Games || Finnick Odair

The Train

My heart drops. I can't move. Shock seems to stick me in place. I can see my entire future dissolving away. Maybe a little dramatic, but if no-one volunteers for me... A group of four Peacekeepers coming towards me brings me to my senses. They fall in step behind and in front of me, leading me onto the platform. Priscilla beckons with one finger, her silver teeth glinting. I stand next to her. She announces me as the female tribute. She asks for volunteers. In the tense silence that follows, the wind picks up and whistles in my ears. I can feel my world being turned upside-down. The rest of the reaping goes by in a blur. The other tribute is a tall muscular boy called Jake, who volunteers almost immediately. I've never seen him around, probably because he was fishing with his father, like most of the boys. I become aware of my surroundings only once Priscilla ushered us inside, told us that soon we would be saying our goodbyes.

My mother and father come into the room. My mother has tears streaming down her face. She hasn't cried since my brother died. It's all I can do not to cry myself, now. She says nothing, but hugs me tight, and I know that it will be the last time. My father comes over to me. He sits down next to me on a small stool.
"Try to win," he says, squeezing my hand. "I can't lose you too." He's making an effort to stay calm, I note. I appreciate it.
I have a small chance of winning. I can swim. I'm decent with a spear. But pitted against the other tributes- Districts One and Two almost always won. Fighting Jake, I don't stand a chance. He's strong; he's spent the last six years of his life learning to wield spears and tridents, to weave nets. And what can I do? Tie a few knots, maybe throw a spear if I can get my hands on one.
But surely my father knows that I can't win, not really.
I smile weakly.
"I'll try," I swallow hard. "I'll try."

I can't cry. Not even to myself. As I stand at the station waiting to board the train, my eyes are dry. I'm probably still in shock. That's the only reason I can think of that I'm not having a breakdown right where I stand.

Eventually Priscilla comes back from whatever she has been doing, and leads Jake and I onto the train. I find myself inside the richest looking place I have ever seen. Chairs and lounges covered in velvet, glass chandeliers, tables decorated with extravagant offerings of food and wine.
"Sit down, sit down," says Priscilla, hurriedly straightening all the cushions, though they already look straight to me.
"Your mentors will be coming in shortly. Get settled."

Sure enough, in another couple of minutes in comes Finnick, and the woman he had been speaking to, who introduces herself as Jeanine.
"We," says Jeanine precisely, "are your mentors. Pay attention to us, then you might have a shot at winning." She glances each of us up and down.
"Hmff." was all she says. I can't help but feel a little insulted.
She walks across the carriage and sits down in front of Jake, and, soon enough, he starts talking. That leaves me with Finnick. He lounges placidly across from me, and makes no attempt to start a conversation. Good. I'm not really the talking type.

Priscilla re-enters the room.
"Come, come, come! What is this? Make yourself at home."
I realise I'm sitting completely upright in the soft lounge chair, looking straight ahead. Sourly I think, if you hadn't pulled my name out of that bowl, I would be at home.
But I make an effort to relax, and take one of the various pastries that are offered to us. That seems to be Finnick's cue.
"So, what about you, Isabelle? Do you have anything that you're especially good at? Don't say that you can swim. We all can." He makes no indication that he had ever seen me in his life, but I can almost see that stupid smirk on his face. I look pointedly away, and say nothing.
"Come on," he says coaxingly.

"Okay. You really want to know? There's nothing. I'm halfway good with a spear, but if I tried to get one, I'd be killed in a few seconds. And I doubt that knot-tying is in any way going to help me win. Okay? Good."
Tears prick at the backs of my eyes. This won't do. I can't cry, not here, not now. I blink hard. Much better.

Something flashes across his face, but is soon replaced with his customary almost-bored expression. I glance around the train carriage. Jake is talking earnestly to Jeanine. Priscilla is looking in the mirror, straightening her wig. I stand up, pushing the chair back slightly, and storm out, slamming the door. Once it bangs shut, I slump down against it. I have no chance. None at all, I think miserably. I could just step off my plate early, blow myself to bits. It'd be quicker than dying of anything else in the arena. I've almost made up my mind to do just, that but my father's words come to me, and I know that I have to try. Try to win.
I push my hair out of my face and walk back into the carriage, as calmly as I could, though it in no way makes up for my outburst earlier.

Priscilla sniffs, and is probably about to launch into some sort of lecture, when she rushes to the window.
"There it is," she sighs, "the Capitol."
I look out. It was spectacular. Tall buildings, made with marble and gold and glass and countless other things, polished to perfection and shining in the late-afternoon sun.

As the train slows to a stop, I see hundreds, probably thousands, of Capitol citizens, waving, screaming, trying to get a glimpse of us. It's a sea of brightly coloured hair and skin, shining piercings and tattoos. I suddenly feel sick. Is this all they do with their lives? Modify their bodies while waiting for another load of children to die for their entertainment? It seems worse since my days are so numbered, and the thought of wasting them thoughtlessly is horrifying.
"Go on. Smile. They'll love it." As much as I dislike Finnick, he did get sponsors, and that can't have been by sulking in a train carriage. I put on my most charming smile as I look at the crowd. They cheer and wave. I keep it up until the train stops. Exhausted from smiling, I follow the others down onto the platform.

We take an elevator to our quarters in the Tribute Centre. The ride takes under a minute, as being from District 4, we have the fourth floor to ourselves. I go into my room, and before even looking around, fall onto my bed. It's only now that I finally cry.