The Hunger Games

Chapter Two

"We're here!"

I look forward to see where exactly "here" is at. Had I been staring out the window the entire ride? We are parked in front of the train that is going to be taking us to The Capitol. I step out and dust clouds around me. Peeta slides out after me and pushes me to the side slightly.

"Um.." I say quietly, but stop myself. He's much older than me, and I can't figure out the right words to say to him without sounding mean. He gives me a sheepish smile and looks at the train.

"I've never seen anything like this before." He says to Haymitch, who is still trying to find his footing. Haymitch wraps his arm around me and balances himself.

"You look like someone I know," He says. He puts his hand to his chin like he's thinking real hard.

"Primrose, that's who you look like. She's in the Hunger Games." I push his arm off of me and roll my eyes. Peeta pats me on the shoulder. "Don't let him get to you kid." I nod a little too quickly, but roll my eyes in my head. I don't like being called a kid.

"Okay, why don't we get you two inside to your rooms?" Effie says as she comes over to us. She leads us inside the train and tells us how even though we're going in the Hunger Games, we should be thankful for all the delicious meals we're receiving and that we'll have so much fun.

Of course.

I make my way down the hall and into the first room I see. I gently sit down on the raggedy mattress and sigh in relief. The mattress brings me back home to my bed. I think of the nights when I would sneak into my mother's bed when I was too scared to sleep alone. Katniss used to tell me stories of all the terrible things that lived outside the district. Trackerjackers, rabid animals--hunters. I would dream that I was being attacked by all three of them most nights which made me glad I nursed sick things instead of hunting for them. I slide my finger over the cheap mattress and take deep breathes to calm my nerves. Effie comes in and tells me lunch is served. I get up and head into the dining area of the train.

"Bon apetite!" Effie says. I have no idea what that means, but I hope it means eat now, because I'm starving. I cram down the mashed potatoes on my plate. They're so warm and tasty, I can't help but stick my plate out to Effie begging for more. Effie looks at me with a disgusting look on her face and shoos the plate away from her. I slowly set it down and start eating my salad silently. Peeta tries making conversation with Effie about the games, why they were created and if there was any chance they would end soon.

Effie takes in a deep breathe before saying, "The games are not just a punishment to the districts, but a way of reminding the districts that the Capitol was--and is--good to everyone. I doubt that'll end anytime soon." I give out a sigh of relief just as Haymitch stumbles in through the polished arches.

"It's lunch already?" He says in a made up accent. I watch him take a swig of his liquor and fall to the ground laughing. Effie rolls her eyes and before I can help him up, Peeta is there in an instant, telling Haymitch everything's alright, and he has nothing to worry about. Effie smiles brightly and thanks Peeta.

"Maybe you should be a little more considerate, Primrose." She says. I cut my eyes at Peeta and he again smiles sheepishly and looks away.

"Anyone got anything to drink?" Haymitch asks. I hand him a cup of water before Peeta can. Haymitch looks at the water with an upset face, but drinks it anyway. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and then looks at the both of us.

"You're the two tributes? I thought District 12 excelled in mining, not a crappy gene pool."

I fold my arms and scowl at Haymitch. "Now you may be drunk, but I won't stand here and be treated like this. You're supposed to help us with our sponsers and you can't do that when you're drunk all the time!" I yell. Haymitch is taken by surprise and for a moment, I think the drunk look in his eye has vanished. He grins slightly and stands up.

"I stand corrected." He mutters and leaves to the other room.