dnf, but it's hunger games

-four

no goodbyes, no glances back to our families, not a word between me and my parents. the only piece of them i get to keep is the horror in their faces as i'm shoved past. 

just hard, unforgivingly cold hands dragging me harshly through the town square and into the train station. past the silent, frozen statues that i've seen every day of my life, not a word between their tight lips, not a twitch in their hands.

we reach the train station in about 2 minutes. it's a racket of a shack, always creaking in the wind and whistling through the cracks in the boards. nobody ever needs to go here. nobody leaves 11.

except for tributes, like me and Tommy. two unfortunate coincidences, both sentenced to death by the bloody and televised hand of the Capitol. 

what a coincidence. whenever i finally let my guard down and bond with someone, they're given away with me by their side.

the train to the Capitol is already stationed on the tracks. it looks out of place in such a dusty, hot wasteland, to see a cool and sleek Capitol train here. a group of maybe half a dozen peacekeepers shove us through the sliding doors and slam them shut as soon as our feet hit solid ground. i feel a sharp pain in my head where i hit it on the curved wall of the train.

"fuck! no, no, no! don't put me in here! i can't go! i can't, you grimy bastards!" Tommy shrieks, hitting his shoulder against the sleek metal to no avail. i grab his shoulder and pinch his skin, hard. he yelps in pain and stops, turning to face me.

"Tommy, we aren't getting off this train. we're tributes. it's time to go." i mutter slowly. his fierce expression falls to dead hopelessness at my words. i rub my temples, a throbbing pain still remaining.

Tommy says nothing, and instead sinks to the floor in despair. his chest caves as he heaves a heavy, panicked breath, his bright blue eyes flickering around. it's the second time in a week that i've seen him something less than happy or confident. 

"it'll be okay. right, Dream? i'll live. i've got to." he croaks. i tighten my lips and nod, but i'm sure deep down that we both know that neither of us are leaving the arena alive.

"oh my god, do the peacekeepers have no decency these days? one of these years, the fucking door will break down from how hard they slam it." a man's voice says from the next train car over. it's more of a ringing tone, signalling to me that the next few cars are mostly hollow.

me and Tommy share a long, quizzical glance. is that the person who's going to mentor us in the Games? i didn't know there was any victors even alive from District 11. maybe they just sent someone from another district, or someone from the Capitol. or maybe it's some rando that crawled onto the train while it was open and is just talking to himself.

a man with lime-green hair and evergreen glasses comes swooping into the room. he clutches a basket of steaming egg rolls, bread and slices of cheese in his arms. my mouth immediately waters, but he doesn't give any of it to us quite yet.

"oh! oh my god, you two look- well, better than what i'd expected, to be honest." he exclaims, bouncing slightly.

"what did you expect?" Tommy asks, his voice cracking. he eyes the strange man up and down from his spot on the floor.

"hooligans." the man says matter-of-factly.

he reaches out and takes my hand, pulling me up from my position squatting on the ground. he does the same with Tommy, pats down our dress shirts which have since been slightly trampled, and stands back smartly. i feel warm and unfamiliar tingles from where he touches my shirt.

"the name's Charlie. Charlie Slime. and you two are?"

"Tommy. Tommy Simons."

"Dream Johnson, pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Johnson? that's a basic name. you two really are district 11s, yeah?"

"i think it's made up."

"ah." he replies grimly.

he shakes my hand firmly. i notice now that his skin is very lightly tainted green. he wears green circular earrings, too, and has a black and white suit with a pastel green tie. it seems to be a theme of his. i like how weird he is.

"now, you two, i know district 11 has this huge reputation of dying out first, but! i'm going to change that." Charlie states, making big gestures with his hands. he's quite animated for a mentor. Capitol blood, clearly.

"how do you plan on doing that..?" i ask.

"i'll get you nice and cleaned up, and mannered, and then i need two boys from the worst district to be the best charmers."

he never really ends a sentence, does he? it's a little bit of the Capitol accent lilt, where they always sound like they're slightly asking a question.

Tommy nods, his eyes glazed over. i'm pretty sure he became untethered about three minutes ago. he's got a huge rip on his best shirt, right at the collar. i feel bad for the boy.

~~~

i step out of the shower, my skin raw after the hot water destroyed my skin with light bullet-like pelts. my arms and chest are scrubbed clean from the lush, artificial soap. i feel like i shed a layer of filth.

the mat below my feet automatically dries my whole body in about 12 seconds. what the fuck.

it's been about 2 hours since we got on the train, me and Tommy. i don't know how long i've been exploring my room and the multitude of buttons in the bathroom, my bedroom and even along the walls. 

"Dream! dinner!" Tommy squeals from down the hall. i quickly dry my hair with a fluffy towel on the counter and throw on the navy blue shirt in the top drawer of my dresser.

when i come sliding into the main train car, i see Tommy and Charlie already seated and serving themselves around the full table. Charlie looks slightly disgusted at how animalistic Tommy's being, just shoving bread and meat into his mouth with no fork in sight.

"this is more food than i've seen in my entire lifetime." i breathe. i resist pulling a Tommy and just piling my face with food, but i know that i'll feel ill if i go too fast.

Charlie springs up and grabs a plate, carefully placing a frivolous amount of spring rolls, steak, and mashed potatoes before handing it to me. 

i have never been this hungry in my life.

~~~

"it should be illegal to send such young children to such a brutal death."

"stay quiet, Marie, they'll hear you!"

"it's a 12 year old girl! for christ's sake, they're all children!"

i try to drown out both of the women, but it's hard when they're directly beside me. i know who they're talking about. everyone is. 

they all look at me with sympathy when they see me. she looked exactly like me, so it would be hard to not feel bad for me. who knows how long it'll be before she's dead?

i love you, Drista.