𝒊𝒊𝒊. the train

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★★★


THE DOORS SWISH CLOSED BEHIND Beetee and Wiress as they enter the compartment, and a few moments later, we're moving. I get distracted by the feeling of being on this powerful vehicle, so I don't notice everyone's seated at the table until they're looking at me expectantly.

"Sorry," I mumble, taking a seat. My eyes scan the wide array of food items to choose from, salmon and other meats and biscuits and dips and spreads, not quite knowing where to start. Finally deciding on some crackers covered with a fine layer of melted cheese, I look at the mentors while I munch on the food.

Beetee, a dark-skinned man with thinning hair and kind eyes, smiles warmly at me. "There's no need to apologize, Ivy. You seem like a bright one."

I smile shyly and go back to eating, particularly a leg of turkey with some kind of savory sauce inside. It's delicious.

"Well, I'm glad at least one of you has some manners," interjects Bacchus loudly, pointedly looking at Gavin, who's scarfing down his food and getting a mess everywhere. I feel a surge of protectiveness.

"He's never had a lot to eat before," I defend him. "I just don't have much of an appetite today."

Beetee gently pats my hand, and I feel some kind of fatherly warmth from him, even though he isn't my father and we've barely just met. "I understand. Don't go too fast, alright? It'll upset your stomach."

Bacchus sweeps out of the compartment with a flamboyant huff, claiming he has schedules to organize or somewhat (I'm pretty sure he's just readjusting his makeup), leaving the four of us here, mentors and tributes.

Beetee sighs. "I suppose we should watch the recaps."

He turns on the sleek, flat-screened television on the wall next to the table, and we see District One. I try to pay attention to all of the reapings, not as much for seeing my competitors as for just seeing them as the oppressed children that they are. It saddens me, and I try to imagine what it must be like, living in One, Two, Nine, Twelve. The living conditions. The people. Their families and friends.

As we watch, a few tributes stand out in my head. The tall, dazzlingly gorgeous blonde from One, the giant boy from Two next to his tiny female counterpart. Glimmer, Cato, Clove. Clove, despite her size, has a deadly look in her eye. I shouldn't underestimate her. Or any of them, really.

The reapings continue. I see me and Gavin, just two more kids left to their fates. I'm glad I look somewhat put-together, but I wish I was better at hiding my emotions. Moving on. A girl volunteers in Four, and a small boy is reaped but faces utter silence when their escort asks for volunteers. That's strange, usually Districts One, Two, and Four always have volunteers. The Career Tributes. I just know that I can't see this boy winning the Games, and my heart drops a little.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 ❪ clove kentwell ❫Where stories live. Discover now