While we are not right on top of the Capitol, District three is not the farthest away either. Right as we get on board we're told it should take us about a day and a half to arrive at the Capitol. Before I'm allowed to even get a glimpse of where I'll be living for that time, I'm pushed into a room that seemed too large to exists on the train, and I'm told that this is where I'll be sleeping tonight and the next before we make our first appearance.
The room is simple, just a bed and a wall dresser with small windows that let in enough light to see by. There is a note resting on my pillow, instructing me to change into some decent clothes and join my escort and mentors for lunch once I'm settled.
I read the note again and wonder where I would get a change of clothes. I wasn't allowed to bring anything with me other than what I was already wearing. Then it dawns on me to actually check the dresser drawers. Digging through the millions of dresses, I finally emerge with a pair of pants and a too-big sweater that falls almost to my knees. Digging further into the drawers, I find a pair of boots that fit almost perfectly.
There's a mirror above the bed, and I slowly redo my hair and pin it up into a bun, eager to push leaving my cabin as long as I can. I'm not ready to face the reality of the situation. I'm not ready to see Zane or ask why he would risk his own life for my brother's.
Tears threaten the surface once more, but I push them back down, remembering what Chris told me.
I am strong. I am strong. I will not let this destroy me. I will be brave. I will be strong.
For what feels like hours I stare at my reflection, taking in every last detail before I am plucked and pampered by the Capitol stylists.
My figure will remain the same—average height, a bit scrawny, but strong—but everything else about me may change. My long eyelashes sheltering my sea blue eyes will be covered in makeup, and my thin pink lips will be plumped to perfection so as to please the crowd. It's possible they'll cut my long black hair. I'll be waxed, sprayed, painted on, dressed up, and tortured in every legal sense of the word just to make me look pretty.
Just to make them like me.
I had seen it happen every year. The year my brother was reaped, he was almost unrecognizable. They had forced his hair to settle in a way that was not natural in any world. They altered his face with so much makeup it was almost criminal. My mother nearly fainted. When it came time for the games to actually begin, we saw more of the Kurt we had all grown up with. Except he was almost always covered in dirt and blood. We had lost track of where his blood ended and another tribute's began. That year had been a particularly bad one for bloodbaths. A number of tributes died by bleeding out after escaping the vicious murder done by the Careers. They would hide away somewhere and beg for death. Kurt was caught in a bloodbath, and the Career who had killed him decided to have mercy and ended it quickly. He was dead within minutes.
I shuddered at the memory, remembering the sound of the cannon that announced him dead. I didn't want to think about what would happen to my family if one of those cannons went off for me.
I finally decide that I can't put off this meeting forever, and exit my cabin. The sun is still relatively high, and I wonder if Districts eleven and twelve have had their reapings yet.
It's only when I begin walking down the long hall that contains my room and various other doors that I realize I have no idea which way to go. I turn back around and start looking at each door, trying to spot a clue that will show which way leads to where we will be eating. Each door has a nameplate on it that says mentor, escort, tribute boy, or tribute girl on it. I assume these are where each one of us will be sleeping and keep walking until I reach the door that says tribute boy. I stop and stand outside the door, barely feeling the slight rock of the train. Bracing myself against the movement, I debate whether or not I should take a peak inside, if I should thank him, or just be on my way. Before I can even decide however, the door slides open and Zane saunters out in an outfit similar to mine. He sees me and gives me a slightly cocky grin.
"Ready to face them?"
I play with the sleeve of my sweater and gather a handful in a fist. I grit my teeth and nod. "Do you have any idea where we have to go?" I ask him.
"Not a clue." He smiles again and leads the way passed my room. My cheeks burn when his back is turned and I follow close behind so as not to get lost. It was only now that all of the chaos of the reaping was over that I noticed how much taller he was than I. He doesn't tower over me, but the top of my head barely grazes the bottom his chin.
I bite my lip as my cheeks burn a brighter red, and he cocks his head slightly back at me. "I'm not losing you already, am I?"
Without thinking I clear my throat and squeak out a quiet, "No."
He chuckles under his breath and we keep walking towards an unknown destination. We finally come to a door at the end of the hall with a small window, and see Courtney Spark sitting alone at a large wooden table set for five.
"Ah, my courageous boy and pretty girl, come and join me! We can watch the other tributes' reapings while we eat. As soon as your mentors arrive that is."
I'm pretty sure the scowl on my face was identical to Zane's as we sat next to each other as instructed by our bubbly escort.
Our moods quickly changed once we saw the enormous platter laid out in front of us. There was every kind of fruit I had ever heard of, plus more. People I could only assume were Avoxes stood silently in the corners, balancing different types of soup, chowder, meat platters, salad dishes, any food you could think of, in their hands. Courtney only had to snap her fingers, and a small cluster would move forward and present what they were holding to her and us. I didn't know what to choose first, and Zane was just as dumbfounded as I was.
"Well dig in, dig in! There's no reason to wait for those silly mentors. I'm sure you're starving. I know I am." Courtney gestures with her hands to choose something, and despite her comment, she only takes a small bit of salad and orders an Avox to slice up one of the juicy apples on the table.
Zane is the first of the two of us to jump right in. He takes slices of chicken and a side of clam chowder and has filled up his plate before I can even dish out one serving of tomato soup. He digs right into his meal, moaning quietly between each bite. Cautiously, I take a spoonful of my soup and sip slowly. A small groan slips passed my lips and I dig in just as quickly as Zane. The food was rich and filling, and the soup slid gently down my throat. Courtney smiled at the head of the table. "It's always curious watching the tributes eat. They seem to think it is so much tastier than any other food they may get at home." She sips at her wine and shrugs her shoulders. While her comment doesn't completely escape my notice, it seems as though it went over Zane's head. He barely stops eating to take a single breath, let alone correct Courtney.
She continues sipping at her wine and picking at her food, her bright yellow hair bobbing back and forth every time she moves her head. Other than her few thoughtless comments, the meal is silent, and in a few minutes both Zane and I are sitting back in our seats holding our stomachs, having taken at least one bite of everything there was to offer.
As soon as I close my eyes, I hear the door open and shut and feet scuffling inside. I take a peek through one eye and see two people shuffle inside and sit behind Courtney on the couch.
"There you two are! You will be no help to this year's tributes if you hide from them! Zane, Ebony, these are your mentors. Beetee, Wiress, these are this years tributes for District three."
I open my eyes to see two small figures cowering together on the couch. They both have the pale, ashen skin that is seen quite often in adults in District three, and dark black hair. The man sits up straight, his wire glasses practically falling off of his face in the process. "Hello. I am Beetee, and this is Wiress." He gives a warm smile towards Zane and I. "We'll be your mentors for the duration of the Games. We're sorry this has happened to you two."
Courtney glares at him and stands up awkwardly before settling on the couch opposite the two. Wiress has yet to say a word, but keeps toying with a small device in her lap. Although Beetee looks much older, they could easily be mistaken for twins.
"It's a, nice to meet you. Thanks for being here to support us," Zane says. He sits up straight and watches the two twitter together on the couch, and Courtney click her tongue at the pair.
"Well, I think it's time to watch the other tributes, don't you?" She reaches for the remote and turns on the giant television set. "Come on you two, don't dawdle, join us!"
I sluggishly walk over to the remaining couch and collapse into the soft pillows. Zane sits next to me and we turn our attention to Ceasar Flickerman who is introducing the games as he always does.
"Everyone shh, shush, pay attention, this is important!" Courtney screeches at us, despite the already silent room.
Ceasar opens the program by interviewing the head Gamemaker like he does every year. And like every year, he says we must wait to see what the arena will look like. The crowd goes wild in anticipation, and after they calm down, Ceasar turns to the giant screen behind him to show the reapings.
District one is first, in all of it's shining glory. The people and area are sparkling and golden. Even the District one escort is dazzling in all gold, and speaks proudly of her victorious district. She makes even more of a show about choosing the tributes than Courtney did, and as the camera pans to the crowd, many of the eligible are sitting on the edge of their seats.
"Cashmere Glory!" The escorts voice rings loud and clear through the district, and a small blonde bounces up towards the stage. The camera zooms in on her face, and she appears to be too happy to be chosen. Her green eyes are staring directly at us through the camera as if she was already on her victory tour.
Zane snorts with disgust beside me and crosses his arms. I hug my knees to my chest.
Cashmere stands next to the glowing escort as she pulls the male tributes name from the bowl. Before the boy even stands, a large, strong looking Career stands and shouts, "I volunteer!" He stares ahead confidently and saunters over to the stage. He states his name as Troy Gold and takes his place next to Cashmere. Both look ready to win.
The television cuts to District two, who seem to stand even prouder than District one. The female tribute, Jenna Harold, volunteers before the escort has his hand out of the reaping ball. She smiles maniacally as she marches to the stage. The male tribute, Damien Travesty, also volunteers. Both appear to be strong and ready to kill anyone who gets in their path.
And then it is time for District three. Courtney shushes us once more, so excited to see herself on the television, while Zane looks repulsed and closes his eyes. I curl into a tighter ball as Courtney pulls my name from the bowl and I stand and walk slowly to the stage. Our awkward encounter about Kurt was caught on camera, and I'm surprised at the amount of hatred and venom I see in my gaze.
When Dean's name was pulled, I almost burst into a fresh set of tears. I see him struggling against the Peacekeepers once more, and can hear my cracking voice in the background, begging.
And then there is Zane's voice, and he is calling up to the stage that he volunteers. The Zane sitting next to me barely bats an eye and I'm almost convinced he's fallen asleep until I see him flinch at the sound of Courtney's voice announcing, "May the odds be ever in your favor." Clearly the odds are in neither of our favors.
District four was much like Districts one and two. The female tribute—who couldn't have been older than thirteen—was called, and the male volunteered after a small looking twelve year old was reaped. Their tributes, Sabrina White and Gareth Shepherd, looked as though they could have been related, with their strong posture and same bronze colored hair and tanned skin. Like most of District three, their eyes were a sea green-blue, and they stood intensely staring into the cameras. Their mentor, Finnick Odair, was cockily standing in the background, chatting with the escort as the camera cut to District five.
The District five tributes were Keegan Reele and Emmet Greene, who both looked terrified to be chosen, like any normal citizen in Panem. District six's tributes Keely Ross and Lex Fir looked the same exact way.
District seven's two tributes, Oakley Yates and Elwood Drover, both looked strong and powerful, but not in the same way as the Careers did. The Careers trained for the Games, while District seven's supply was lumber. The girl, Oakley, looked as though she had worked with an ax her entire life. The boy, Elwood, was much smaller, but still had arms that would make a grown man proud.
District eight looked sullen and frightened. The female tribute, Tai Lots, looked too small to even be eligible, let alone to be able to survive. The male, Kyden Kris, just looked exhausted and on the verge of collapse.
The District nine tributes, Priella Donner and Bond Writs, looked strong in the same sense District seven looked strong. They would be able to hold their own.
Winnie Bell and Spencer Trive of District ten looked as though they knew this moment was coming, that they knew they had been chosen. By the look of the large, sobbing families in the background, both tributes must have had to take out a lot of tesserae to support them.
District eleven stood erect and well controlled, as it had been rumored. Their tributes, Maelie Cleave and Hamlet James, were an odd pair, with Hamlet being so much smaller, but they stood on the stage as any other District had.
Finally, District twelve came on screen. Watching in the past, it always depressed me seeing the small children covered in soot from the coalmines. Their tributes, Aderyn Isis and Coleman Rites, appeared to be around the same age, and stood silently next to their escort and drunken mentor. While they looked to be older, they were small and skinny, definitely underfed.
When the last clips of District twelve disappeared, Courtney shushed the rest of us for a third time as Ceasar Flickerman appeared on screen. Zane, unable to stand her screeching excitement a moment longer, stole the remote from her and turned the television off.
"Now. How do we win?"