Okay! Here is Chapter 3, hope you enjoy.
Chapter 3
The peacekeepers escort us to an all black car that is going to take us to our train to the capital. At Least we'll ride to our death in style.
In the car you can tell Evan has been crying by his puffy eyes. Not that I look any better. He is as emotionless as me the whole ride, and for once the silence irritates me. Like I'm just itching for somebody to say something. I realize I'm longing for specifically Clara or Lilian to say something. But I might not hear any of their voices again. This realization brings tears to my eyes, but I don't let them fall down my cheeks. Instead my eyes are just glassy and my expression solemn.
In attempt to entertain myself I study Evan. Have I seen him at school? I wonder. But there are a couple of schools in District five because we have decent amount of people.
I must be staring at him for at least five minutes, because soon the car comes to a halt. I gasp from the shock. The realization that the train we're about to get on is going to take me to the capital gives me a shot of panic. This is really happening. I think, my breath now coming out in choppy waves. I'm going to the capital. My hands shake furiously. I'm leaving District 5.
When I look back at Evan I can see his eyes are fixed on me. For a moment our gazes meet. He looks at me puzzled. Great, my district partner now probably thinks I have fear of trains. I think with a scowl on my face. I need to start appearing more tough and mature. Or do I? To be honest I haven't really given much thought to how I want to come across. After all plenty of girls play up the "I'm weak" strategy and then show off their master skills when it comes down to the last few people in the games.
But that plan just doesn't seem right for me. Usually it would work for girls from District 4, 7, or 11 because they might actually have some prior training with a weapon. This way they can fake their skills during training and because they don't need to train. It would probably be a good idea for me to train. I'm not exactly handy with any sort of weapon yet.
I guess I'll just try to blend in. Not very hard for a District 5 girl. After all, all eyes will be on Districts 1, 2, and 4. I wonder how ruthless the careers are going to be this year. Suddenly I'm itching to see who my opponents are. If I'm going to win this I'll need to pay attention to everything they do. Only when you know your opponents weaknesses can you truly defeat them. My mother used to tell me this every time we'd play the dusty old board games that generations of our family had owned.
My mother was good at the games. She wasn't as much of a natural as I was, but she still had a few tricks up her sleeve. When I was younger I'd get frustrated when she'd win, but then she would only smile and say in time I'd be too clever for her. It's true. By the time I was twelve there wasn't a game that I hadn't analyzed and mastered.
At the thought of board games, I think of the older memories woven in. Memories from more than ten years ago. Memories with Eve in them. I remember excitedly watching her play my mother. Eve was only around how old I am now but she had always been better than my mother. I can still picture them sitting on the living room floor. Eve's hair brushed back into a perfect ponytail, with a quiver of a smile on her lips as she swiftly won each game.
I wonder what strategy Eve used when she was in her Hunger Games. I began to wonder. After all it must've some what worked, considering the fact she'd made it so far. What could've been flawed in her plan?
When Evan and I step onto the train I feel overwhelmed by how elaborate it is. Natasha looks at us eagerly as if expecting us to jump and down with joy that the train we're being sent to our death in is at least stylishly decorated. Instead I just scan the train squinting my eyes, and then stare at her with complete concentration. Just to make her feel uncomfortable. When she turns her head away looking a little distraught and confused, I smile. I like to win.
"Well, than." Her voice is so high it make me flinch. "What is wrong with you district kids? Don't you appreciate how beautiful this is? You should. This all for you." She smiles and looks proud of herself as she nods over the room, approvingly.
At that moment I want to leap at her throat. Make her feel every ounce of pain or fear that kids in all districts feel. Even the richest family from District 1 has nothing compared to what is considered normal in the capital. Plus if this is the kind of people the capital produce, they don't deserve any of the glory.
At that moment, I feel what have I got to lose? Nothing. Why should I have to impress this lady. She's nothing more than a brainwashed slave taking part in an annual act of sadism. Once more I stare at her to make her feel small.
What happens next I don't anticipate. It's as if all I can think about is a way to make her feel sorry. Maybe that isn't even the best thing to do during this situation, but I'm overcome with my mischievous side. I leap up into her face and hiss.
The mortified look on her face makes me regret none of it. In fact I feel the satisfaction run through my veins. We all stand there in silence for a moment. I realize how strange what I just did was and stand there thinking about what comes next. Natasha is taken aback in disgust. And when I look over at Evan I see something I didn't think was possible. He's laughing. His laugh is light, and fun. Even though I don't even know him, when I hear that kind of laugh it can't help but make the situation more care free and tolerable. I can't remember the last time I heard someone laugh. I can't remember the last time I laughed.
I'm going into the Hunger Games, I could use some laughter. Something warm and fun. Something that momentarily makes you forget. And in truth the whole situation is hysterical. I deserve to be hysterical.
So I laugh with him. We laugh about it all. Tears brew in my eyes and I struggle to catch my breath because the laughter comes so steadily. God knows where Natasha went. Or what will happen next. But it's okay. Laughing makes me feel as if I'm doing something right. Laughing with somebody I don't know. Somebody I probably will never know. Somebody who I might even have to kill within a week.
After a while regular thoughts start to pour into my head again. Abruptly I stop laughing and realize how foolish I must look. Evan realizes I stopped and looks at me, his eyes now the same stony ones I saw in the reapings. His face back to it's withered and tired looking features.
The fun has ended and I have to leave. I don't know what to do but run. So I run. I run past car after car on the never ending train to the capital. Each car has it's own stylish theme. In District 5 there was no such thing as a theme or design for a room. A room was a room. It was for shelter and practicality. Themes are not practical.
I kept running until I was at the car that must be my room. It looked like it was made to be charming. Everything was District 5 themed. The walls had pictures of Dams, and the abundant amount of pillows that were displayed on my bed had the number five all over them. It all stunned me. It was like the capital was smothering me with the fact I would probably never go home again. I fell to the sickly lush carpet below me. When I tapped my feet against it all I heard was dull thuds. I hate carpet.
I hate this train. If they wanted to make me feel at home the bed wouldn't have ten pillows on it. There wouldn't be paintings on the walls. The dresser shouldn't be made of some expensive stone. And no carpet. I think most people of District 5 would laugh at the silly thought of carpet. More to clean.
I sit on the floor, eyeing the carpet in disgust. I still don't feel like facing Natasha, or even Evan. I guess I'm just illogically stubborn. Sure I'm hungry, but it's not like I've never had a decent meal. I know for some kids from the lower districts, the food is probably all they think about once there in capital custody. But my family does pretty well, and it's a rare occasion when I miss a meal.
I figure somebody is bound to knock on my door at some point. So I just wait for them. Enjoying my time by myself. It feels like a relief. I wish there was books in my room. That sounds pretentious, but I really just like reading. It's a distraction. Everybody likes to be distracted some time.
When I hear a knock on the door I expect it to be Natasha, and prepare myself for her. The door opens and a tiny woman with a short brown bob, dressed in all black comes through the door. When I see her face I immediately recognize her as Kristen, victor of the 72nd Hunger Games from District 5. "Hello." Her voice is calm.
"Um, hi." I utter. My voice sounds quiet and weak compared to her's.
"We'd appreciate it, if you join us for dinner." She stares at me with patience.
"We?" I groan. I don't feel like discussing my interview angle with ten other capital fans at dinner.
"Yes. Evan, Natasha, Richard, and I." Richard must be Evan's mentor. He's the victor of the 61st Hunger Games.
It couldn't hurt to eat. And there's something about Kristen. She feels like the only person besides Evan that isn't going to congratulate me for being picked.
"Okay." I say, almost as quiet as a whisper. She smiles softly. I stand up and begin to follow her.
We walk in silence until we reach the dinner car. After just the sound of us walking, Kristen's voice shocks me. "You best apologize to Natasha." She whispers with a slight wink.
I feel the color rise in my cheeks. Already my mentor thinks I'm some immature, child. I think. How could I've done that earlier. If for even one moment in the games I lose my patience and do something stupid like that, it could cost me my life.
As if reading my mind, Kristan smiles. "It's okay. Trust me I've wanted to do a lot worse to her." She says with a devious look in her eyes.
When we reach the dining car I see everybody else is already there. This makes me feel embarrassed because back in District 5 it's not considered polite to keep people waiting. But who knows how things are done in the capital. Maybe it's not cool to be on time.
"Nice of you to join us." Natasha's voice rings. It's funny how Natasha thinks she's so much grander and important than me, when really she's probably only ten years older than me.
My eyes narrow at her, and I resist the urge to strangle her long giraffe like neck. "Yes. And I am dearly sorry about earlier." I spit out.
"I know it might've appeared rude to you." I continue. "But actually in District 5 hissing in the face of somebody new is a way of welcoming them." Laughter rises in the back of my throat.
Natasha scrunches her face in confusion. Then she seems to comprehend what I just said and nods. "Okay, you're forgiven. I didn't know that was custom of District 5." She says now smiling at me, like we're best friends.
I look around the table and notice the others all nodding at each other, holding back the contagious air of laughter that's spreading around, like the butter on our bread.
I have to admit the meal is absolutely delicious. Sure I'm a well fed kid, but nobody in my family can cook like this. There's two beautifully roasted chickens with a thick gravy sauce. A dish with potatoes that are mashed to look like puffs of white glazed in butter and salt. Cooked carrots and beans are assorted on steaming plates. To drink, sugary drinks that fizz up with different kinds of syrup are offered as well.
I eat rather slowly, carefully tasting teaching bite. But when I glance at Evan across the table I see him shoveling down his meal, like at any moment the food will disappear. God knows when he's last eaten a full meal.
The silence of our meal is comforting. After all it seems as if the hush of silence has always been my best friend. That's why I'm momentarily startled when I hear Kristen's voice.
"We should watch the reapings after dinner." She says, her gaze now serious and fixed on me. "Okay," I automatically reply. I don't think I could even think about arguing with somebody like Kristen. After all she is going to be my ticket to survival in a about a week.
"That sounds absolutely wonderful." Natasha adds. She looks around the table eagerly, and claps her hands together. I resist the urge to roll my eyes by biting into a piece of chicken. "One of my personal favorite parts of the games is getting to see all the tributes for the first time." At this point it's all too nauseating, and I can't resist my urge any more.
"If you love meeting tributes so much, maybe you can fight against them for your life instead of me." I fire at her. Her face instantly saddens like a wounded puppy. "Why can't you two, ever allow me to have a little fun." She whines like a toddler.
That's when I hear Evan get up from the table. Everybody's eyes are instantly drawn towards him, but before a word is spoken he's already run off. And with that, the rest of dinner is stung with silence.
Hope you enjoyed Chapter 3! I'm already starting Chapter 4, and am excited to introduce the other tributes. Make sure to tell me what you think so far in the reviews. I greatly appreciate the reviews I've gotten so far.