Chapter Two: Goodbye Goldie

Her chest had constricted the moment she heard her name called out; sounding unusually formal with the accentuated vowels of a Capitol twang.

She heard a cry sound behind her and recognised it as her sister's, but she wouldn't allow herself to look back.

Already the girls standing immediately around her had backed away to isolate her, sharing looks of pity and guilty relief. It was a universal action that plagued all districts, to distance oneself from the designated tribute as soon as they had been identified. What for? She barely knew herself. It wasn't as if they would be taken with them. But somehow it was a human instinct. As soon as you were singled out, it was you and us. Whether they meant to or not, they had already sealed you off.

Alone.

She pressed her lips tightly together in a thin white line, and made her way through the crowd horizontally to the main walkway leading to the stage, on shaky legs.

She was brought onto the stage to the gleeful praise of the escort as she shook her hand daintily. A round of applause was offered up and during it she allowed herself to seek out her family.

Her sister was gone and so were her husband and little fair Eldi. She hoped that her sister was fine. Her mother, father and brother remained standing with grim faces. A neighbour of theirs was standing with her mother, an arm secured around her shoulders.

Even from the stage she could recognise how her mother was struggling to hold it together. Her brother and father's faces were tense. She could recognise the emotion on their faces. She had seen it on countless faces before.

The expression of helplessness.

The applause died off. Looking at the crowd of faces; hollow cheeks and sunken eyes, one would never guess they could produce such a positively associated sound as applause.

She felt awkward standing there staring down into the faces of those she had grown up with.

It will probably be the last time I ever see them, she thought to herself.

A boy's name was called.

"Frenkin Handalriss."

She recognised it vaguely and turned her head to see him.

A boy at least two heads smaller than her with a pair of glasses that had been handed down to him, stepped out. She had seen him teaching Eldi and a few other children some tricks with a pebble.

She sighed deeply. He was twelve.

She watched him approach the stage slowly with pity in her eyes. She only hoped she wouldn't have to be the one to kill him.

A sudden thought crossed her mind. How do they see me? She was just above average height and was lean by force rather than choice.

I don't exactly look too strong either, she thought to herself. And when the time came to shake hands as she towered above him, she took his sweaty palm and gave it a tender and reassuring squeeze.

Rushed into the building by Peacekeepers they were separated into two different rooms.

She had managed to quell the panic bubbling up inside her threatening to choke her. She was expecting her family through the door any moment, and she didn't want them to find her a mess. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably though and her legs felt weak beneath her.

How many years had she envisioned this scenario in her nightmares? And yet all the words of advice passed down over the years were now garbled and she couldn't understand them.

She tried to force herself to keep calm. She was Stephanie Trindlesworth; great, great granddaughter of the 16th Hunger Games Victor.

Just then, as she expected, her family burst into the room.

She was immediately pulled into a crushing embrace by her sister, albeit a little awkwardly because of her protruding bump. Stephanie could feel the hot tears against her cheek and she felt like crying herself but she didn't.

She pulled away from her sister and holding her firmly by the shoulders gave a bright smile and said, "Come on Weisna. I'll be back in time to meet the little one, you can bet on it."

Her older sister Weisna gave a shaky laugh swiping at the tears apologetically, before her husband appeared at her side with little Eldi in his arms.

The child stretched her thin arms outwards and Stephanie gladly accepted the little one into her arms. Huge blue eyes stared back at her innocently.

"Goldie is goin' way." The little voice held a note of irritation, as the child pouted stubbornly; annoyed that her favourite auntie was leaving her.

"Yes, Goldie has to go away," she replied.

The nickname Goldie was coined by the child herself. Unable to pronounce her name 'Stephanie', she had christened her Goldie due to her unusual colour of eyes, which were in all respects, best described as golden. Like her great, great grandfather who was Victor, she had been told many times.

Well, here's hoping that eye colour is not the only thing I take after him, she thought to herself.

She was pulled out of her musing by the insistent child in her arms.

"Is Goldie coming back soon?" she asked.

Around the room a tense air settled choking everyone's throat, as the child stared oblivious up at her waiting patiently for its answer.

It was Dar; Weisna's husband that broke the silence. "Of course she is," he said confidently, and with that the child was satisfied with her father's words. Stephanie handed Eldi back to him with a grateful smile, to which Dar nodded in understanding.

Next her father embraced her tightly with his one arm, having lost his left arm in a factory accident.

"Trindlesworth Victor blood runs in your veins Stephanie. You can do this," he whispered fiercely to her, and she nodded, wanting to believe with all her heart in his words.

Her brother held her tightly for a few moments before releasing her, and she seen the anger reflected in his eyes as his jaw was set rigidly. She smiled sadly at him. "Look after them for me," she said. He snorted rather childishly at her before ruffling her brunette hair. "Yeah right squirt, you'll be picking up the extra chores that I had to do when you get back!" he said.

Lastly, it was her mother who held her fiercely before stepping back to look at her. "My beautiful daughter…come back to us," her voice cracked a little, and Stephanie could only give an abrupt nod, not able to trust her own voice.

A short time later she was stepping onto a train, trailed by a red-eyed and nosed Frenkin. She couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor boy as he sniffed pitifully, curling up in one of the chairs in the carriage.

The few gathered to see them off, including the Mayor, solemnly waved them goodbye.

A mutual look of understanding passed between them. They never expected to see one another again.

The carriage was impressive, and she might have took the time to fawn over it and the numerous plates of edibles arranged for them, but for the gut-wrenching and nauseating feeling that claimed her as the train pulled silently away from the station.

She managed to remain standing for a full minute and a half. Before her knees gave way and she collided with the steel floor of the train as unconsciousness sunk its claws into her, dragging her down.