As soon as the anthem ends, we are taken into custody. Escorted into the Justice Building, separated, and accompanied to a room, we are left alone to say our last goodbyes. I take a brief moment to admire the thick carpets and velvet furniture, but quickly reassemble myself. My family will be coming in soon, and I must not let them see anything less than utmost confidence.
When they come in, it is only my mother and sister. My father and brother are not with them. I feel a flash of pain, which my mother quickly reads.
"They're coming later. Joe wanted to talk to you alone, and so did your father." She says quietly. I feel a rush of relief but squash it, and open my arms instead. My little sister darts into them. Her dark brown hair swings in its twin braids. Her gray eyes peer up at me tearfully as I enclose her in my arms.
"Come home." She pleads.
"I'll try." I say, because it is all the I can promise. She bites her bottom lip and nods raggedly. My mother steps forward and embraces us both.
"Be careful." She whispers in my ear. I nod and pull away. They leave and Joe comes in.
He moves to hug me and we sit together quietly on the sofa, just holding each other. "I love you, Kittymess." He murmurs. He is the only one that can get away with calling me that. For a moment, I laugh, but I quickly choke it back.
"I love you too, Jojo." I say. He opens his mouth but has to swallow hard before he can speak.
"I love Rose." He says. I nod. "But, if you have to, I don't care if you have to kill Maysilee. As long as you come home. Even if Rose hates you and me both for it." I blink back tears that want to fall.
"It probably won't come to that." I tell him quietly, shoving the tears back. "There are 48 of us this year."
"But if it does." He insists. "Promise me that you won't hesitate because of me." I nod. "Promise." He orders.
"I promise." I say. He nods and we hold each other until the Peacekeepers come.
My father is next. He yanks me into his arms as soon as he's in the room. "Don't bother about the Cornucopia." He whispers intently. "No matter how strong you are, you're no match for the bloodbath that happens there. Try to sneak supplies while the Careers are hunting. If they have a guard, find a way to kill it without alerting the others. Find drinkable water, you'll die without it. If you can, get your hands on a bow as soon as possible. With a bow, the others will have no chance. Use the snares I've taught you to find food. Don't use your arrows unless you have to or you're sure that you'll get them back. Play to your strengths. You know how to survive in places others don't, use that. Even if the arena isn't like our woods, you can survive if you use the things I've taught you. Remember what you've learned."
"I will." I agree, feeling my confidence grow with every word. I can do this. I have the skills. I just have to hope that I can kill humans, who think and are armed, as well as I can kill animals.
"I'll see you in two weeks." He promises. We cling together for another long moment before he is escorted from the room.
To my surprise, it's Rose who comes in next. We stare at each other in silence for a moment before she dips her hand into her pocket and pulls out a small pin. I stare at it for a moment. Encircled with gold is a red rose. She extends it to me.
"I thought that you could wear this. In the arena. For your token." She explains, voice shaking. "It's not much, but..."
"Thank you." I tell her simply. I couldn't tell her that the pin would remind me of her, and that I'd have to kill her friend which would make me hesitate, as my brother had made me promise not to do. Still, I did need a token and the rose was pretty. She smiles hesitantly before turning and leaving. "Rose!" I call out. She pauses and turns. "Take care of him? If something happens to me." I request. She blinks back tears.
"I will." She agrees. I nod and she leaves.
It's a short ride from the Justice Building to the train station. I've never been in a car before, rarely even ridden in wagons. In the Seam, we travel on foot. The station is swarming with reporters, their insect-like cameras trained directly on our faces. They are airing our arrival live and I am glad to see that my face looks neutral, unemotional. Maysilee has tear tracks on her face and Nico is openly crying. Haymitch is, as usual, smirking arrogantly. We are forced to stand for a few minutes in the doorway of the train while the cameras gobble up our images, then we're allowed inside and the doors close behind us.
The train begins to move at once. The speed initially takes my breath away. Of course, I've never been on a train, because travel between the districts is forbidden except for officially sanctioned duties. For us, that's mainly transporting coal. But this is no ordinary coal train. It's one of the high-speed Capitol models that average 250 miles per hour. Our journey to the Capitol will take less than a day.
In school, they tell us the Capitol was built in a place once called the Rockies. District 12 was in a region known as Appalachia. Even hundreds of years ago, they mined coal here, which is why our miners have to dig so deep. It all comes back to coal at school. Besides basic reading and math, most of our instruction is coal-related. Well, except for the weekly lecture on the history of Panem. Mostly, that's a lot of gibberish about what we owe the Capitol. I know there must be more than they're telling us, an actual account of what happened during the rebellion maybe, but I don't spend much time thinking about it. Even that would count as a rebellion and my family means more to me than any information the Capitol is hiding.
The tribute train is fancier than even the room in the Justice Building. We are each given our own chambers that have a bedroom, a dressing area, and a private bathroom with hot and cold running water. We don't have hot water at home, unless we boil it. There are drawers filled with fine clothes, and Fifi tells me to do anything I want, wear anything I want, everything is at my disposal, but I'm not to mess them up with my grimy hands and I'm to be ready for supper in an hour. I stick my tongue out at her retreating form as she leaves.
I peel off my mother's blue dress and take a hot shower. I've never had a shower before. It's like being in a summer rain, only warmer. I revel in the warm water but step out after only a few moments. I've already had a bath today and I am not wasteful. I put on a pair of dark green pants and a shirt. They remind me of the woods at home and are a comfort. I only just remember to grab Rose's pin from the dress and pin it to my new shirt. I glance in the mirror and sigh. I don't look like much. I'm not as skinny as most of the Seam children from District 12 but I'm not bulky either. My arms are strong but any Career could overpower me easily. All in all, I'm not much. My only helpful feature is my survival skills. I am suddenly very glad that I, unlike my sister, take after my father and brother in hunting skills. My father even taught me to make good bows, though even he has to scrap them occasionally. My brother is excellent at this.
I step out of my compartment and walk down the hall warily, searching. A door at the end of the hall opens to reveal a dining compartment. The dishes on the table look highly breakable. Nico and Maysilee are already seated next to each other. Fifi is seated beside Maysilee and Rabat is seated beside Nico. With the choice of Rabat and Fifi, I choose Rabat and take the empty seat next to her. Haymitch enters not a moment later, grimacing slightly as he takes the seat between me and Fifi. The supper comes in courses. Fifi sneers at us as we eat hungrily. She reminds us coldly that we should save room because there is more to come but Rabat reminds her, almost inaudibly, that we need to put on weight for the arena. She sniffs but doesn't say anything else.
When the meal is over, I'm fighting to keep everything down. There was so much and it was all so good that I stuffed myself more than I should have. I am determined to keep the food down though, and I do. Nico is not so lucky.
We go to another compartment to watch the Reapings in the other Districts. One by one, names are called and children are sentenced to death. Only a few stand out to me. The large boy in 1 that jumps forward to volunteer, the blonde boy from 2 that towers over the other tributes, a short girl from 3 that looks too young for the Reaping but stands with the fourteen year old children, the girl from 4 whose brown hair flows like water, the boy from 10 who is bulky and looks fierce, a small dark-haired 12-year-old girl from 11, a boy from 11 who is laughing even as his name is called and whose face tells of a mischievous nature, the other boy from 11 who is just the opposite, strong and dangerous-looking, and then us.
"Well, I think that's enough for tonight." Rabat says. She rises and leaves the room. Uncertain, the rest of us glance among ourselves. Haymitch snorts lightly and rises, leaving. I hesitate but rise to leave as well. Maysilee follows me and Nico darts after us, eager not to be left behind. As we reach our rooms, placed down the hall from each other, the train is pausing to refuel. Maysilee and Haymitch ignore it, heading to their rooms. Nico hesitates but follows their lead. I pause, staring out at the night sky, until the train starts moving again. I head into my room and get into the bed without glancing around. I do not even take off my clothes. If I'm going to cry, now is the time to do it. By morning, I'll be able to wash the damage done by the tears from my face. But no tears come. I'm either too tired or too numb to cry. The only thing I feel is a desire to be somewhere else. I try to fall asleep but even this oblivion evades me. I toss and turn for over an hour before I give up.
Rising, I slip out of the room silently. Making my way back to the dining compartment, I slip inside. I pause in the doorway. Haymitch is there, staring out the window, but he doesn't notice me. I debate what to do for a moment before continuing forward.
"Can't sleep either?" I ask. I see him jump slightly and he turns, scowling at me. I see faint red marks around his eyes but pretend that I don't.
"No." He says flatly. I nod and sit down beside him, joining his gaze. The stars are bright and the moon is just waning, heading to the end of its cycle. I sigh quietly, watching it. This could be the last time I ever see a waning moon. Even if I survive a month in the arena, though I doubt the Gamemakers will allow the games to last that long, I will never be able to be sure that it is my moon and not a Gamemaker creation. "What are you doing here, Sweetheart?" He drawls. I bristle slightly at the term.
"Staring at the moon." I respond dryly. "What about you? Thinking about Meg?" His eyes flash and I feel a rush of satisfaction that I managed to rankle him.
"Mind your own business!" He snaps furiously.
"Fine. I won't bother making conversation in the future." I spin back around to stare at the moon again, but I don't really see it anymore. He huffs and throws himself into one of the chairs at the empty table. I continue to stand there but can't concentrate with the feel of his glower boring holes in my back. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of running me off, but I don't want to stay here either. I huff and spin, unable to bear being in the same room with him any longer. I stalk to the door and open it.
His voice stops me. "Sweet dreams, sweetheart." There's a mocking edge there that makes me feel the urge to strangle him with my bare hands, but I contain it. I will kill him in the arena if it's the last thing I do.
Gray light leaks through the windows as Fifi bangs on my door.
"Get up! Up!" She hollers, moving to bang on the others' doors. I glare at the closed door before rising. Glancing in the mirror, I smooth out my clothes and head out. The tight braid that my hair is in hasn't been too affected so I leave it alone. It doesn't matter. We can't be far from the Capitol now. And once we reach the city, my stylist will dictate my look for the opening ceremonies tonight anyway. I just hope I get one who doesn't think nudity is the last word in fashion. I shake the thought off and head to the dining room.
When I walk in, Fifi is scowling at Maysilee, who looks smug. I smirk slightly, wondering what she did to tick the woman off and how soon I could repeat it without them thinking that we were planning it.
"Well, good morning, sweetheart." Haymitch's voice drawls. I ignore him, gritting my teeth against my retort, and sit down as far from him as possible. Nico is not here yet. The moment I slide into my chair, I'm served an enormous platter of food. Eggs, ham, piles of fried potatoes. A tureen of fruit sits in ice to keep it chilled. The basket of rolls they set before me would keep my family going for a week. There's an elegant glass of orange juice. At least, I think it's orange juice. I've only ever tasted an orange once, at New Year's when my father bought one as a special treat. A cup of coffee. My father says he enjoys the taste, but it only tastes bitter and thin to me. A rich brown cup of something I've never seen.
"It's called it hot chocolate," Maysilee says when she sees my confusion. "I asked." I nod and take a sip. Immediately, my mouth is filled with a delicious, hot, creamy liquid that I practically inhale.
One good thing about being sent to my death: good food.
Even though the rest of the meal beckons, I ignore it until I've drained my cup. Then, I stuff down every mouthful I can hold, which is a substantial amount, being careful to not overdo it on the richest stuff.
When I can't eat any more, I sit back and take in my companions. Almost unconsciously, my eyes immediately dart to Haymitch. His plate is empty and he is just finishing his hot chocolate, downing the last dregs. I look away before he can spot me. Maysilee is poking at the leftovers on her plate, as though wanting to eat more but not daring to risk it. Nico has finally managed to make an appearance, still eating vigorously. His eyes are red and puffy, even more noticeably than Haymitch's were last night, and he is very pale. Fifi is eating silently, eyes examining all of us with disgust. I press my lips tightly together to avoid a confrontation and turn my eyes to Rabat. She stares down at her own plate, but she hasn't touched it. I frown slightly.
"You're supposed to give us advice." I prompt her. She glances up at me.
"Stay alive." She says flatly. I blink in surprise.
"That's it?" Maysilee demands scathingly. "That's all you have to say?"
"That's all there is to say. There is no fool-proof method that will keep you alive. Mostly, the only thing you can do is use your instincts and kill other tributes. There's not much that I can tell you that will be any good in the arena in regards to strategy. That depends on you. I can help you in regard to sponsors but that's about it." She says. I blink, tilting my head slightly. It made sense, in a very unhelpful way. We'd be in the arena alone, and sticking to one strategy without being able to adapt would get you killed. Still, my father's advice had been more helpful.
Suddenly, the car goes dark. There are still a few lights inside the train, but it's like night outside. I realize we must be in the tunnel that runs up into the Capitol. The mountains here form a natural barrier between the Capitol and the eastern districts. It's almost impossible to enter the Capitol from the east except through the tunnels. I wait as the tunnel goes on and on. When the train finally begins to slow, bright light floods the compartment. I run to the window, unable to help myself, Maysilee and Nico not far behind. We all want to see what we've only seen on television, the ruling city of Panem. The cameras haven't lied about its splendor. If anything, they were unable to capture the brilliance of the glistening buildings that line up in a rainbow of hues, the shiny cars that roll down the paved streets, the oddly dressed people with bizarre hair and painted faces who have never had to miss a meal. The colors seem artificial: the pinks too deep, the greens too bright, the yellows painful to the eyes. The people begin to point at us eagerly as they recognize a tribute train rolling into the city.
I step away from the window, sickened by their excitement. They can't wait to watch us die. They, who have so much, have no idea what it is like to be us. Nico flushes at the attention and turns away. Maysilee watches the window in silence for a moment before turning away as well.
"Oh." We turn our attention to Rabat. "One more piece of advice. Don't argue with the stylists. They can get nasty."
