The 70th Hunger Games: A Little Love

Chapter Three

Immah sniffles "We're going to miss you too!"

We continue talking, taking a step back from the hug so that Seeah can accurately sign to us. Our final words for departure were spoken with tear brimmed eyes and soft whispers. They told me they would see me again, and they'd be waiting for that day.

I didn't have the heart to tell them I wouldn't be coming back.

The last was the blonde girl that I gave my bread to. She had very little time before my hour was up, and she spoke quickly and softly, her hazel eyes looking at me, red and brimmed with tears.

"Keep on writing"

She was gone as soon as she came, leaving me with a whirlwind of emotions and the salty smell that remained in her knotty blonde hair after all the days working in the ocean.

All of a sudden I was whisked onto the train, my journal in hand, sitting beside a tearful Percy.

Conversation usually comes effortlessly to me. I'm a natural worrier, and with my worries come the inability to keep my mouth closed. But now, sitting on this train, being shipped off to my death, I couldn't find the right words to say.

"Percy," I begin, taking a shallow breath and placing my hand over his,"you're going to be alright. I'm going to protect you as much as I can, okay?"

He looks back at me, nodding glumly before returning his eyes to the crack in the table that they were fixated on previously. "Here, why don't we get some food?" I gesture to the large portions of food towards the front of the train car. There was more food there than we ever have for thanksgiving dinner! After giving up my half of breakfast this morning, I needed a little something extra.

Percy and I approached the food. Where I went right in, grabbing a small bowl which seemed to be full of tomato soup, Percy looked at the food apprehensively.

He worries out loud, his hand hovering over a chicken leg "What if it's poisoned?"

"Don't be silly, they wouldn't do that."

"Why not? They're sending us off to die anyways"

"Don't be foolish, they need you alive until the games. They wouldn't kill you before that!" A man, relatively close to my age, comes into the room, grabs a roll and instantly bites it. He was relatively young, a small smirk on his face and a sparkle in his eye. He must be Finnick O'dair, the guy who won a few years ago. I've never seen him in person, or without makeup. All I've seen of him he's had glowing lights shining on him and capitol ladies swooning at his feet.

I could tell Percy was nervous, his voice was getting higher as if he was trying not to cry. "Here, I'll eat mine first okay, then you'll know it's safe to eat." I grab the soup, a bottle of some sort of mineral water that was a slightly green color, and an apple, and I bring it back to the table we were sitting at before. Over my shoulder, I throw a look at Finnick, which entices him to come sit with us.

He slides into the table next to me, roll and a cup of hot coffee in hand. "Why would you say that?" I question, my eyebrows raised in genuine concern, "can't you tell he's nervous?"

Finnick laughs softly, maybe at my question, or maybe at the way my eyebrows were twisted, I don't know. "Hey I mean, it's the truth! You're too valuable to them. That's why there's so much food in these trains, even for the tributes of districts ten and eleven."

"Is Mr. O'dair bothering you?" an old woman with a voice sweet as the vanilla cakes my mom bakes for our birthday enters the room. I recognize her immediately as Mags, one of the oldest living victors of any district. Behind her come a couple more men, victors of older years I presume, as I don't quite recognize them.