A jolt of the train, more violent than the others, wake me up throwing me on the floor. I'm tangled in my sheets sticky with sweat. I did not even undress for bed. Behind my door, I hear someone who hits the wall quiet hard. There is a moment of silence. Then, Eila knocks on my door before opening it before I give her permission. Anyway, I guess she does not need it.

Her eyes are red from tears or sleep, I do not really know. Her untied hair is so tangled that it looks like several bird nests built into each other. Wispy curls stick up on her head. Her nose is red. So, it is really her that the train's shock has made hit my door. She looks ridiculous.
When she sees me, her misty eyes wake up and she bursts into a crystalline laughter.
"What? What makes you laugh?" I growl with a half awake voice.
"If you could see you," she giggles, "you look like a big silkworm."
It is the first time that someone compared me with a silkworm.
"And you, you look like a zombie. Or no, the village madwoman. You know, the one that hosts the pigeons in her room," I retort in an acid tone.
She raises her eyes to heaven and tries to take an outraged face but the shadow of a smile floats on her lips. By paying attention, she really looks like the crazy old woman of the village. Because of the hair, especially. Eila approaches me and begins to help me extricate myself from my prison of blankets. I would like to reject her and tell her that I do not need her. I really want to. But I can't. I have promised Seeder that I would try my best to be friendly with her. Or at least nice. Eila had discovered all at once. She is much more observant than she tries to appear. Or maybe it is me who is not very good. I won't be really surprised. I don't like acting.
Finally got rid of my sheets, I get up, stretching. Eila approaches me and unsticks my bandage off to see what my bruise looks like. By pure reflex, I push her back. She almost collapses against the dresser but recovers just in time.

"Have I hurt you?" she asks me anxiously.
But she focuses on Fulia Maylord as she crosses the corridor at that time. The hostess does not give us a look and continues her way to the compartment where we had dinner. I wonder if she will take breakfast with us. Eila watches her go. An anxious wrinkle streaks her forehead. I do not understand her troubled look.
A ridiculously loud gurgling sound escapes from my stomach. I am doing the one who has not heard but Eila grabs me by the arm, any tension evaporated from her face, and draws me to the lounge car where an impressive breakfast awaits us. I ate at dinner so much that my stomach had tortured me much of the night. But I don't regret it. I even think that if it had still steak, I would second helping.
"Good morning", Seeder welcomes us with a warm smile.
She exchanges a glance with Eila who observes her from the corner of her eye as she sat down at her right. This girl, she is hiding something. I thought that she was stupid, thoughtless and whining, well, I was wrong for at least the first two. She has a few trick up her sleeve. I think I hate her even more now that I know her being vicious and manipulative. I'll beware of her big innocent eyes. She keeps her cards hidden pretty well behind her poor unfortunate look.
Fulia stares at her coffee with a neutral face. I'm surprised to see her eat. So this woman is really human? This is not a robot sent from the Capitol? She may has primary needs like us but I doubt she has feelings.

Through the window, the landscape scrolls at high speed. Eila is fascinated by the spectacle. I want to look at her as the stupid girl from yesterday but in view of the recent revelations about her, I can only observe her with suspicious eyes. Who knows what's going on under her tousled hair? I'm almost sure to hear her brain thinking at full speed.
The smell of hot pastries reminds me of my duty: eat everything I see. I had seen pastries at the bakery, on the village place, but I had never touched one. I swallow a half of a bread with raisins and an egg in three minutes. While my face is leaning on my plate, I notice Eila watching me with tender eyes. I feel like a too greedy child that has just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar by a loving mother. I want to remove that facial expression. It makes me want to vomit.

"What?" I ask my mouth full of hot little cakes.
She seems to end her daydream and shakes her head, smiling.
"You remind me of my brother, Clael. He eats, well devores, like you. You know him? He works in the same field as you."
For knowing him, I know him. He is the one who has rearanged my face.
"I may have seen hom, once or twice," I reply, shrugging with of a blasé attitude.
I drink my coffee and and end up choking and tossing. It's so bitter that I wince. Fulia looks up at me and raises a questioningly eyebrow. Her face can take other expressions that neutrality? Gosh. I swallow with difficulty, but I end up swallowing the rest of my coffee. I heard that it woke you up. And I need it.
"Eila," Calls Seeder in a serious voice, "you really, really have to do something with your hair."
"Oh," she responds with an embarrassed look, "it's not as if I was not trying. It is impossible to comb it. I do not even count the number of comb that I broke. I have only remake one for the Reaping, just to look presentable but otherwise I leave it like that and I tie them up."
I listen carefully and note the fact that she redid her comb and not rebuy it. Which means she can do something else than observe and cry. Interesting.
"You can't stay like that. If ever the people of the Capitol see you when you get out of the train, I do not imagine their reaction. Your image would take a hit. The first impression is very important. You must seem civilized."
"But now, they would say that you leave in a cave that you share with wolves," I grind with an evil smile.

Seeder frowns at me. I become a child again for the second time in three minutes.
"I know, I know all of this is important. I'll try to do something. I will try my best but it is not won.
"There is everything you need in your bathroom, do not hesitate. Do what you can, your designers will do the rest."
"And they will have a lot on their plate," I whisper to myself.
"You have to make people want to love you," Seeder continues, "and believe me, they prefer those who do not look like savages. I'm sorry if I offended you but I really want to give you all your chances."
Our mentor throw her amiable woman mask in the trash. Her golden eyes are lit with a new light. Determination and concentration. I believe her when she says she will try everything to make one of us win.
Eila nods, grabs two toast and begins to nibble it while she disappears down the hall after casting a glance at Fulia who is drinking her fourth cup of coffee.
"You too, you should go take a shower," Seeder advises me, knitting her nose, "you stinking sweat."
I think I preferred the sweet Seeder. I know she told me that in the unique purpose of getting rid of me for having a conversation with Fulia.

I eat two or three slices of bacon dripping with fat and get up without a word. The hostess of the District Eleven and our mentor look at eachother. They seem to try to ask questions mentally. I know that once I'm gone, the discussion will take place between those two. They will talk about things that I do not need to know. I sincerely, I prefer not to know.
I do not like this train. The corridors are too narrow. The smell of varnish too strong. And my room is too tidy. But I think I will hate anything that will come from the Capitol. And it's logical.
I look at the mirror in my bathroom. I had never considered me as handsome. Yet Seeder had told me that once I will arrive at the Capitol, half of the girls will run after me. I had to play with it. Be the dark and mysterious man to torture those ladies's heart. That thought makes me laugh. If they come to believe that, they are really silly.
I take off the dressing. My cheekbone has deflated. But the bruise is not gone. Perfect. New mental note: Eila is good to heal. She knows ointments and their ingredients. Maybe having the care of her mother the days after her accident has help her.

The cold water's shower gives me a boost. Unless the coffee begins to take effect. Or both. I can not help thinking about my family. At the moment, they must all laboring in the fields under the gentle morning sun. The afternoon will be much worse. The rays will burn their skin and make them nauseous. I even think about Clael who must also work hard. The day will be long, for them and for me.
I feel much better once washed. I am refreshed and ready to rock the heart of the Capitol women. I remember what Seeder said to me. I must seem dark, inaccessible and unconquerable. Easy to say. I'm laughing again.
"You laugh alone?"
Eila is again in my room. But this time she doesn't knock. Her hair tumbled in heavy curls behind her back. Nothing to do with the wig of this morning.
"Ah! Exclaims she sees my injury, it is good! It still hurt you?"
I realize that I no longer feel any pain. What she could have put on it?
"No. At all."
"I am reassured. And look, the bruise is still here to remind people that you are a fighter. Perfect, right?"
I nod. She is so pleased with herself, or at least with her "artwork" that I can not help thinking that she has calculated everything.

We are suddenly surprised by the darkening of the room. We both rush to the window and notice that it is pitch black outside.
"The Capitol's tunnel," Eila whispers both terrified and stunned.
The train picks up speed. Knowing me buried under tons of rocks makes me uncomfortable. I notice that Eila is not feeling well either. We're used to fresh air, wide open spaces and fields of sight. I do not like feeling me trapped. It's like I was buried alive.
We do not say a word until finally, the light returns. She is so blinding and sparkling that it burns my eyes. I fold my eyes and put my hand as a visor.
The Capitol.
I had seen it several times on television, but I would have never expected so much pomp and luxury. The first thing I see are the towers, so tall that they seem to scrape the sky and tickle the clouds. They are painted with pure white, reflecting the sun. Translucent buildings, smaller than the towers, but equally impressive overlook us. Through the windows, I can see patches of bright colors waving. Probably people. Speaking of people, I note that under our windows, residents of the Capitol are pointing us with their fingers and shout. I give a nudge in Eila's ribs and show her the agitated onlookers. Some of them have made banners where it is written with large yellow and orange letters: District Eleven. We already have fans? I am impressed by the efficiency of Seeder. Eila shyly waves her hand causing hysterical screams from the crowd. I did not think we could love her so much.

But unfortunately for them, we enter the station and we disappear from their sight. I am surprised that the hall is empty. Completely empty. There is not a living soul here. Only a few cameras floating around, just not to miss anything.
Fulia picks us up. I do not know why but I expected that it would be Seeder. Or yes, I know why. Fulia doesn't care about us at all.
"Your hair is much better."
I think that Eila is as surprised as me by this sudden compliment.
Seeder awaits us at the door by which we were forced to enter, there is barely more than a day. She rapidly inspects us. I move back when she sniffs my shoulder.
"Good, you took a shower. Bravo for your hair, Eila. You're fine. They will adore you. And I think they already love you," she says with a big smile and a wink.
Eila blushes of pleasure in the compliments. It exasperates me. I would like to ask our mentor how she gets the Capitol's inhabitants on their good side but the train's door opens silently. Seeder comes first followed by Eila, me and finally Fulia bringing up the rear.
The station is impeccably clean. Large wrought iron columns hold a painted ceiling where colorful arabesques intertwined in an endless dance. Strangely, the ground is not colored as I expected, but covered with black and white tiles. As a giant chessboard. Perhaps to remind us that we are only pawns in tha Capitol's hand.
I hear a growl on my right.
Alabastair looks at us with his little pig eyes bundled up in their orbits. An evil smile slice his face. I then discovered with astonishment that all the tributes are moving forward towards the door where their number is registered District. Squads of Peacekeepers are there to remind us that every fight is prohibited.
"Eh Pretty Face and Cry-Baby!"
I understand that the ogre is talking to me and Eila.

"I will kill you first," he smiles, "and I will do necklaces with your guts!"
He bursts into a thunderous laughter that could shake the station.
We perhaps have no right to fight but intimidation seems to be permitted.
And I must say that to be threatened with death by a giant of two meters and one hundred and ten pounds is enough to give you shivers.

Hello! Thank you for reading my story. What do you think of it ? What do you think will happen to Eila and Faun ? Leave a comment!

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