This was most likely the hardest point of the Hunger Games. Saying goodbye. The put the tributes in a room, and gave them about an hour to get out any last things they felt needed to be said before they were shipped to the capitol and never seen again. One hour to say goodbye. I couldn't help but feel spite biting up to my lips.
I'm deposited into one of the most luxurious areas I've ever seen. The carpet had to have costed thousands. There was a long lush couch that I was afraid to sit on, and a few equally expensive chairs. There is only one window and its not big enough to even get my shoulders through. As if I could escape anyway.
It's like a prison, really. A comfortable, lovely prison. It's because the capitol disapproves of escaped tributes. They think it's an honor to participate in the murder of your fellow human beings. I suppose they can't fathom why we'd want to escape.
An hour. I already know I won't use it all. My family will not be very good at this goodbye. As far as my mother is concerned, I do not exist but to help decorate cakes. My brothers are hardly ever around. I can expect a lot of silence from my father. I still love them all, of course. But I can't see them making it anything but short and to the point.
My brothers enter first. Both look ashamed, brooding. I can't hold it against them, nor would I want to. I just hope whatever they have to say to me, they intend to make it brief.
"Well Peeta…" Glenn says. "Guess luck just wasn't on your side this time." I know he means it as a jibe, a way to get my spirits up; but we all know it's futile. The only way I'll be returning to District Twelve is in a pine box. The air is thick with a disturbing heat that fills my entire being. I feel like I might choke. Glenn and I are only so close, but he does know a few things; like my crush on Katniss, like my desire to get out of the family business and work with paint. Things that the rest of my family find trivial.
Collin steps up and holds out his hand to shake mine. I take his hand in mine, and for the first time, it really hits me how different we really are.
Although we look almost the same, act the same, and dress the same… Collin could never bear to do this. He is not strong enough.
He looks me in the eyes and stares for a long moment.
"Don't give up Peeta." He says to me. "Fight them. And win. But…" He trails off. Glenn places a hand on my shoulder and the both look at me.
"Be yourself Peeta." Glenn finishes. "Don't be anyone but yourself." And to my surprise, he embraces me. So quickly I almost don't believe it. Then, they are gone. And I am alone.
The silence doesn't last long however, for my mother and father follow shortly after. My mother is not easy to see. My whole life, I've struggled with her, her beatings, her rages, her discontent for me. It has never been easy.
But now she's here. I don't say anything, just stare at both of them. I don't know what to say. Well, I'll see you in the next life. Wish me a quick and painless end.
"She's a survivor that one." She says. I nod. I know Katniss will survive. Especially if I have anything to do with it. Katniss will come home, come home and take care of her family. They need her. I look to my mother again but she has stopped talking. My father does not speak either. For a few more moments, the silence is almost tangible. Then-
"Maybe we will finally have a victor this year." Her eyes were shining, and I saw that she was about to cry. For a moment, a swell of pride, hope, came about in my heart. Could she mean? But as quickly as it came it disappeared, and I realized who she was really referring to.
My own mother did not expect me to come home. But, why should she? I'm the "delicate" one of the brood. Not physically, that was Collin. But I was unwilling to do anything to hurt anyone else. Quiet, gentle Peeta. That's all that anyone ever really saw.
There's no use in fussing over how everyone sees me now though. So, knowing this is my last goodbye, I take my mother into my arms.
"I love you mother." I say. She sobs quickly and wriggles free. Unable to bear it anymore, she rushes out of the room. It is now just my father and I. For a few moments, he and I just look at each other. I can see the weariness behind his eyes. The frustration in his fists. The exhaustion in his shoulders. Then, unexpectedly, he embraces me, just as Glenn did.
I feel like a small child and it is now that I allow the fear to really take its toll on me. I sob into his arm, knowing I'm acting foolish, but I don't care. I'll be dead soon enough anyway.
My father doesn't speak. He just allows me to bury myself in the comfort of having someone close.
Once I'm done embarrassing myself to the fullest extent, I push away from him and look him square in the eye.
"I have a favor to ask." I say calmly. "It's about the little girl, Primrose Everdeen, Katniss' sister-" But I am cut off. His hand is held up and his eyebrows are lifted.
"I figured you would ask." He says. "I will do all that I can. But Peeta… do try to do something for you, for once." He smiles slightly and pats my shoulder. I smile back. This is how my father tells me he loves me.
I am alone now. I'm not really sure how to feel. Sad, scared, anxious, happy? I feel so many things all at once. There's no precedence to all of this. It's just a jumbled mix of separate emotions. Not all of it even makes that much sense. But it matters little, because the door opens again and I am surprised to see Primrose join me in my small prison room.
Had she already talked to her sister? It looked like it. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was red. She held her skinny limbs together, as if she might fall apart.
"Prim-" She embraces me quickly, and tears are suddenly pouring down her cheeks.
"I know I don't know you all that much." She says, hiccupping ever couple of words. "But, please, take this. And… Don't let Katniss fool you. She needs a friend. She just… She can't see it right now." She opens up my hand and puts in a small blue ribbon. I clasp it in my own and squeeze her shoulders gently.
"I know you are supposed to be enemies." She says to me. She doesn't bother to make any assumptions. She sees right through things. "But I can't help hoping she wins. Please understand." I do. I place the ribbon in my pocket and pat her head.
"Keep a secret Prim?" She nods, sniffling. "I'm hoping she wins too. But don't worry, I'll keep her safe. I have to." She does not question it. The peacekeepers return and she sends one last fleeting glance my way, and then she's gone.
The next hours pass by too fast for me to really function fully. In fact, I take it upon myself to zone out most of the day, save for catching another look from Katniss, who clearly has seen that I have been crying my eyes out. But I can't find it in myself to care. I ignore it. It's best if Katniss does not know what I feel for her right now; what I promised her sister. She will find out my intentions soon enough.
We board a train that's luxury far exceeds that of the small room of the justice building, and once it begins to move, it confirms any suspicions I have of it being more expensive than anything I could ever imagine.
I am led to a room that I will be staying in during the travel to the Capitol. I am baffled by this easily, and awed; I've never had my own room, I've always shared with Collin or Glenn at some point. That fact led into another, and I realized this room was easily almost twice the size of my own, which is saying something, for we have been blessed with a generally large establishment for District Twelve standards.
I am told that I am entitled to utilize anything that the room contains. Clothes, food, bed, shower; and I don't think I'll have a problem taking advantage of all of it.
I take a shower quickly, and find myself unaccustomed, but most intrigued by the hot water and the lovely smells falling out of the faucet. It takes me several minutes to get past my excitement of trying all of the buttons, feeling like a child again, before I finally settle in and finish washing up, feeling possibly cleaner than I had my whole life.
However upon jumping out and changing, I find myself unwilling to pull on new clothes, preferring to wear what I came in. It wasn't terribly dirty anyway. No harm done. I am not quite ready to become one of them so easily. It will be different upon getting to the Capitol. I have no choice there.
On my way out the door I run straight into a Capitol attendant, who it seems has come to retrieve me for supper. I allow him to lead me on and on my way, find myself in the face of none other than a very drunk Haymitch Abernathy. He pushes past me hastily and I notice he has a green tinge to his skin. He mumbles something about taking a nap and continues on down the hallway.
I walk into the dining room and am again struck in awe. The dishes are made of crystal clear diamond like glass, large decorated porcelain bowls, fancy metal utensils placed meticulously around the table. There are four places set.
I choose a seat nearest the window, and find myself gazing out it as the country side flies by. We're going by much too fast for my liking so it is not long before I turn away in haste, not wanting to get sick.
I touch a plate tentatively, as if at any moment it might disappear. For all I know, it might. Did the Capitol do this to lure us into a false sense of security? Or are they trying to be kind, let us have even the finest luxury before our imminent death? Or perhaps try to get us to transition smoothly, should we actually be victorious?
Perhaps, I'd never know.