HungerGames72

Chapter twelve

For a while I seem to float in between the real world and dreams, the rhythmic chanting of the train becoming a roaring crowd, or wind rushing through leaves. I don't know how long I stayed there for, in the land of halfway-there.
A gentle voice brings me back down to life.
"Mum?" I whisper. It stings to open my eyes, so I keep them closed.
Mum opens a door. Footsteps.
"Oh, Clementine. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."
Soft hands guide me off the floor. I try to keep my balance blindly.
We walk for a few seconds, then into a room with a cool, refreshing linoleum. My eyes spring open. A room with soft purple walls and floors, and a magnificent bathtub.
The arms help me over to a lavish sink.
The sight of my bloodshot eyes and clammy face gives me a shock.
"W-what happened?"
I see the person that the arms belong to. It isn't mum.
"It's ok, you've just had a bit of a shock." Daya says, dampening a fluffy cloth with cold water. She lightly pats my face with it, and it cools my burning cheeks.
"Thank you." I mumble.
She just smiles.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. And don't worry, I've seen worse reactions." She stops for a second. "Hmm, no. That sounded insensitive. Sorry. Can I get you anything, or do you want to rest?"
The idea of rest sounds wonderful.
"Can I rest, please?" I croak.
Daya takes my arm. "Of course."

She guides me down the corridor, through where we had lunch and where the smell of food still lingers, past some other doors, and into another compartment where the most comfortable bed ever sits right next to a window.
"Now, your bathroom is just behind that door, and if you need anything, just find me. Or Archie, but probably me. I noticed you don't like Cinnamon, but it's best to make an effort with her. If you're in her bad books she could make life hell for you."
"Sounds like you're speaking from personal experience."
Daya laughs harshly, a strangely out-of-character sound for her. "That's a story for another time. Now, go rest." She waves and closes the door behind her. Leaving me with my thoughts.
Her words circle around in my brain. I wonder what happened between her and Cinnamon? But the sight of the bed catches my attention, and I curl up in it, wrapping the soft covers around myself.
I wish I could stay there forever.

After around four or five hours, a sharp knock comes from the door. I wearily wipe the sleep from my eyes, and shuffle over to it.
"The reaping coverage is on TV, just in case you want to watch it." Archimedes says awkwardly, fiddling with his hands.
"Righto."
He seems relieved. Drayton must have put up a fight.
I follow him into another compartment I've never seen before, one with a gigantic sofa and several beanbags scattered around on the floor. I sit down on one with a satisfying 'flumph'.
Archimedes joins Daya and Cinnamon on the sofa, and presses a button. A massive TV emerges from the wall, turns on, and tunes into Caeser Flickman, the Capitol's very own Hunger Games official presenter.
"Is Drayton coming?" I ask, as the theme tune begins to play.
And awkward silence.
"Um, no. I don't think so."
"I'm here." Comes a voice from the doorway. Drayton skulks in, and sits on the floor. He runs his fingers through his dark wavy hair. He may project an image of carelessness, but it seemed to me like he was nervous.
"Would you like a beanba-"
"I'm fine here."
Daya blinks. "Ok then."
Attention turns to the TV as Caeser begins to speak.
"Welcome ladies and gentlemen of Panem, to the annual Hunger Games!"
The audience claps and whoops.
"This year is the seventy-second games! And that means many unforgettable tributes! Lets take a look back at some of our favourites."
A video montage begins to play, and we see children I recognise, like Finnick Odair and his trident skills, and some I don't, like one of the first few winners, a rather colourful girl called Lucy Gray-Baird. The capitol audience cheers and claps when they see their favourites. As the video ends, the focus is brought back to Caesar, who stands next to somebody who I met several months ago.
"And now I stand with our most recent winner, Johanna Mason! How are you feeling about this year's games?"
Johanna grits her teeth. "Wow, Caesar. I am very excited."
"Me too!" He cries, bouncing up and down, his silly green hair flopping around.
Johanna rolls her eyes.
"Now, time for the most exciting part! Where we get to see this year's talent! Bring on the reaping!"
The crowd erupts with excitement, and a new video plays.
I recognise District one, with it's shiny building and high- tech factories. A stage is shown, but unlike the rickety wooden one in ten, it has tall marble pillars and shiny floors, and the crowd seems almost excited.
A tall man, District one's Capitol escort, pulls out a name. "Ruby-"
"I volunteer!" Yells a voice. A tall, burly sixteen year old with flaming red hair runs up to the stage. "I volunteer!"
The man smiles. "Wonderful! So, for District one, we have..." he holds his mic out to the girl,
"Dragon. Dragon Townsend," She smiles and flicks her hair.
"Excellent! Thank you, Dragon. Next up, the boy representing district one is.... Loga-"
Before the man can even finish his sentence, a blonde boy sprints towards him. "Me! I volunteer!"
The man gestures for the boy to join Dragon onstage.
"And you are?"
"Copper Ayers." Copper smiles confidently at the camera, showing off perfectly white teeth.
"Panem, I present to you, District one's tributes for the seventy second hunger games, Dragon Townsend and Copper Ayers!"
The crowd in the capitol explodes in anticipation, already evaluating the tributes.
The video then takes us through to District two, where a dazzling girl named Velvet and a hulking boy called Harlow volunteered. Then three, where two small and quite fragile looking children were chosen. Nobody volunteered. The boy must have only been about twelve, and the girl around fourteen. I made a mental note to team up with them.
District four had one volunteer, a slender girl named Coral,and Tritan, who cried onstage.
District five's tributes weren't volunteers, but they seemed like they'd both have good chances. Andromeda, the girl, had fire behind her eyes, and Mars, the boy, looked like he could knock someone out in a second.
The reaping videos continued, and when it got to District ten, it was even more awful than I remembered. I couldn't believe it was just this morning. It had been such a long and tiresome day.

As soon as the reaping video ends, Archimedes turns the TV off.
"Time for bed m'dears. You've got a long day tomorrow."
After saying goodbyes, everyone heads off to bed.
I burrow down under the covers, the faces of the people I'd have to fight lurking in my head. I saw poor small Oak, from District three, and tall willowy Ophelia from six. Tritan crying on stage, and Kit, the boy from Eleven, yelling to his brothers to look after their grandmother for him.
What did we all do to deserve this?
The rage builds up inside my body, heart beating faster, blood rushing inside my ears.
If they want a show, they're going to get a show.