Blight Sayers and Marie Anderson are the only living victors of District Seven. There was three, I think, but she died last year. Not a big deal. She hasn't been a mentor for years and she kept a low profile.
The tribute train is fancier than anything I've ever been in. My quarters are bigger than my house. I order a roll and butter, spread it on and take a big bite.
A knock on my door and a squeaky Capitol accent tells me it's time for dinner. "Dinner time, Johanna!" And I better come down NOW, before my meal gets cold.
When I arrive downstairs, I'm thinking maybe a simple dinner. The largest meal I've ever seen is sitting there. Steak, pudding, soup, fruits & vegetables, everything you can imagine. Even the rolls that I ordered earlier- my favorites.
I pretend to eat when in reality, I'm just stirring my spoon around in my soup. Even with all this food, I don't feel hungry.
"So..." Marie begins, but is cut off by Baily. "Why aren't you children eating! Eat, eat! This may be the only chance you get. After all, you are being sent to die!" She exclaims. "Though the Games are exciting, don't you think?"
Blight, Marie, and Amarack stay quiet, but I slam my hands against the table, push myself up, and punch Baily straight in the face.
I know you aren't supposed to hit girls, but I feel that applies only to guys, and I punched her. Also, she's cheering on guys stabbing, choking, spearing, and shooting girls with arrows.
I walk away from the table, into my room, and slam the door shut. A chill runs through me. I know I'll regret the blow to her face in the morning, but right now I feel satisfied.
Satisfaction is a thing I don't get very often, only on special occasions. Despair is the word that usually overcomes my body.
Suddenly, I'm in the graveyard in District Seven.
I take a in deep breathe and exhale, making small puffs the same white color as the snowflakes falling slowly around me. I clench the flowers tightly and push open the cold metal gate to the graveyard.
Walking down the first aisle, second, making a left, and kneeling down in front of a small stone. My knees turn pale white and I'm shaking, possibly close to getting hypothermia, but I couldn't care less at the moment.
The words Xavier Mason are neatly carved into the stone. My fingers run across it, freezing at the touch, feeling every letter. Running my fingers in a circular motion around the o in Mason.
My dear cousin Xavier, who was only 14, was a victim of a lumber accident. It had been a bright sunny day, a perfect day to chop down trees, and he decided to go with his father. Standing underneath the biggest tree all day, the men didn't see him. The tree was falling, he was screaming, but it was too late.
This boy was one of my best friends- we'd pull pranks on our teachers, tell each other the pranks we pulled solo, everything.
And now here I am, laying blue and white flowers on his grave.
"I love you, Xavier."
I gasp. How do I remember that so perfectly? I pull down the covers and hop into the bed. It's nice, but I like my one at home better. I'd leave her without thinking if they'd let me. But they won't. I may never leave here.
Except maybe in a wooden box.
Somehow, I find sleep, but when I wake up to the knock of the door and Baily's voice quietly telling me it's time for breakfast, I fling open the door before she can leave.
"Baily!" I say, louder than usual, even though she's standing right there. "I'm sorry I punched you. I think I may have some... anger issues I need to attend to."
"Well..." She considers me a moment. "Alright. I understand you are under a lot of stress, being a tribute and all, so I'll forgive you, though I hope you'll do no more bruising to my cheek bone."
"Thanks. Now I guess we'll go to breakfast," I say.
When I arrive for breakfast, Blight, Marie, and Amarack are already there, eating eggs and toast and waffles and pancakes and french toast bagels and everything you can think of to have for breakfast.
I eat waffles, eggs, toast, and am halfway finished my bagel when I have to run to the bathroom and it all comes back up.
Amarack starts the conversation. "So, are we to discuss our strategies?" He asks.
Blight taps the corners of his mouth his napkin, like Capitol people do. "Well, I usually discuss the actual strategies with the tributes when we arrive in the Capitol. But we can talk about what talents you have. Unless you'd like to discuss them in separate."
I glance at Amarack, but he's already watching me. "Shouldn't I just talk to Marie about mine and him talk to you about yours?" I question.
"If that's what you want."
"Okay, Marie, we'll talk in the Capitol," I say, and force myself to smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to my room and mope about how I'm going to die soon."
When I get to my room, I'm only up there for a few minutes when there's a knock at my door.
Who could that be? Possibly Marie, as I think she's the nicest person here. Then Blight. Baily. And lastly, Amarack. I don't want to talk about the Games, though. Because after watching them all my life, seeing the horror in them, I know that I would never want to be in them.
Slowly, I open the door to my room.
I was wrong. It's not Marie. Or Blight. Or even Baily.
Standing in my doorway, a foot away from me, is Amarack Tarral.
