trade the good bread for some meat that the hunters would go out and get. That was our meal, but we didn't complain and we never looked down on anyone who didn't have. I hear the clink of the silverware on the table and see that Katniss is finishing her meal with her hands and then wipes her hand with her the tablecloth. This makes Effie look at Katniss with a face of disapproval.

Just then I feel the rich food that I have just ate wishing to make a repeat appearance and have to force myself to keep it inside my stomach. Mental note, slowly eat the rich food, as it seems that my stomach is only accustomed to day old burned bread and road kill.

"Now, let's us go watch a bit of the recaps, shall we? We want to know who we are up against no?" Effie Trinket says.

We sit down in a compartment that has comfortable couches of a material I have never seen. Effie says it is leather from a cow, which is amazing. It never ceases to amazes me what the people from the Capitol can think of. The television slides from behind a wall at a push of a button. And there the recaps begin. All twelve districts staggered one after the other.

We see the volunteers and the chosen in District 1 and 2. How they run to the front to volunteer and the whole process of selecting the tribute. The faces are all a blur, some are built like an ox and others are even crippled. There is even a little twelve-year old girl from District 11.

Our District recap comes on, and I can see the whole thing all over again, although I don't want to. There is Katniss volunteering, and the commentator making a reference that there hasn't been a volunteer in an outlining District in years. They ask the question on why no one applauded and even our salute they didn't understand. They wouldn't understand it, it is a something only a person who has lived in the Districts would understand. Haymitch falls off the stage and of course Effie Trinket has a comment about it.

"Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behavior."

I find that funny, and start to laugh at the absurdity of her comment. "He was drunk, he's drunk every year." I tell her.

"Every day," Katniss adds. I look to her and smile.

"Yes, how odd you two find it amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in these Games. The one who advises you, lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can well be the difference between life and your death!" She preaches to us.

Like on cue, Haymitch stumbles in, "I miss supper?" Then vomits all over the carpet slips and falls onto of it.

"So laugh away!" Effie Trinket says, as she walks away from the room.