Yours [Prim/Cato]

Chapter 2 - The Train

Once we get onto the train, Effie directs Peeta and me to our rooms. When we arrive first at Peeta's room, I get a glimpse of it. There was a medium sized window on the left side of the wall with an orange curtain hanging from it. I saw a huge bed as well with a big sign above it that read "Peeta" in curly, black and white letters with a picture of him behind the letters. When did they even get the picture of him? My eyes widened at the sight. I want a picture like that too.

Peeta bid his farewell to me before we saw each other again for dinner, and before I knew it, Effie was pushing me, again, down the hall to a big brown door. When she opened the door, I was amazed.

My room is huge, almost as big as the house my mother, Katniss, and I have back home. It is painted a soft green color with a big bed that had matching sheets. On the side was a dresser that I assumed was full of clothes since I didn't bring any with me. There was a huge white rug in the middle of the room and a bunch of buttons next to the bed that I had no idea how to use. Over my bed was a photo of me with my name in swirly letters, just like Peeta's was, and in the last corner to the right was my personal bathroom. I had never had anything to myself before, especially not a full bathroom. I am pleased with my room, but then I realize why I get the room in the first place.

Well, now I feel stupid.

They were just pampering us to make us feel special before we were gutted. That sudden happiness is ripped from me violently. I think I may be sick. Am I really here?

Effie clears her throat and smiles at me. I was so lost in thought that I forgot she was here. She must think I'm strange. "Alright darling, dinner starts in an hour so be there," Effie says to me. "You can do whatever you want before then! Ta-ta!" And with that, she leaves me alone.

I decide to take a shower to try to wash off all the events of the past hour. I can't believe that so much has happened in such little time.

I was reaped for the Hunger Games. Katniss attempted to volunteer in my place, but I refused the offer. I'm here with a boy who saved my family's life, and I can't do anything to repay him, not even save his. My family and friends were ripped out of my arms, and now I'm on a train in route ready to die at the hands of another child. This was turning out to be a great life... and I'm only 15.

I wonder how I'm going to be killed. Is every other kid here thinking the same thing as I am right now? Maybe they will cut my throat or hit me across the head with a rock. Perhaps they stab me. And what if I get someone who hates me, and they torture me before they kill me? That would surely give everyone a great show.

I need to stop thinking about those things because it makes me sick. I told myself that I wanted to get in the shower. It would be the first one I've ever had. In District 12, we stick to baths because we don't have plumbing like some of the other, more wealthy Districts of this nation. In this Capitol shower, there are so many soaps, fragrances, shampoos, and many other unfamiliar items for me to choose. The vastness of the selection makes it hard for me to decide. I settle with the rose as some odd form of an ode to my name to make myself feel special. I wasn't ready to go full primrose scent yet.

After I get out the shower, I dress in the plainest clothes that I can find in the drawer and slip on some shoes before I walk out for dinner. The clothes were a bit tight on me for my liking. In all honesty, they fit exactly well, but I felt better in my older, looser fitting things. It was fine; at least I had nice clothing for once.

When I get to the dinner table, I find Peeta and Effie, and that's it.

Where's Haymitch? Shouldn't he be here? Who will we have to train us for this? If he's not here, then we're both dead. How are we supposed to know what to do with survival without the person to train us on it? I feel bad for myself for being given such an irresponsible trainer for such a monumental time in my life. Oh whatever, he probably doesn't care about our lives much anyway since he's drunk all the time. He drinks so much that he probably doesn't even care about his own life much.