The train ride to the Capitol usually takes around 2 days, even in the best conditions and with the best trains available. As tributes Cosette and Alphonse were to be treated with the very best of everything until the moment were they were supposed to be shoved in an arena and fight to the death. They were escorted to the train station by Muffin Man, the elusive Bianca and a couple of young buffed peacemakers with scars across their face. In front of them, the shiniest train model to cross the district. It stood there in is red glory, looking as invitive as giant candy, luxurious both on the outside and the inside. The golden wheels looked like they had just been polished, and Cosette was struck, glancing at every detail. In a dark and grey world, like district 8, every bit of color is soaked in and enjoyed like a rare delicacy. They were about to hop in, when an old man grabbed her from behind, only to be pushed away by peacekeepers. He shouted at them, aggressively I am her master! Let me pass! . She confirmed that it was actually him. Despite being very ill a condition that had been going for a long time he found the strength to come see her. Someone must had warned him that his apprentice was chosen to be a tribute, because he was in bed rest since the beginning of the week. He cough some blood in to a white napkin and Cosette finally wrapped her arms around him.
-You shouldn t be here master, it s too cold for your health condition she pulled his white hair from his wrinkly forehead. He looked as funky as usual: big tangled white hair pulled back by a huge pair of welding goggles, and his signature red jumpsuit, so dirty at places that some might wonder it had ever been washed. -I had to. There was no way I would let you go like this. I don t want your last memory of me, and my last memory of you, to be you force feeding me soup!
-It was for your own good! You heard de doctor, right? Hot drinks, chicken soup and bed rest.
-Honey, in my condition I might as well run naked and drink until I drop he pointed out Maybe we should race. Let s see who gets to die first!
Muffin Man covered Alphonse s ears at this point and Bianca crossed her arms waiting for the development of such a weird conversation.
-Who told you I m planning on dying?
-Come on, do you think I believe you are not going to sacrifice for the kid? I can read you like a book, and you are a very predictable book Cosette. He smirked Ah, now that s the look! The angry face. That s the last thing I want you to share with me. When you pull out that face it reminds me why I chose you as an apprentice in the first place!
They could not help but laugh. It was their style, sort of a modus operandi. They were a great team because they accepted to learn both from each other, and from their mistakes. They hugged one another, actually wondering who would win the bet.
-Red does look great on you. Matches the color of your eyes he added with a playful tone, and he walked the opposite direction, never looking back.
That was the man she most admired in the world. He shared every relevant piece of knowledge she possessed at the date. Looking at Bianca s distant expression, she could not help but wishing that he was their mentor.
The group stepped in to their carriage where a richly garnished dinner table waited for them. All types of deliciously smelling dishes sited on the table awaiting them. It didn t took half a second for the Williams to sit down and start shoving everything at sight in their mouths. The flavors felt like a dance in their tongues, and Cosette was especially delighted with a fine place of various vegetables, seasoned with colorful toppings. Alphonse had just stuck a whole chicken leg in his mouth, when he almost spat it out, in shock. Muffin Man was removing his fat! Or it looked like so. Cosette stopped a spoon half way to her mouth when she saw him remove the padding on his belly, some fake prosthetics of his face and his also, obviously fake moustache. The last one was the only part they thought was unnatural. Jon Jonhs finally revealed his true face: a skinny young man, in its late 20, with high cheek bones and his hair shaved on the left. The remaining fell to the right side of his face, in a deep blue wave.
-Oh shit no! Who are you? Cosette asked dropping her spoon, and silently apologizing to Alphonse for cussing. -I m Jon Jonhs, but definitely Muffin Man. He is just a character I pull off in your district, so to remain anonymous on my own.
-Why would you do that? she continued asking, but her and Al were the only ones who seemed astonished by his transformation. Bianca, like always, bushed her short raven hair backwards, and it was clearly visible that she didn t give a damn about him.
-I enjoy my current occupation, but my deepest dream it to be a main stylist at the Hunger Games. So, I m starting low, as an assistant to your future stylist. And you must he accentuated the must part keep this a secret.
-Your double life?
-Yes, my double life. And you should know about double lives - he added.
This remark made Cosette silent, and it finally gave space for Bianca to intervene in the conversation.
-I believe it s past bed time for Al. something in her dark eyes revealed that she had something to share, and that that something was not meant for Alphonse s ears. She laid her head on both her hands, finally taking a good look at both tributes. A long tribal style tattoo stretched from the top of her shoulders to her back. Another one, an arrow, was placed on the inside of her left forearm. On her nose, a ring; another two, larger ones, dangled from her left ear. Rumors circulated on 8 about her appearance, and all of them seemed to be truth. Cosette was actually exited to meet her. She was elusive enough to be mysterious, but at the same time, a public figure. She grabbed her nephew by the hand, and a helpful waitress escorted them to his room. After tucking him in, she came back to the table, to see Jons and Bianca in opposite sides, facing the other way. This made her feel uncomfortable, but still she sat there and tried to munch on some carrots. It took an unusual amount of time for Bianca to break the silence. She was not much of a talkative person, Cosette figured.
-So, what is your plan?
-My plan? The question made her uneasy am I supposed to have one?
-Yeah, you have she gave a dry laugh and proceeded I see your point of view. Most tributes have a 1 in 23 chance to get out alive. Yours resembles zero. Still, if you wish to save the child you must come with a plan and stick to it!
It took a while for Cosette to answer with a hopeless sigh I have absolutely no idea what to do.
She then proceeded to gaze at her plate. It was as empty as her head. She had never thought of the actual measures it would take to save Alphonse. She would probably have to fight and kill other people, as well as trying to survive and keep him alive. -Listen, let s be realistic. The odds are not in your favor Bianca added with sarcasm You have no fighting or survival skills. You never picked up a weapon, hunted, gathered food, searched for water and shelter, and so on. Simply put, nature is against you.
-That s wonderful she raised her head to say so, your plan is to get myself killed as fast as possible?
-No, but it might get you killed in the first day. You must rely on the supplies given at the cornucopia; there is no way around it. Meaning you must fight like a career. Kill and take the food.
First, butterflies rose in Cosette s stomach. The idea of killing someone was just unthinkable. She liked people, and people usually liked her back. For her it was always been really easy to make friends, and very painful to lose them. She couldn t see herself as someone that harms others with no purpose. But the truth is that she actually had a purpose, and a very strong one. So, the dark and twisted side of her brain started to soak in the idea, rationalizing murder as a decent option.
-I can t force you to do anything. This just my humble experienced advice. All the others that preceded you perished because they weren t furious enough, they didn t wanted it enough. But you have a motivation that goes beyond your own survival. You should harness that. Bianca finished getting up from the table and heading to her room Think about it.
Cosette didn t say a word. She could almost feel the texture of blood on her hands. First fluid, then sticky. Almost smell it. It made her sick. Jons laid his hand on her shoulder and patted it as he also left to his room. She remained quiet, frozen in her seat for a while, listening to the wheels and engines on the moving train. Trying to imagine how they worked relieved her mind for a little while, but a gut feeling was heaving on her mind. The realization that Alphonse might had just, undeliberately, killed her. If he had just stayed put, not volunteering and being brave and all, she would only bear the burden of fighting solely for her own survival. No third parties involved; just twenty three other tributes would stand in her journey back to district 8. She had never felt anything similar in her life. Was she resenting Alphonse? The idea made her anxious. Questioning her dedication for the little boy was a little more than she could handle. It was half past three in the morning and her thoughts were consuming her soul, so, she felt like there was no other option but to confront him. Step by step, slowly and quietly, she picked at every door trying to find Al s room, but in the first half dozen there were only snoring stewardesses in sight. Until, through a door she could finally see his little eyes, shimmering in the dark. Face covered to the nose, completely wrapped in the blankets, like a cocoon. Cosette knew that look. He was terrified. -Hi she said softly, sitting next to him you were supposed to be a sleep weren t you little fellow? But I m actually glad you are awake - she had trouble continuing her speech, because the believing, even if for a split second, that Al planed on killing her was just too painful may I ask you something?
-Yes he answered with a tremble voice beneath the sheets But only if I get to ask you something first: Have I done anything wrong?
- I m not sure Al looking away, too embraced to face him Please tell me the real reason why you volunteered. I m not your teacher or Jonhs; there is no wrong answer, just the truth.
He fully uncovered his head, looking slightly confused. He had already answered that question. Well, twice. With two different answers. The weather turned: from the bright full moon in the outskirts of 8, to a dark and cloudy night, that was quickly turning in to a violent storm. The wind shook the trees outside heavily and it started to rain.
-I told you already. Wherever you go, I ll follow. His hand seeked hers, and lit by his touch, she looked back at him your answer as the real one then Al climbed to Cosette s lap and laid his head on her shoulder. I cannot live without my real mommy.
Without second thought, she held him, hugging him closer to her chest. Tears of joy ran through her face. What just happened there was wrong, in a million different levels, but at least for a while, she decided to embrace the moment. There would be plenty of time to clarify parenthood issues, but not now. The bond that united them was stronger that the heroes from his storybooks, that the power that electrified the fences in 8, than the machines that gave her a purpose. It was much more than all of those combined. Then she realized what she had always known: dying for Al was the sweetest of sacrifices
-You shouldn t be here master, it s too cold for your health condition she pulled his white hair from his wrinkly forehead. He looked as funky as usual: big tangled white hair pulled back by a huge pair of welding goggles, and his signature red jumpsuit, so dirty at places that some might wonder it had ever been washed. -I had to. There was no way I would let you go like this. I don t want your last memory of me, and my last memory of you, to be you force feeding me soup!
-It was for your own good! You heard de doctor, right? Hot drinks, chicken soup and bed rest.
-Honey, in my condition I might as well run naked and drink until I drop he pointed out Maybe we should race. Let s see who gets to die first!
Muffin Man covered Alphonse s ears at this point and Bianca crossed her arms waiting for the development of such a weird conversation.
-Who told you I m planning on dying?
-Come on, do you think I believe you are not going to sacrifice for the kid? I can read you like a book, and you are a very predictable book Cosette. He smirked Ah, now that s the look! The angry face. That s the last thing I want you to share with me. When you pull out that face it reminds me why I chose you as an apprentice in the first place!
They could not help but laugh. It was their style, sort of a modus operandi. They were a great team because they accepted to learn both from each other, and from their mistakes. They hugged one another, actually wondering who would win the bet.
-Red does look great on you. Matches the color of your eyes he added with a playful tone, and he walked the opposite direction, never looking back.
That was the man she most admired in the world. He shared every relevant piece of knowledge she possessed at the date. Looking at Bianca s distant expression, she could not help but wishing that he was their mentor.
The group stepped in to their carriage where a richly garnished dinner table waited for them. All types of deliciously smelling dishes sited on the table awaiting them. It didn t took half a second for the Williams to sit down and start shoving everything at sight in their mouths. The flavors felt like a dance in their tongues, and Cosette was especially delighted with a fine place of various vegetables, seasoned with colorful toppings. Alphonse had just stuck a whole chicken leg in his mouth, when he almost spat it out, in shock. Muffin Man was removing his fat! Or it looked like so. Cosette stopped a spoon half way to her mouth when she saw him remove the padding on his belly, some fake prosthetics of his face and his also, obviously fake moustache. The last one was the only part they thought was unnatural. Jon Jonhs finally revealed his true face: a skinny young man, in its late 20, with high cheek bones and his hair shaved on the left. The remaining fell to the right side of his face, in a deep blue wave.
-Oh shit no! Who are you? Cosette asked dropping her spoon, and silently apologizing to Alphonse for cussing. -I m Jon Jonhs, but definitely Muffin Man. He is just a character I pull off in your district, so to remain anonymous on my own.
-Why would you do that? she continued asking, but her and Al were the only ones who seemed astonished by his transformation. Bianca, like always, bushed her short raven hair backwards, and it was clearly visible that she didn t give a damn about him.
-I enjoy my current occupation, but my deepest dream it to be a main stylist at the Hunger Games. So, I m starting low, as an assistant to your future stylist. And you must he accentuated the must part keep this a secret.
-Your double life?
-Yes, my double life. And you should know about double lives - he added.
This remark made Cosette silent, and it finally gave space for Bianca to intervene in the conversation.
-I believe it s past bed time for Al. something in her dark eyes revealed that she had something to share, and that that something was not meant for Alphonse s ears. She laid her head on both her hands, finally taking a good look at both tributes. A long tribal style tattoo stretched from the top of her shoulders to her back. Another one, an arrow, was placed on the inside of her left forearm. On her nose, a ring; another two, larger ones, dangled from her left ear. Rumors circulated on 8 about her appearance, and all of them seemed to be truth. Cosette was actually exited to meet her. She was elusive enough to be mysterious, but at the same time, a public figure. She grabbed her nephew by the hand, and a helpful waitress escorted them to his room. After tucking him in, she came back to the table, to see Jons and Bianca in opposite sides, facing the other way. This made her feel uncomfortable, but still she sat there and tried to munch on some carrots. It took an unusual amount of time for Bianca to break the silence. She was not much of a talkative person, Cosette figured.
-So, what is your plan?
-My plan? The question made her uneasy am I supposed to have one?
-Yeah, you have she gave a dry laugh and proceeded I see your point of view. Most tributes have a 1 in 23 chance to get out alive. Yours resembles zero. Still, if you wish to save the child you must come with a plan and stick to it!
It took a while for Cosette to answer with a hopeless sigh I have absolutely no idea what to do.
She then proceeded to gaze at her plate. It was as empty as her head. She had never thought of the actual measures it would take to save Alphonse. She would probably have to fight and kill other people, as well as trying to survive and keep him alive. -Listen, let s be realistic. The odds are not in your favor Bianca added with sarcasm You have no fighting or survival skills. You never picked up a weapon, hunted, gathered food, searched for water and shelter, and so on. Simply put, nature is against you.
-That s wonderful she raised her head to say so, your plan is to get myself killed as fast as possible?
-No, but it might get you killed in the first day. You must rely on the supplies given at the cornucopia; there is no way around it. Meaning you must fight like a career. Kill and take the food.
First, butterflies rose in Cosette s stomach. The idea of killing someone was just unthinkable. She liked people, and people usually liked her back. For her it was always been really easy to make friends, and very painful to lose them. She couldn t see herself as someone that harms others with no purpose. But the truth is that she actually had a purpose, and a very strong one. So, the dark and twisted side of her brain started to soak in the idea, rationalizing murder as a decent option.
-I can t force you to do anything. This just my humble experienced advice. All the others that preceded you perished because they weren t furious enough, they didn t wanted it enough. But you have a motivation that goes beyond your own survival. You should harness that. Bianca finished getting up from the table and heading to her room Think about it.
Cosette didn t say a word. She could almost feel the texture of blood on her hands. First fluid, then sticky. Almost smell it. It made her sick. Jons laid his hand on her shoulder and patted it as he also left to his room. She remained quiet, frozen in her seat for a while, listening to the wheels and engines on the moving train. Trying to imagine how they worked relieved her mind for a little while, but a gut feeling was heaving on her mind. The realization that Alphonse might had just, undeliberately, killed her. If he had just stayed put, not volunteering and being brave and all, she would only bear the burden of fighting solely for her own survival. No third parties involved; just twenty three other tributes would stand in her journey back to district 8. She had never felt anything similar in her life. Was she resenting Alphonse? The idea made her anxious. Questioning her dedication for the little boy was a little more than she could handle. It was half past three in the morning and her thoughts were consuming her soul, so, she felt like there was no other option but to confront him. Step by step, slowly and quietly, she picked at every door trying to find Al s room, but in the first half dozen there were only snoring stewardesses in sight. Until, through a door she could finally see his little eyes, shimmering in the dark. Face covered to the nose, completely wrapped in the blankets, like a cocoon. Cosette knew that look. He was terrified. -Hi she said softly, sitting next to him you were supposed to be a sleep weren t you little fellow? But I m actually glad you are awake - she had trouble continuing her speech, because the believing, even if for a split second, that Al planed on killing her was just too painful may I ask you something?
-Yes he answered with a tremble voice beneath the sheets But only if I get to ask you something first: Have I done anything wrong?
- I m not sure Al looking away, too embraced to face him Please tell me the real reason why you volunteered. I m not your teacher or Jonhs; there is no wrong answer, just the truth.
He fully uncovered his head, looking slightly confused. He had already answered that question. Well, twice. With two different answers. The weather turned: from the bright full moon in the outskirts of 8, to a dark and cloudy night, that was quickly turning in to a violent storm. The wind shook the trees outside heavily and it started to rain.
-I told you already. Wherever you go, I ll follow. His hand seeked hers, and lit by his touch, she looked back at him your answer as the real one then Al climbed to Cosette s lap and laid his head on her shoulder. I cannot live without my real mommy.
Without second thought, she held him, hugging him closer to her chest. Tears of joy ran through her face. What just happened there was wrong, in a million different levels, but at least for a while, she decided to embrace the moment. There would be plenty of time to clarify parenthood issues, but not now. The bond that united them was stronger that the heroes from his storybooks, that the power that electrified the fences in 8, than the machines that gave her a purpose. It was much more than all of those combined. Then she realized what she had always known: dying for Al was the sweetest of sacrifices