Disclaimer: Some similarities from 'Hunger Games' are included in this chapter. I OWN NOTHING!

Chapter 3: A Train Ride to Purgatory.

The ride to the train station is short, but it gives me time to look over my opposition. Edward is a year older than me and we rarely crossed paths before now. I take a good look at him he is tall, lean, and gangly. He has a head full of bronze unruly hair, brilliant green eyes, high cheekbones, strong jaw line, straight nose, and full lips. He is the most attractive man I have ever seen.

I have never really paid much mind to boys, why get involved with someone, when you have no intention of getting married or having children. I wouldn't condemn a child to this life, nor would I risk suffering the loss of a husband, like my mother did. So, this feeling is completely new to me.

I knew I needed to disassociate myself from the other tribute, I couldn't risk getting emotionally attached. That would only lead me to trouble.

We arrive at the train station and as expected the platform was swarming with camera crews. I try to center myself, not wanting my anxiety shown to the public. I look over at Edward, and he looks almost bored. How I wish I could accomplish such a feat. The cameras are all focused on us, as we exit the car and approach the train. We had to pose for a few pictures before being allowed to board the train.

I'm relieved that's over once the doors close. The train begins to move almost immediately, traveling at a phenomenal speed. Not used to traveling, the movement makes me dizzy and nauseous. I close my eyes take a deep break and try to settle my stomach.

"Oh dear, you look a little green around the gills. Are you alright sweetheart?" Mrs. Cope asks in her sappy voice.

"I've never traveled by train before. I'm sure I'll adjust to it soon." I say.

You'd think she would know this, travel between districts and the Capitol is strictly forbidden unless you're on official Capitol business.

"Of course darling, let's get you to you compartment so you can lay down for a bit before dinner" she says.

Then she turns to Edward,

"Is that alright with you dearest?"

He simply nods his head and, off we went.

The compartment I'm in is even fancier than the Justice Building's room. There is a embroidered bedspread atop the bed, in the bedroom. A dressing area, complete with dresser full of fine clothes in many sizes. A private bathroom, that has running hot and cold water. Mrs. Cope told us everything in our compartments is at our disposal to do with as we see fit.

"You must be ready for dinner in one hour." she said and then left us to explore our compartments.

I took a long hot shower. A luxury we did not have at home. If you wanted hot water, you boiled it and added it to the tub. I found a pair of grey pants and blue blouse to wear. Remembering the pin and dress, I remove the pin and pin it to the blouse. I fold the dress and place it at the foot of the bed. Then I lay down next to it on top of the comforter. Running my fingers over the pin, my mind started to wander.

The mockingjay is a remarkable bird, and a bit of rebel in it's own right. The Capitol bred a series of genetically altered animals to be used as weapons during the rebellion. These animals are called mutations or mutts for short.

One such mutt is the jabberjay. These homing birds could memorize conversations and repeat them back. The Capitol would send them into enemy camps and the birds would fly back to the Capitol with the newly obtained data. Very useful, that is until the rebels figured out how the Capitol was getting there information. They started feeding the birds false leads. Eventually, the Capitol realized the rebels were onto them and they abandoned the bird, assuming they would die off. Only the jabberjay didn't die. They began mating with mockingbirds. Creating a new species, the mockingjay.

This new breed of bird could not talk, but they could mimic melodies. If they liked a song or your voice, they will repeat the song back. Memories of my father begin to fill my mind. He was fond of the mockingjay. When we were out hunting, he liked to sing. The birds in the area would fall silent and listen. His voice was beautiful and mockingjays would always sing back every time.

The pin brought me comfort for this reason. Maybe it truly will be my lucky charm for the games. I would make sure I wore it wherever I went.

Mrs. Cope came to collect Edward and I for supper. She led us to the dinning car; where elegant tables sat, set with fine china, silver flatware, and crystal glasses. Edward pulled a chair out for me then Mrs. Cope, who fusses,

"Oh, quite the gentleman you are." she says in what almost seemed to be a flirty manner. Ew, Gross!

I decide to change the subject before I lose my apatite,

"Where's Rosalie?"

"She is napping in her chamber. It was an exciting morning, and she needs her rest." Mrs. Cope answers diplomatically. I snort at her choice of words.

"More like, she's sleeping off her buzz." I retort.

"Even more likely, she is passed out drunk somewhere." Edward counters.

We both start snickering.

Mrs. Cope wasn't amused by our antics,

"I'm not sure what you find so entertaining. Miss. Hale is your mentor, she is suppose to advise you, line up sponsors, and distribute the gifts during the games, she can be the difference between life and death for you in the arena! You will be the ones suffering when she can't perform her duties!" Mrs. Cope reprimands.

Dinner is served before she can add anything else. I might have lost my appetite from the new information we just received but, my hunger won out as the aroma of the soup hit my nostrils.

Rosalie stumbles into the dinning car after the last course was served.

"Damn, I missed dinner!" she slurs.

Then she proceeds trip and knock over our table. She lays on the floor covered by the remnants of our dinner. With a disgusted look on her face, Mrs. Cope leaves. Edward and I look at each other and make a wordless pact. Rosalie might not be much but, she's all we've got. We each grabbed an arm and dragged her to her room. Once we get her into the room we dumped her in the bathtub, and turned on the shower. She started swearing. What a shock right? Note sarcasm.

"I'll take care of her." I say.

He hesitates before asks, "Are you certain?"

"Sure, sure." I waved him off, "I got this"

He looks relieved, "All right then. If you need any help getting her up I'll be in my room."

He looked like he wanted to run from the room, but restrained himself. I couldn't much blame him. I finish cleaning up Rosalie and just settled her into bed when she finally spoke,

"Why are you being nice to me? What's in it for you? What do you want in return?"

"I'm just trying to help. I don't want anything in return." I say.

She scoffs, "Being nice will only get you killed."

"Perhaps but, I'm willing to take that chance." I retort.

She stops and looks at me, I mean, really looks at me. Then says,

"It's not an act is it, you truly are selfless?"

Knowing it was meant as rhetorical question. I just shrug, let her think what ever she wants.

"I better go, they will be replaying the reaping soon and I wanted to watch." I say heading for the door.

She wasn't paying attention to me, she looked lost in thought. So I left.

I find Edward in his room and ask,

"I was going to watch the reaping. Do you want to come?"

He joins me. As we are making our way to the media compartment, I start to wonder why I asked him to come along. Detached remember, I remind myself. I must have looked distressed because Edward took in my concerned look and assumed I was worried about the games,

"Take it one day at a time. Focus on the here and now. Worry about tomorrow, when you get there."

His words are comforting, and I find myself beginning to relax slightly…

We sit on the floor in front of the television to watching the recap.

In some districts being a tribute is an honor, they do it for the glory of the win, they start training at a young age and actually volunteer for the games. We call these tributes Careers. Careers have been known to team up during the games and eliminate the other tributes before turning on each other. Districts 1, 2, and 4 produces the most careers and win most of the games. On rare occasions another district's tribute will have some hidden talent that allow them to win.

They start airing with District 1's reaping, they will go in order from there. We are both glued to the set, watching intently.

District 1 had volunteers. Irina the girl tribute, was beautiful. Sun kissed skin, long blond hair, topaz eyes, stunning. Laurent the boy tribute, was also beautiful. He was Tall and muscular. His olive skin, long glossy hair, and golden eyes were sure to please. They both screamed Careers!

District 2 had volunteers. The girl tribute Gianna, looked strong and arrogant. The boy tribute James made my skin crawl. He had very average features but, his eyes held a primal savagery. I will avoid them, if I can.

District 3 no volunteers. Kate is the girl tribute. She looks like the teacher type. You can sense the intellect within her. Eric, the boy tribute was studious. I'll study them and see if I can pick up and useful info.

District 4 one volunteer and picked tribute. The girl, Jane is picked in the reaping and her twin brother Alec volunteers. They seem to mirror each others every movement. They are young at 14, but there was something about them that screamed… Danger! I will be precautious around them.

District 5 no volunteers. These tributes looked like day and night. Victoria the girl tribute, had wild bright red hair and her face resembled a fox's. She seem shifty, evasive almost, yet cunning at the same time. The boy tribute Nahuel had dark brown skin, and his long black hair in a single braid down his back. His movements were fluid yet executed with purpose. If she's a fox, he would be a jungle cat. Nimble and move with intent. Both strong rivals.

District 6-9 have no volunteers and nothing stands out in them. Just more kids being sent to the slaughter.

District 10 no volunteers. The girl Maria and boy Benito are olive skinned, with brown eyes, and brown hair. They both looked athletic. I would have thought they were related except they didn't share a last name. They also shared a look of determination. They wouldn't go down without a fight.

District 11 no volunteers. It was Bree the girl tribute that would haunt. She was only 12 years old. She somehow reminded me of Nessie, her brown skin, big brown eyes, and long black hair, were so dissimilar but, it was her size and demeanor, that had me reeling. Riley was the boy tribute. He has dark skin, hair and eyes like Bree but, that is were their likeness ended, he towers over her small frame, and he was built like a brick wall, strong and solid.

District 12 I watch as Nessie's name is called, and I run forward to volunteer. You can't miss the anxiety written all over my face. I see Jake pulling Nessie off me. The commentators seem at a loss for words when the crowd refuses to applaud and then they diminish our honorary salute by calling it a charming little local custom. Edward's reaping was just a quick flash of his name being called and us shaking hands. They cut to the anthem and the program ends.

We both sit there a minute processing everything we've watched.

"Her wig was crooked." Edward blurts out.

"And, she can't remember our names. Dear this and dearie that." I add.

We use Mrs. Cope as buffer from the stress we are both feeling and it works because, we both start chuckling.

"What's so funny?" asked Rosalie as she came into the room.

I'm sure my jaw hit the floor. I wasn't the only one with my mouth hanging open. We were both gawking. I cleaned her up some, but she must have brushed, dried, and styled her hair, applied some make-up and changed into nicer outfit. This Rosalie was the gorgeous.

"If your looking to catch flies you should open a window to increase your chances." she offers in response to our reactions.

I shut my mouth quickly. Edward tries to recover by asking,

"How are you feeling?"

She shrugs and replies,

"I could use a drink. Listen I wanted to talk to the both of you. If your willing to hear me out, that is?"

Looking between us waiting for an answer. We exchanged looks and silently agreed with a nod.

"I want to help the both of you. I will stay sober and do my job as mentor. I will advise, attain sponsors, and get you the gifts you need to survive the arena."

Without thinking I say,

"What's the catch? Why the sudden interested in helping? To use the phrase you so eloquently asked me earlier, what's in it for you?"

I know I sounded harsh, but I'm sure she was up to something. I just couldn't figure out what it was, but she's a selfish drunk. She wasn't doing this out of the kindness of her heart. I hear her turn to chuckle,

"You might not be a complete idiot after all. You do exactly as I say, no questions asked, I say jump, you say how high. What do you say?"

"I'm glad you want to help, really I am but, why the change of heart? Why help us?" Edward asks.

"What difference does it make, just so long as I'm helping? Do as I say and, maybe one of you will actually make it out alive."

"Why should we trust you? This could be some kind of trick or something." I say before I could stop myself.

"I have nothing to gain from actually doing my job but, the better question is, is what could it hurt to accept my help?" she says.

She had a point. We needed her help.

"What if we don't do as you say?" asks Edward

"Then you're on your own, that simple." she replies.

What choice did we really have? We both agreed.

"Get some sleep, you'll need it for tomorrow." she already starts barking orders.

We went back to our rooms and called it a night. A loud rapping on my door woke me up. The rapping came again, this time follows by a familiar voice,

"Up, up, up! Big, big, day!" Mrs. Cope sang.

I sat up, wiping the sleep from my eyes. I picked out an outfit to wear today. I picked up the pin and added it to my shirt. The gold mockingjay looked like it was flying through the forest on the green shirt I picked out. Reminding me of my time with my father, giving me a little hope for what's to come. I looked in the mirror, the braid in my hair didn't look to bad, so I leave it, I splash some cool water on my face, pat it dry, and head out.

As I enter the dinning cart, Rosalie brushes past me with a cup of black coffee, muttering obscenities under her breath, as she headed to our table.

"Come, Sit Down!" Mrs. Cope exclaims, waving me over.

Edward looked uncomfortable sitting next to her. The moment I sit down a server sets a plate filled with eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, and pancakes with maple syrup on the side. On the table sat: a tureen of fruit, a basket of rolls, muffins, and pastries, a carafe of orange juice, and Teapot with creamer and sugar dish. Most of the items were delicacies my family couldn't afford, and there was enough food on this table to feed both Jake's and my families for a week. I wondered if this is how all Capitol people ate every morning, while people from the Seam were lucky they didn't starve to death on a daily basis. I give my head a little shake. Now is not the time to think about this. I eat until I feel like I'm about to burst. Mrs. Cope excused herself to prepare for our arrival at the Capitol. Once she left Rosalie pounced,

"Stand up, let me get a good look at both of you, and see what I have to work with." As she circled us like a hawk stalking it's pray,

"You both seem fit. Your stylists will make you more attractive to the public's eyes. You're not going to like what they are going to do to you, don't complain, let them do their jobs. They are there for a reason. The Hunger Games aren't a beauty contest, but the best looking tributes seem to acquire more sponsors. Do you understand?"

"Fine." I concede. Edward adds an, "All right."

"Good!" she nods and leaves us without another word.

Just after Rosalie exit's the room it goes dark. I realized we were in a tunnel passing through the mountains that lead to the Capitol, with nothing but rock surrounding us. Edward and I just stand here still as statues. I'm not sure why Edward is so rigid but, I can't help but think of the miners. Is this how my father felt trapped, buried, and encased in darkness. My chest tightens. Just before I thought I couldn't take another second bright sunlight flood the compartment.

As if awakening from a trance, Edward runs over to the window, I follow him. Everything is in such vivid colors, it looks contrived. Rainbow tinted buildings, shiny cars, plump oddly dressed people with brightly colored hair and painted faces.

They must recognize the tribute train because, they point and look our way with excited expressions. Their excitement at our impending demise is sickening. I step away from the window.

Edward smiles and waves. By appearing stoic at the reaping, the other tributes will think he's brave. His amenable nature with Rosalie and gentlemanly gestures with Mrs. Cope. It all made sense now. He was already playing the game. Smart Boy! Game Face On! Let the games begin!

End Note: Please, Review!

Up Next,

Transformations.