Chapter 2

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They locked us in a room with only small barred openings near the ceiling for windows. It was hot and stuffy and made of concrete. It felt like a small jail cell. It was damp, making it humid, moisture seeping through the fractures in the ceiling.

There were two old ratty mattresses on the ground. There were small rips in the fabric and a spring or two sticking out.

"They could at least offer some sort of comfort before we're sent to our deaths." I mumbled, sitting down on one of the mattresses.

Marcus sat down on the mattress adjacent to the one I was sitting on. He stared at me for a few seconds with an unreadable expression on his face. I immediately assumed he was thinking of all the ways he could kill me, hopefully painlessly.

"Seems like you've got the best odds of anyone." I said quietly, trying to make conversation. "I mean, you're the boy from District 2." I added.

He sighed slightly. "Looks that way." He said lowly.

"So..." I trailed off, hoping he'd say something. He didn't. "You're... terrifying." I said.

He looked up at me with gentle, sympathetic eyes. They deeply contrasted his intimidating appearance. "I'm not going to hurt you." He told me.

"What if it ends up just being the two of us?" I asked. "I'd never make it out of that alive."

"I don't think I have it in me to kill someone." He admitted. "Especially someone who's only fifteen." He added.

I paused. He most likely found out from Kyla. They were close in age, it wouldn't have surprised me. Or, more likely, he saw me walk from the fifteen year old girl corral to the stage. That made more sense. "You're eighteen, aren't you?" I asked slowly, though it was a stupid question to ask since I already knew the answer.

"Yeah." He answered. "You're Kyla's little sister, right?"

"Cousin." I corrected instinctively, but felt a bit bad shortly after. "We get mistaken for sisters all the time though." I added quickly. He nodded in understanding, looking down at the ground.

I stayed quiet. The room was silent. I didn't like it, but I guess it was better than too much sound. I was bored and scared. Bored was the worst part of it surprisingly. All I could do was think of all the ways I might meet my demise, or how I might have to kill someone to save my own ass.

"Kyla said you two live with your aunt." He said, probably noticing my anxiety. It was nice to have a conversation, it took my mind off of other things for the moment.

"Yeah." I nodded. "Aunt Juni. I..." I paused, thinking back to the morning. "I didn't get to say goodbye to her." I said solemnly.

Desperately wanting to change the subject, I spoke again. "So, what's your family life like?" I questioned, trying to shift the topic off myself.

"I've got a little brother." He said. "He's fourteen."

"No parents?" I asked hesitantly.

"My mom's still alive." He told me. "And I've got an older brother who also helps."

"Thats nice." I said with a smile.

"You have any siblings?" He asked. My anxiety spiked as the attention was back on me. I slowly shook my head. I had two older sisters before the war.

Before.

"It's just me and Kyla and our aunt now." I said awkwardly, forming my lips into a straight line, hoping he'd caught the message.

"I see." He said softly.

I nodded simply, pressing my back and head against the concrete wall. It was heated, baked by the sun. It was extremely warm in the room. I was sweating heavily, and I saw a light sheen of the same liquid coating Marcus's face.

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