The next few hours are a blur.
During the ride to District 11's train station, I realize my hand has been closed around a sharp object that is now cutting into my fingers. Slowly, I open my fist, and lying in my palm is my mother's necklace. This is the first time I've had a good look at it. It is a detailed carving of a flower, made out of gold and painted delicately around the edges. From the bottom petal hangs a thin strand of thread with 2 beads. One green and one blue, and ending with 2 feathers. I know their breed straight away. Mockingjay. Just looking at them fills me up with confidence. Mockingjay. The symbol of the rebellion. I look up to see the entrance of the train station right outside my window.
As soon as I step outside, I am engulfed in cameras. I try to keep my face emotionless, and find it relatively easy to. Alix stepped out from behind me, and I smile at him. He nods at me, and I wait for him to walk next to me. We enter together, the crowd of cameras not far behind.
Showing friendship so early into the games is dangerous, but I refuse to let the Capitol ruin the bond we have. We walk inside, and I peer into a screen above us. Alix and I both look calm, our faces emotionless. I have no plan to win over the crowd, but I better think of one fast.
I step into the train and turn around, the paparazzi in my face again. I give them a small wave, and the cameras eat it up, all clicking and flashing simultaneously. The doors of the train close, shutting off what could be my last glimpse of the only world I have ever known.
Petra, who stepped in after us, guides us down the hallway. I can feel the speed of the train, a light vibration under my feet. I've never been on a train, but I doubt the ones in the district 11 run this smoothly, as though they're riding on paper, or go this fast.
My expression must give away my thoughts, for Petra says,
"These trains can go up to 300 miles an hour, with no turbulence."
I nod, impressed.
We stop outside two doors, one on each side of the hall.
"Rhubarb, this is your room," Petra points to the door on the left, "Alix, yours is on the right. Dinner is in an hour, end compartment. So you might want to smarten yourselves up before then!"
She laughs, and annoying, high-pitched titter, and walks away.
"So," I say to Alix, "here we are."
"Here we are," he replies in his deep, calming voice.
"I guess I'll see you at dinner," I say, opening the door to my room and stepping inside.
He nods, and I close the door.
My first thought as I look around the room is,
If they can afford this in a train, what do the capitol rooms look like?
It is truly spectacular.
One whole wall is dedicated to a curved window, where the landscape outside is a group of blurred colors.
There is a bed, which I collapse on. The sheets feel like silk, and I spend a minute running my hands along it. Just looking at this spotlessly clean room makes me feel dirty.
I undress and step into the shower, snorting with laugher as I remember Petra's laugh. Honestly, have Capitol people ever listened to themselves speak?
Even the shower is impressive. It's filled with buttons that change the temperature of the water, along with the many different types of soap you can use.
I set the water to a comfortable heat, and spend a moment messing with the soap buttons. I allow my shoulders to relax for the first time in ages, relishing the comfort of having a hot shower. Back home, the water is barely warm, and turns ice cold after a minute or so.
I press another button and the water shuts off, replaced by a burst of air that dries my hair in seconds. I step out and look in the closet, wrinkling my nose at the capitol clothes. Bright pinks, blues, and greens that hurt my eyes if I stare at them too long. I wear my reaping dress.
It is a dark green color, with black boots. My mother picked it out for me. She said the green would bring out my eye color. As I look in the mirror, I think she's right. My face has a clean pink glow to it, my blonde hair looking almost gold. My green eyes look brighter then ever.
I brush down my dress, hoping to flatten any wrinkles, and set out of the room.
The walk down the hallway seems steep, and I realize the train must be traveling down a hill. The last compartment is framed by a large door. There is an amazing smell coming from inside, so I take no time walking in.
I'm in a plain room with large windows. In the middle is a long, polished wood table. Alix is already sitting at it, turning his fork in his hand, looking impressed at the shining silver. Petra stands up as soon as she sees me.
"I was just about to come get you, good, good. Sit down, I expect Gregor and Briar will be here any minute," she says.
I sit down next to Alix and inhale deeply. There is the smell of food on the air. I wonder where it is.
Gregor comes a moment later, smiling at me and Alix and sitting at the end of the table. We wait. After at least five minutes Gregor pulls out a stopwatch and sighs.
"I suppose we should start without her."
Petra nods. "Yes, no use waiting any longer."
I sit up straighter, glad our meal won't be over shadowed by Briar, and turn around as a small metal door opens. 2 waiters come out. Both black haired, with round faces and plain expressions.
They place some kind of thick soup at each of us, and walk out of the room without saying a word. They remind me of Alix.
I immediately start eating, my hunger overcoming my manners. The soup is creamy and there has a nutty flavor to it that I recognize being lentils. No food at home has this kind of rich taste. I drain the bowl quickly.
Following the soup comes the main course and dessert. Thick, juicy cuts of steak artistically resting on a bed of roasted vegetables and rice. Cold vanilla ice cream smothered in chocolate syrup and topped with mint leaves.
I haven't eaten this much in one meal my whole life. This could feed me and my parents for a day.
Petra nods approvingly at my appetite.
"Best to enjoy the food while you can. You'll need it in the arena."
I finish eating and lean back in my chair, my dress feeling slightly tight. I realize, for the first time in my life, I'm full.
Gregor takes us to a compartment to watch the reapings of the other districts. This I'm interested in. I want to see what I'm up against. A few people really stand out to me. A tall, well muscled boy from district 6. One of the careers, a girl from district 2. With her lean shape and bright eyes, she seems more like a beauty model then a fighter, but her looks could help her win more sponsor. And a volunteer boy from district 4. He takes the place of a younger girl who shares his bright blue eyes. I bet she is his sister. His confident face as he looks at the camera sends my heart pounding against my chest.
I watch my reaping. I see myself hug my tear stained mother. The peacekeepers dragging me to the stage. My face looks red, but my expression is stiff. I give myself a mental pat on the back. I look like a formidable opponent. On screen, Gregor pulls us off the stage and it switches to district 12.
Two small children. Probably 12 years old. They look skinny and underfed, even more so then the kids in district 11. They don't bother me much, but one thing does. The trainers. I know who they are. Anyone would. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. The leaders of the rebellion. Katniss has a proud, sharp face. Her eyes shine darkly. Anyone trained by her, I should be worried about. Peeta on the other hand, looks kind. His head is topped with light blonde hair. His face is pale, but covered in old burn marks. His hands are covered in flour. I wonder how tough he is. The capitol anthem comes on, and the screen goes dark.
Gregor applauds us.
"Well done, well done. You guys looked excellent up there. It would surprise me if the other tributes aren't marking you as true opponents as we speak."
I smile. Gregor stands up.
"Now, you should both go back into your rooms and get a good rest, we should arrive at the Capitol in the morning."
He leaves the room, and I'm alone with Alix. He looks at me, his dark brown eyes boring into mine. I know we are thinking the same thing. All of the children up there, from the sad, young ones from District 12 to the snarling careers, they all want to kill us. And unless we want to die, we will have to kill them.