Chapter 2: The Train

District 4 - Justice Building

A hum in my ears slowly dissipates. I begin to hear many voices.

My eyelids flutter open, and I sit up. I'm on a cushy couch covered in... velvet? It seems like it. Light floods into the room from massive windows behind me, so bright it hurts, and I notice Mama on the chair in the corner.

My siblings are all huddled around her. Suddenly, little five-year-old Sandy points at me. "Mama! Look!"

Everyone practically tackles me. I feel dazed, like a fish out of water. "What's going on?" I whisper. "Where am I?"

"You volunteered," Riptide says softly, his shaggy brown hair falling over one of his eyes.

My memories flood back. The girl in the old dress, me volunteering, the blackout...

"Ah..." That's all I say. That's all I can say.

"You have ninety seconds," says a Peacekeeper from the door.

Riptide glares at him. "She was asleep for thirteen minutes. That's not fair."

"That's your problem," the Peacekeeper says.

"You're my problem," Riptide mumbles as the Peacekeeper shuts the door.

"Stop it," Shelly says, rubbing her temples.

Wave grips my hands. He's the oldest child out of all of us, this having been his last year in the Reaping. "Listen, Sea-Pearl. When you're in the Arena, join the other Tributes from One and Two. Join the boy from our District. You can kill them off near the end to win."

I nod slowly, my head still pounding with blood. It was like I could hear him, but his words didn't process.

"Get a sword, a spear, a slingshot, whatever," he continues. His brown eyes are wide and earnest. "You're going to come back, okay?"

"Alright, thirty seconds," the Peacekeeper says, reappearing.

My siblings and mother hug me, saying they love me. Anemone, the youngest at barely three, sucks her thumb, clutched tightly in Sunfish's arms. She watches us curiously, too little to understand everything.

Mama puts her hand near my eye, on my cheek. Her hand is warm, and calloused from years of working at the dock. I look into Mama's eyes, the same blue hue as mine. I can see she isn't fighting off tears. She's fighting off a breakdown. "Alright, my angelfish. Stay safe. We'll be watching you. There is no doubt in my mind that you can do this. You can."

"Time's up," says the Peacekeeper.

My siblings begin to shout, reaching to hug me again, possibly for the last time.

I realize I'm crying, and trying to hug them, too. This could be the last time I see my family. This could be the last time I hear their voices.

"Sea-Pearl!" Seagrass says. "Keep this. Remember us in the Arena." She shoves something into my palm.

A Peacekeeper grabs her, trying to carry her outside. Time is up and so is their patience.

"Let go of her!" I shout.

I stand up, two of my brothers tackling the Peacekeeper.

Seagrass screams as he drops her on the floor. "Sea-Pearl!"

Strong hands grab my arms, and yank me back out of the way. I trip, sandals sliding, dizziness making my vision tilt before I fall onto the polished darkwood floor.

I see Oceanis' frightened expression from the grand doors, and she runs towards me, brown hair flying. A Peacekeeper presses something to her shoulder, and she gasps, falling into a lump.

It was probably one of their sedating needles. They carry them on the ends of small rectangles that look like remotes. One poke, and you're out for a few hours.

However, I don't care if it just put her to sleep. She looked scared. My little sister needs me. I wobble up, head pounding, and grab the Peacekeepers' wrist while he's not looking, instead reaching for Skipper. Twisting his wrist as hard as I can, he shouts.

Suddenly another pair of hands grab my shoulders, shoving me into the wall. My head crashes into a bookshelf. Collapsing onto the floor, I clutch my skull.

There's a loud ringing in my ears... No, wait... It's me. I slowly realize I'm screaming, and so do the Peacekeepers.

I feel something sharp, like a mosquito bite on my arm. Slowly, I stop screaming, and breathe calmly, willing myself to stay awake. But I can sense my eyelids getting heavy. I stretch out my arm, looking to see what my Token is from Seagrass. I want it to be the last thing I see before I fall asleep.

I open my fingers, and it feels like I'm lifting weights. Curling my fingers up all the way, I notice that the Token is string. 3 beads, too. 3 creamy-white beads. Wait... It seems too familiar. Too smooth. I squint, and the slit of vision I have clears. I close my eyes, and silently laugh. They aren't beads. They're pearls.

Pearls.

The Train

I stretch out my hand, and close my fist. My eyes fly open. Where is the bracelet?

I whip my face around, and sigh in relief. My Token is safe, sitting on my mahogany dresser. Wait... where am I?

Looking about, I realize that I'm on a plush bed in a lavishly furnished room. I stroke the silky covers, thinking. The train. The one that speeds Tributes to the Capitol. That must be it.

I stand up and walk towards the windows, stopping, the soft hum of the engine the only hint that I'm moving. Opening the shades, I watch mountainous, rocky terrain zoom by. It's a change from flat District 4. I think we may be in District 1. We'll probably be at the Capitol soon.

I see that my arm is in bandages around where the guard stuck the needle to put me to sleep. Rubbing the tender wound, I walk outside of my room through a gray door into a hallway. More windows line the hall, noise floating down from further up. I walk silently, my sandals padding on the carpet.

In what I take to be the Eating Compartment, Finnick Odair and Emma Binghamton are talking to someone. They would be impossible to not recognize, both Victors. It's bizarre seeing them up close, rather than on television or on the stage at the Reaping. Finnick Odair, especially, is like the pride and joy of District 4 due to being the youngest Victor ever, when he won three years ago at my current age. He doesn't look like a kid anymore, though. He has a look on his face too mature to be 17.

Emma Binghamton, who won the 58th Games, smiles. I realize she shares her first name with the girl who was originally supposed to be a Tribute in these Hunger Games. It doesn't help me relax. "Hi, Sea-Pearl," Emma says sweetly. Her hazel eyes crinkle at the corners.

I almost would never believe that fifteen years ago, she killed two tributes with a knife before they realized the pack from District 2 and 4 had found them.

She can smile all she wants. I've seen the reruns on television. She's a murderer.

I look over at Finnick Odair with his famous sea-green eyes. He's the same as Emma as far I care.

Finnick nods at me, sitting at the dining table piled with dishes of food. I sit down next to the other person. He turns to face me, and smiles, looking a year or so older. He has reddish-blond hair, the color of copper and sand. His eyes remind me of the sea, and his smile makes me uncomfortable. He'll be just like the other usual volunteers from our District no doubt. "I'm Bale Evestrom," he says.

I just blink, and he laughs somewhat nervously. Bale clears his throat. "So, you volunteered for that girl. Was she a family member?"

I simply shake my head. "No." Then I face the empty china plate in front of me, and notice how hungry I am. I pile my plate up with fruits and vegetables, ones I don't even know the name of but that look colorful and enticing. I also get some salmon and bread, eating silently.

Later, we watch the Reapings. I make my hair a blonde curtain, watching as I volunteer in Emma's place. Then sway. Then collapse.

I can sense Bale looking, and that just makes it worse.

"You look great," Emma assures me. I just shake my head.

Bale volunteers. He will probably just form an alliance with the first two Districts. And I will be expected to, also.

Wave's voice comes back to me. Join the other Tributes from One and Two. Join the boy from our District. You can kill them off at the end to win.

To win