Midnight Azalea-A Story of the 34th Hunger Games

Chapter 4-Goodbye

Everything in here looks super expensive. Double spiraling stairs lead up to the second floor of the Justice Building, most likely for departure, so I expect we go there. But instead they separate me from Natiel and I go to the left side of this floor into a room with one window and one big sofa of plush velvet and pillows, I sit and sink into the sofa, feeling the most comfort I've ever had sitting on a platform for resting.

A peacekeeper comes in...Lee. He informs me I have an hour to talk with my family, to say goodbye. This brings me to tears but luckily he leaves before I cry.

Soon my family has arrived and they crowd around to hug me. Lenora hugs me first for a while then separates to tell me something...I realize she's crying too. "I'm sorry for what I said at home I didn't mean it I love you." She chokes up. She can barely say her next few words. "I should've volunteered for you."

I never thought of that but it makes me angry. I don't say a word back. Mother hugs me and tells me what I'm good at. "Take notes on the other tributes and find their weaknesses. Okay?"

Father tells me what weapons I can use. "Knives and spears are good. Stay away from arrows and climb trees. Find water and don't go for the Cornucopia."

I think of the openings of past Hunger Games, when the tributes majority died at the Bloodbath. I wonder if I disobey Father I'll die like the rest...then what? My fear overcomes me, and I am forced to say my goodbyes at the last two minutes. I am so emotional once they leave and so vulnerable. I've cried so much I have no more tears to cry for. Except I'm not crying because I'm scared...I'm crying because I don't want my family to see me die. I love them more than anything. I want them to see me return home, but then that makes me think of Natiel's family and what he probably went through emotionally this past hour, and how he's coping now.

When we exit our rooms we go up the stairs, I see Natiel has no puffiness in his eyes, nothing. Just fright.

I can't see why so I become angry. I stomp up the stairs instead of step and blast through the doors to the train instead of kindly open. And stomp up into the glorious train TAHT mocks the appearance of the inside of the Justice Building except beautiful cushions are everywhere, not just in a sofa.

The carpet is made of the finest silk in the Capitol, neatly woven into intersecting patterns of red and gold. The elaborately framed windows with glorious maroon curtains set that aspect of the train apart from the rest. I stand in the District Eleven Cart, and our last stop will be Twelve. I've never been to Twelve, but my father says it's the poorest district, so I don't really expect much from the place.

Natiel heads off to the back of our cart. Cashatra says we have to meet our mentor first who will give us life out there in the Games.

"Well then," I say quietly.

"You don't have to speak quietly just because you're on a train that's worth more than your life," Cashatra exclaims. "Especially once your mentor gets here. Um...yes once your mentor arrives." She stares at her watch. Natiel comes back from using the restroom. I sure hope there are separate ones. "Quorel should be here."

Quorel? I remember him.

That day seven years ago. I was eleven. He was working in the tree next to my father. It was take your child to work day, and I proudly watched my father climb his tree with no ladder, reached for a golden apple. He plucked it with sure use of a blade, and the apple severing itself from the leaf via the blade made a clicking sound. Quorel was sixteen then, and he was reaped that year.

I watched him win. He was the last one against the girl from District Three. She readied an arrow and fired, piercing his ribs. He threw a mini axe, only one and she dodged readying another arrow. He got up and rammed her into a tree, knocking the wind from her. She tossed him to the side and fired again, this time into his leg. He stumbled and fell, then axed through her thigh. He then ran away and her cannon fires two days later. Imagine the pain he must've endured those two frightful days.