Pyrrha went straight to her room after they boarded the train. The travel from Seven to the Capitol was not a far distance, her father often times was only gone for a day before coming back. The escort chimed about dinner being in a few hours, a sneak peek into the exquisite dining that the Capitol had to offer.
“Keep this,” Glynda said as she gently ran her fingers on the hair piece that she gave Pyrrha earlier that morning. Pyrrha had taken it from her hair, held it in her hands. A golden ‘v’ shaped thing. Given to her mother from one of the Capitol official’s wives shortly after the end of the war. The materialistic lifestyle that her mother adopted was one of the things that blinded her in feeling nothing whenever the bullet went through Darion’s head.
Darion. Blond hair. Hazel eyes. Bloodied, bruised face. Kneeled where she was standing not even an hour before. The same place he lost his life, she gave away hers. Darion. Darion. Darion. Gone. Gone. Gone. Pyrrha’s hold on the golden ‘v’ tightened, its edges paining her hand. She threw it at the mirror across from her bed, only making marks on the surface. “Pyrrha Rosewood,” she whispered to herself. “Pyrrha Rosewood.”
Walking over to the discarded item on the ground, she picked it up and began to etch something into the wooden surface of the dresser’s top. ‘P-Y-R-R-H-A S-I-L-V-E-I-R-A’. “Darion Silveira.” The name sounded foreign to her tongue. His name was only spoken in toxic tone, ‘traitorous fiend’, never anything about being a brother or being a son. “Pyrrha Silveira,” it tasted sweet in her mouth, a touch of happiness that she remembered. Play sword-fighting with Darion as a child, climbing trees in the midst of night, sneaking out to see him during the war, being welcomed by a tight hug and freedom to be who she really was.
Pyrrha’s hands went to her hair, pulling the pins and tie to let her hair free. It wasn’t very long, only going down above her shoulders. She took the golden ‘v’, the pins and the tie and discarded them in a trash bin. “Pyrrha Silveira.”
Rhea talked continuously throughout dinner, commenting on the food and telling the two about the Capitol. “Pyrrha, you took your hair down,” Rhea said, stopping whatever she had been talking about—Pyrrha toned her out as she had done for her parents. “Yes, ma’am, I did.” The woman continued on, toned out once again, Pyrrha mused to herself. Despite her urges to be who she wanted to be, it would be interesting to see how easy it was to fool others. The longer she could play off the ‘honor’ to the family name and to the district, the better chance she had of surviving.
“Oh, look, there’s the Capitol!” Rhea chimed as she pointed out the window. In the distance the lights of the buildings polluted the sky. The ‘Pyrrha Rosewood’ mask would have to remain on for the time being.
Colborn stepped onto the train at about midnight, almost blinded by the fluorescent lights. He had grown up used to mostly natural lighting and this sort of light burned his eyes. Squinting for the first minute or so, he could still see the detailed carving on the legs of the mahogany side table next to him. Pyrrha followed into the car behind him. He heard her curse under her breath. Rhea led them through another car, filled with luxurious couches and lounge chairs. The next, two long tables on opposite sides, filled with large platters of every type of food one could think of. The last car, had two full sized beds. “It will be about a seven hour ride to the Capitol. If you wish to rest up a bit before arrival, you may do so in here.” Rhea walked over to one of the beds and straightened out the corner of the comforter and smiled, somehow seeming proud of herself.
She left Colborn and Pyrrha alone after that. Maybe ten minutes later, they began to move. Colborn went and sat down in the couch car. Pyrrha followed, talking about the Games. She had told him about why she volunteered, and how ready she was to bring honor to her family. Colborn, half listening, wondered if the other tributes would be talking about the Games. Saying anything about wanting to succeed would make one assume that this person sitting next to them is meaning that they would kill them the very second they could. Colborn started to grow angry. He wondered why someone could possibly think that they could beat him hand-to-hand.
Pyrrha took a hint and stopped trying to talk to him. She grabbed a magazine she found on the table next to them. Colborn stood and grabbed a plate of food from the next car, and then headed to the bed room. He ate slowly, listening to the wind outside as the train sped by. He thought about the other tributes, and what kind of challenges they might bring. He thought about how he would kill each one. It became a game, thinking of twenty three different ways to do it. An hour passed before his thoughts were interrupted by Rhea. She had come to check on Colborn, to see if he needed anything. He gave her a very pleasant smile and assured her that he was perfectly alright.
Pyrrha eventually came into the bed room to take a nap. She slept facing the wall. her back to Colborn. Colborn stared at her for a minute. Watching her back rise and fall. Thinking about how easy it will be to kill her very soon. Her family will mourn, and hate him, and he will laugh.
A few hours pass, Colborn watched the scenery outside. They passed through empty fields, over large lakes, through other towns in other districts. Places he had never seen or even knew existed. It was truly beautiful. The sun had begun to rise, the darkness slowly turning light. He considered waking Pyrrha, but with his luck, she would try talking to him again, and that didn’t sound too appealing.
Rhea knocked twice on the door before entering, waking Pyrrha. “We’re here!! Come, come! Everyone is waiting to see you! Remember to smile, you are our guests!” Colborn and Pyrrha glanced at each other in a sort of sarcastic way. They could hear the cheering before the doors even opened. Colborn inhaled and puffed out his chest a bit, and stepped off the train, his fellow district tribute following close behind.
“Sit tight Ry, we’re gonna fix this mess. No way in hell are they putting my little girl in an arena. YOU HEAR ME?! I DON’T CARE IF I HAVE TO TAKE IT TO THE PRESIDENT HIMSELF!” Rycelle’s father continued to scream as his daughter disappeared into the open door of the awaiting train.
Outside the train, Rycelle’s mother had her head buried in her father’s chest as he continued to berate whichever Captiol official had the unfortunate luck to be posted at the train station. Eyes glued to the window, this was the scene Rycelle was left with as the train began it’s journey towards her death. This was the last time she would get to see her parents.
Even after she long couldn't see her parents anymore, Rycelle kept herself pressed against the window. She knew there was no way she could see them but she was beyond reason and rationality, anything she could do to get one last glimpse of them.
Only once her breath had fogged up the glass to the point where she couldn't see anything did she turn away from the window, teary eyed and with a lump in her throat. Her district partner had long since left to find his own compartment, leaving her alone with their escort and an avox who was standing at attention. Dionysus had made himself comfortable on a leather couch, his attention firmly on the tablet he was clutching in his hands.
“You look like a bloody mess, girl.” He spoke calmly, barely looking up from his tablet. “There’s no way I’ll have a tribute of mine arriving in the Capitol like their favourite dog just died.” Rycelle stymied a sob, not used to being spoken to like she was. “Now hurry off to your room and clean up before dinner. Go on, he’ll take you there.” His eyes averted back to whatever it was he was watching, he shooed the girl off with a sweep of his hand.
Rycelle froze for a moment, gently crying and unsure of what to do next. A light tap on her shoulder made her jump with a start but it was only the avox, gesturing towards the compartment behind them. She followed after him, eyes trailing the floor as if she were ashamed to even let him see her cry.
It only took a minute before the avox stopped in the middle of a hallway and pointed towards a closed door.
“Thank you.” Rycelle said quietly as she stopped to pull open the door. She looked into the man’s face, he was young, probably no older than twenty-five, and had a soft, heart shaped face. The two stood looking at each other for a moment before the avox reached his hand out towards her. He stopped, quickly looking around to see if anyone else was watching before brushing a stray tear from Rycelle’s cheek. She blinked up at him as he smiled a sad smile, then gestured into the room and turned his back on the girl.
Even after the door closed Rycelle stood still. Curiosity had overcome her sadness temporarily as she wondered how someone as seemingly kind as that avox had come to be here.
The moment Rycelle sat down on her bed, the weight of the day’s events seemed to pull her eyelids down over her eyes. Before she knew it, she was out, and when she woke the Capitol was appearing just over the horizon.
As Aracelia was ushered onto the train (if only they spent as much money on taking care of each district as they did on these trains everyone would be much better off), she took a closer look at Sebastian. From afar, she only saw his muscular frame and messy brown hair, but now, up close and sitting across the car from him, she could see his soft brown eyes, his full lips, how soft his dark hair was. There were dark purple circles under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept in a while, but they were still beautiful. Maybe she could use this to her advantage.
Aracelia knew she was beautiful, she’d had so many offers made by boys and so many girls had muttered behind closed doors how pretty she was and why was she taking the eyes of all the boys in district 5? Aracelia just...wasn’t interested, but she was interested in knowing that she was thought of as one of the prettiest girls in the district. She kept the knowledge in the back of her mind; it would be useful one day, she told herself.
So here she was now, sitting across from this man who couldn’t be older than, what, 22? when an idea came to mind. Seduce him. It would do well to have someone with wealth and influence as an ally, and it certainly didn’t hurt that he was rather attractive. Aracelia stood up from the fancy chair she had thrown herself into when she had been showed into this compartment (the chair was so squishy and soft) and moved around the table that was placed in the center to the grey couch where Sebastian was sitting with his head in his hands. She sat herself down with just the right mixture of grace and boredom.
“So, Sebastian, tell me a little bit about yourself. How did a boy as cute as you have the misfortune of being sent out here?”
“Cute, huh?” Sebastian lifted his head out of his hands and smirked slightly. He paused, collecting his thoughts, deciding how much he should tell her. “My mom. She’s doing this as a favor to the president, and she decided I was the best candidate from our family. Wasn’t exactly my choice.” He sighed quietly, barely noticeable.
“Ok, well, since we’re gonna be seeing a lot of each other, we should probably get acquainted. As much as I’d like to pretend I’m scared, I’m not. I’ve been waiting for this day, to get my chance to come to the capitol. It can’t hurt to have a friend while I’m there and it doesn’t look like whatever punk got chosen next to me is gonna be much help.”
Sebastian quirked an eyebrow at her. “What do you want to know?”
“Just tell me about yourself. Why you are the way you are. We have a couple hours, right?”
As they sat there talking and half watching whatever stupid show was on the TV screen that sat on the wall across from them, Celia slowly inched closer to him so her leg was nearly touching his; she watched his lips as he spoke, biting her own and playing with her blonde hair gently. These were the kind of cues that usually made boys in district 5 want to do things for her, and Sebastian wasn’t any different. He swallowed visibly as his cheeks heated up. Aracelia smiled gently to herself, it had worked, he liked her more than just some tribute he had to watch over and now he was useful to her.
He shot up out of his seat and walked over to the table in the middle of the car they were in and poured himself a glass of...something. Aracelia couldn’t tell. Probably alcohol. She didn’t understand why people felt the need to drink it, this substance that altered your reality and ruined other people’s lives but didn’t affect you at all. So what if you have a little headache and throw up once or twice, someone else is dead her mind screamed at her, and she wanted to scream right there. She wanted to scream at her mind to stop.
Suddenly everything was too confusing and her thoughts were racing; it was too much for her to keep pretending she was ok. Her breath was coming too fast and she swiped angrily at the tears that she knew were falling from her eyes but it was too late; she could feel the panic attack coming on, and this time James wasn’t here to stop it.
Sebastian quickly came to her side, “it’s 10 minutes before we’re gonna be at the capitol, Jesus, I can’t let this be their first impression of you what do I do?” and he vaguely remembered something that somebody might have told him at a party a while ago, (“when somebody’s having a panic attack you’re supposed to help slow their breathing or shock them out of it or something”) and without thinking he kissed her. He took her face in his hands and kissed her and she. stopped breathing but then she kissed back and they could both taste her tears but her breathing was calm and he pulled back, “i’m so sorry i shouldn’t have done that.” but her eyes were blown wide and this was something she hadn’t planned on but somehow it fit into her plan perfectly. (And though she didn’t want to admit it to herself, it had been a pretty good kiss.)
She got up shakily, she had to clean her face and put her mascara back on. Looking at the other attendants on the train she said (with more conviction than they thought possible) no one, do you understand, n o o n e could know she had panicked but somebody had to let it out and the whole train knew what had happened in that compartment. Nothing stayed secret in the capitol for long.
Goodbyes had been uneventful except for recieving the word that nobody was coming to see him so he might as well head to the station early. The moving to the station early was fine by Siavash, it was the uncertainty as to whether his family were still alive and living in District 10 that irked him. Some people would tell him that no news was good news but Siavash didn’t operate like that, he wanted answers rather than more questions.
The journey through the Justice Building took Siavash past the room where his District Partner was obviously being held, the wails of women pouring through the wooden door and out into the foyer, it was obvious that someone inside was distraught and that’s when Siavash decided he didn’t want anything to do with the messy girl from his district.
Of course the first person that was there to greet Siavash as the door closed behind him was Iago, who simply stood leaning against a counter laden with food - as was done regularly in the Capitol - his red hair seemed unshaken by the events of the day as he watched Siavash with bright eyes. With three paces Iago had closed the gap between them and thrown his arms around the unsuspecting Siavash.
“Thank Heavens I have at least one interesting tribute.” He whispered. “The girl is a write off, I’m calling it now.”
As quickly as the escort stepped into Siavash he’d broken away again and was beckoning for the boy to follow him through the train and into another cart. As they moved past where they would spend the night, a small office of Peacekeepers and kitchen cart, Iago explained how he’d seen Siavash before once or twice lurking in the hotels that he owned. Of course the boy from 10 didn’t respond in any way other than a polite nod as the escort simply continued through the carriages, eventually they reached the destination which appeared to be some kind of cinema or viewing room. At one end was a screen that fell from ceiling to floor leaving only a small amount of space below and beside where they’d entered there were more trolleys filled with metal domes yet to reveal the food beneath them.
”Help yourself to the food then come and join me.” Iago called from the sofa that he was lounging on.
Following the instructions quickly the newly Reaped tribute carried a plate of hot rice and chicken in a sticky sweet sauce over to where the Escort lay, sitting at the end of the sofa where Iago’s feet where. The Escort moved with a start, pulling his legs away from the tribute with anger and humour on his face.
“Not the same sofa, I’m not one of your tricks Estrada.” He instructed causing the boy to move quickly to another position. It wasn’t like Siavash to be bashful and shy but he knew how the games worked, Escorts were the lifeline to the outside worlds and Iago was that lifeline, Siavash would do anything he could to try not pissing him off. The screen at the end of the room buzzed to life and the seal of the Capitol spun as Siavash ate the food he’d gotten for himself, and then went back for another plate of the same thing. He knew what he liked and most of the time he stuck to it. After his second helping and very little conversation from the Escort that seemed to be falling asleep as they both waited for something to happen, the boy from District 10 returned to the carts and moved to the rest of the domes, lifting each to reveal what was underneath. Although he’d eaten more than enough, the chocolate cake that was second to last looked more than too good to be true and he cut himself a piece that he knew would be too much, as he placed the sharp knife back on the plate it came from fanfare filled the room making both men physically jump and Siavash to instinctively reach back for the knife until he realized that the viewings of the Reapings had already begun, in the Capitol people would be clamoring for the first viewing of their tributes.
The President appeared first, his long face unreadable as he sold the honour of the games to a country that didn’t - and probably never would - believe it. After his address the Reapings began. Here would be the 22 other people that Siavash would be trying to kill and that would be trying their damned hardest to kill too.
District One was, as always the first, the District that radiated beauty and ferocity in equal measure and as the names were called out Siavash could see that their tributes had both by the bucket load. The screen froze as Iago played with controls on a remote. The escort explained that it was a good idea to get to know the other tributes, even from first impressions.
“Shouldn’t we wait for that girl?” Siavash asked the redhead, feeling a little guilty that he’d forgotten her name already, Mary something? Mary Lamb?
“I told you she’s a write off.” Iago sneered back, obviously he didn’t like to be questioned. Siavash noted that. “So the boy,” the video skipped backwards to him in the crowd, pleading with the people around him and even offering oral. Typical class clown but someone that he’d either get on with or clash with, didn’t hurt that Ithuriel was attractive too. One of the rules of the game that Siavash had been trained in was never let them see you beg. “Be careful of his laughter, he could be disarming you on purpose. The girl.” Again the video blurred to Venus taking to the stage and leaving again, only to be returned. “She’ll go down a storm in the Capitol, that attitude and that body.” It was obvious that Iago was practically salivating over the female tribute, not that Siavash minded, he could see her beauty too but also her arrogance. He didn’t care for it, but she would be a necessary evil if it came to finding allies, especially if she was talented in more than just dramatics.
The pair from two were interesting and to anyone that was watching the Reapings it was clear that the girl had problems with her hearing and the boy was her support network. There was a story there and Siavash found himself intrigued. Even before Iago froze the picture Siavash had worked all of this out and relayed it to the escort who simply nodded in agreement and added. “Just be careful if you decide to get in with them, they come as a pair.” Siavash watched the interaction between them and knew that the girl would have had to face hardships with her disability and her story would be one that the boy from ten would want to know if he got the chance, the boy seemed like he was a protector as well as a friend, maybe more, through a TV screen, Siavash couldn’t tell.
District 3 was the first younger tribute, something that Siavash had been dreading. As Rycelle took to the stage he could see that it was as though she’d been hit by lightning, the boy on the other hand was handsome as he was unresponsive to the news. Siavash turned to Iago who was already watching him, anticipating his input.
“I don’t like that I can’t make a guess at what he’s thinking, Rycelle will either crumble or surprise everyone. Part of me hopes that it’s the latter and I don’t have to deal with her.” He explained, “I mean, someone in the Capitol will probably have a soft spot for a younger tribute and he’s got the looks but if he’s not got anything else to back it up then I don’t see them going for it.”
“You’re looking at things from a Capitol prespective, which is good for obvious reasons but don’t for a second think you’re better than any of these people. They’re out to kill you and no amount of tricks you have out there are going to rescue you from that.” The words sounded like a threat more than anything but it was advice that Siavash would have to take as he came into it, he was eating the cake automatically by the fork full as he watched the Reapings roll into District.
The first thing that Siavash noticed about the female was that the air around her seemed to be filled with things that weren’t there. As the pair watched the screen infront of them Iago stifled a laugh. Siavash couldn’t tell what was wrong with Aisha as she eventually made it to the stage, her eyes alive and wild with - something. Neither of the men made a comment and the clip continued to roll until the male tribute from District 4 approached the stage.
“He’d get it.” Siavash whispered to himself as Aquarius looked stern and defiant, his jaw set against the fate that had been thrown at him. Something boiled in the boy and the sheer pressure of hundreds of people didn’t crack the surface, it showed that he was steel, something that Siavash would appreciate in an ally.
District 5 produced one of the most human responses to the games as Aracelia took to the stage after almost falling into the arms of a boy near her. She appeared to be physically trembling against the eyes that were staring her down, the boy next to her bit his lip in response to his name being called.
”Write offs.” Iago commented, but Siavash had decided already that everyone would get a fair chance, if he got the opportunity. He could see the similarities between Aracelia and his District Partner then, who had reacted outwardly to her name being reaped, her tears rolling down her face. Whilst Aracelia was composing herself a little better even though she obviously wasn’t afraid to show her feelings towards the sudden news of her possible imminent demise.
The first real surprises came from District Six as the girl took to the stage all feared at what had happened as the boy took his opportunity to turn his tail and leave the area where the potential tributes were all penned in. Both of them were certainly catching the attention of someone out there and of course she wasn’t done with simply being a scared tribute, she fainted too. If that was to do with pressure, then she wouldn’t be great in the Arena. Siavash watched the girl bounce off the stage and sucked his breath in through his teeth just as Iago let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. Siavash turned to the escort as he turned his back to the screen to tuck into the food, the boy from 10 watched him go and missed the male being reaped completely. Iago noticed Siavash’s sudden interest in him and pointed to the screen just as the lumber district flashed onto the screen and the female tribute already on stage. The boy followed with a strange glee, obviously some kind of Capitol sympathizer. It was only when the reaping was over and half of the entourage from that district were inside of the justice building that something distinctly interesting happened. The girl stood in the grasp of the mayor, their interaction not caught by the Capitol microphones now that the official part was over but Siavash caught the glimpse before the camera’s moved on to the next District and the factories of District 8 came into view.
Calliope was as out of it as the girl from District 4 was and her mind being elsewhere seemed to be making her body work overtime as she ran up to the stage. Siavash was already bored of commenting aloud on the physical appearance of the tributes instead watching as they took to the stage but it seemed as though that might be all that the girl had to offer, Noah was handsome too but dead behind the eyes as he approached the stage but that would come with a death sentence. They stood together at the precipice of their own demise and looked like two deer in the headlights of a coming train. Either it was a ploy not to look like they cared or that the news hadn’t sunk in for the pair. They’d hit the ground with a bump when it did but it seemed as though at the very least they’d have each other when it did. The boy from District 10 was taking in each of these tributes, weighing them up, tearing them down and putting them in a list in his mind of who would be useful in helping him to claim victory. He automatically watched the screen for District 9 and watched the two simple tributes get reaped, again he didn’t count them out but the age of the boy made him think back to the girl from 3 again. If they banded together, two younger tributes, then the Capitol would fall for that story and throw money at them in the Arena, that could be dangerous for everyone involved. Popularity could make you a target.
Whilst his own district was on the screen, Siavash returned his plate to where Iago was watching from the back of the room, his leg cocked up with the sole of his shoe against the wooden paneled wall. The girl from his district shook harder than any other tribute and then practically fell her way up the stairs.
”Write off.” Iago whispered next to him as they watched her enter the justice building. He repeated the mantra again as the tributes from District 11 appeared too. As he did a noise reverberated from the escorts pocket, vibrations coming from the cellular device that he brought into the open.
“Oh look, you’ve been mentioned on Deborah’s Gossip Blog and...” The escort broke off in an attempt to stifle a laugh. “She said, and I quote directly. “He’s just as easy as he is easy on the eyes. She has you pinned down already.”
”This coming from a woman that’s been fucked more times than Old British and American Politics in 2016. You know, the beginning of the end of the Old World?”
Iago ignored the jape at the gossip wrangler and pointed towards the screen.
”Last two. I’m surprised you sat through them all, I was bored 8 Districts ago.” He added and observed as the female walked up to the stage and looked out into the crowd all dead eyed and emotionless. That was more dangerous than shell shocked or scared or jubilant. Emotions were the way that you read people from afar and Jo didn’t seem to have anything to go off, the boy was the same and from Poly’s reaction he was going to be eaten up. Definitely someone that had caught the attention of the boy from 10.
“That’s it.” Iago said as soon as the screen turned to black. “Go to bed, 2 carriages back, then meet me in the early morning - 5am - for breakfast to go through your skills.”
Of course breakfast with the escort never happened, Iago never showed and neither did the raggedy girl that was meant to be his ally. Instead Siavash read the news for the morning, the gossip rags that were churning out rumour and fact about the tributes. Siavash had more dirty laundry available to the Capitol of course, not that he ever minded. Whereas he prefered certainty in what he knew, he preferred mystery in what other people knew about him and as they rolled into the Capitol and the crowds began screaming for him and his partner. He knew at the very least, he’d caught their attention. This would be his first opportunity to shine.
I was in a downright awful mood after I had to say goodbye to my little sister and my boyfriend. The damn peacekeepers wouldn’t even let me get a quickie in before hauling Zephyr away. Didn’t they understand? I was a teenager. I had needs. Just because they’re libido dried up years ago didn’t mean mine had to.
Prudes.
I was brought to an area of the train that was clearly meant for casual lounging around and meals. It was definitely extravagant. I wondered if the lower districts received such trains, or if they were given the ones that were on their last limbs before being decommissioned.
My thoughts were interrupted by my district partner charging in like she either had to shit really bad, or someone had her vibrator turned all the way up.
Not that I would know anything about that.
She plopped down in the chair across from me and crossed her arms, seemingly not wanting to talk to anyone.
“So like,” I said anyway. “Is this how you’re gonna be the whole train ride to the Capitol? Because it’s gonna be a long ass two hours if so.”
No response.
“You could at least ask me what my favorite color is. Rude.” I mumbled.
I savored one last deep inhale of the warm and salty air I had breathed in every day for the last eighteen years before the door to the train slammed shut behind me. Jacinta took the lead down the dimly lit hallway until it opened up into a car that looked almost identical to the room in the Justice Building. She went on for some time approving of and critiquing the furnishings. I tuned out the majority of it, my eyes wandering off to the series of windows stretched across the painted walls where I watched my home fade as the train raced along the tracks.
"As much as I do not like to waste time, I can tell you both may need a minute or two to adjust. Why don't I give you a few minutes to break the ice while I go freshen up, hmm? Have to look my best for the cameras if I stand any chance of getting either of you some form of sponsorship, and based on what I've seen so far, you both are going to need all the help you can get. Just be ready to tell me everything and anything about you when I get back." She rose from her chair, "Help yourself to whatever you would like. Personally I recommend the spinach quiche. It is simply to die for."
I rolled my eyes at her choice of wording and stood as soon as the door closed behind her. I paced forward stretching my legs and soaking in the brief reprieve before she waltzed back in and started her interrogation. As I turned back I noticed the girl who was reaped before me was on her feet as well, and for the sake of avoiding a period of awkward silence while the Princess took her sweet ass time,
When my siblings left I felt a single wave of sadness, something welling in my throat, but I quickly swallowed it down and allowed myself to become numb.
The Peacekeepers grabbed me by my arm once again and I let them drag me sullenly to a car, where the girl and I were shoved together on the way to the train station. We remained silent, and soon enough we were taken out of the car and thrown in front of several Capitol cameras on our way into the train. I tried to stand up straight and look directly in front of me as I stepped into the cabin.
It was decadent, as was to be expected, but I rolled my eyes and took a seat in a plush chair, running my hands through my dirty hair and sighing as I looked out the window.
