Hunger Games Writing Compilation

The Train Ride - Kasidee Winters

As soon as Kristyl was taken, my world seemed to be empty of everything. It was just me and the soft couch beneath my hands, rooting me to what remained of my shattering world. Before I could stop it, the tears started. But it wasn't just tears. My whole feeble body was racking with terrible sobs and I was quivering all over. My hands reached to my hair and grabbed the flower Kristyl had given me, holding it lovingly in my hands. Then another bout of tears overcame me and I doubled over with sobs. By the time I managed to gain control of my tears, I had crushed the little flower in my fists. I couldn't help but think that Kristyl would await the same fate as my beautiful flower. The approaching footsteps snapped me back to reality, into the shadowy world that remained. Sadness eclipsed by fear. Like at the reapings. The Peacekeeper strode over to my side and grabbed my arm. I didn't try to fight. I didn't have the energy, and what did it matter? Even if I made it back to my house, I would be publicly executed for my treason. Either that or sent into the Hunger Games for a gruesome death by some muttation. I would rather march into the arena with my head held high, for Kristyl and Mom's sake. The Peacekeeper held both of my wrists and walked me outside. Unfortunately, the area was swarming with cameras, and I knew Kristyl could tell that I had been crying. I shot a glance over to the other tribute, Oliver Thorne, and saw that he looked expressionless. I forced my face to remain neutral, struggling to keep my composure. Once you're on the train you can cry, I told myself. If I cried in front of the camera, all of Panem would see. Not to mention Kristyl or Mom. I forced deep breaths of air into my lungs, trying not to look directly at any cameras. Which was hard since there were so many. After what seemed like ages, the Peacekeeper who was still holding my wrists with an iron grip pushed me into the train. I heard Oliver's heavy footsteps behind me, then the slam of a door. Despite the train car being luxurious, I felt trapped. Especially once the train started moving, there was no way out. I forced myself to take another deep breath and look around. It would do no one any good if I just spent the whole time panicking. The car was large and fancy, with a bar-style countertop in a corner. Behind the counter was a Capitol servant in a chef's outfit. Around the room, there were a variety of different seats. If this is how many resources get spent on a luxury train for five people, what is the Capitol like? Why are the districts starving? I snap out of my thoughts as Oliver looks me up and down and crosses his arms. "You're my ally?" He scoffs.

"No one ever said that district partners have to ally," I said indignantly, crossing my arms and looking up at him. He certainly was intimidating, and I could very much understand why he wouldn't want to ally with a little girl like me. I brought no skillset to the Hunger Games, and I would just be a liability in the arena.

"Yeah, and those tributes always die." He says sharply, then he mutters to himself, "Though it's not like you'll help keep me alive." I'm annoyed with him. He's being rude to me, for no reason. Other than that I'm not a contender in these games. I work up my courage. "Do you think I want to be here? Do you think I want to be stuck here being showered with food while my little sister and mother starve at home?" I take a step closer and glare at him accusingly. "Do you think I want to be sent to my death?" Oliver looks at me for a moment and sighs, though he seems annoyed. I'm already upset enough, so I turn and walk out of the train car. I don't know the layout of the train, so I wander for a while until I find a room that I'm pretty sure is mine. The plaque on the door that said "Kasidee Winters" was a pretty good indication though. As soon as I was alone in my room, I pressed my back into the door, pulled my knees up to my chest, and let my tears flow freely. I tried to keep my sobs quiet, so as not to draw attention to myself. All I could think about was Kristyl and Mom. Kristyl couldn't go get food for the both of them! She wasn't even allowed in the orchards. They were dangerous, even for skilled and experienced people, like Mom. She hurt herself even after working in the trees for years. Kristyl had never had to climb a tree to get food before, let alone in the pitch darkness of the middle of the night. They'd starve without me! More tears poured down my cheeks and I buried my head in my hands. Even though I knew it wasn't my fault, I blamed myself for getting drawn at the reaping. My breath hitches and I jump as someone knocks on the door. "Dinner is served! Come on, to the dinner car!" A voice says. I'm sure it's Vanella, but I really don't want to come out. The prospect of so much food entices me, so I eventually get out and scrub my face with cool water. Then I walk to the dining car. "There are extra clothes for you to change into, you know," Vanella said, already eating her meal. I just shrug and sit down. There's plenty of food, so I help myself. A creamy soup with chicken in it. Thick, greasy rolls with butter and jam. Mashed potatoes with salt and a spice I don't recognize. There's so much food, and I would have eaten all of it if I could hold it. The dinner seems to go on and on for eternity, and when Vanella finally sends Oliver and me off to bed, I feel like I would explode if I tried to eat another bite of food.

The next morning, I woke up before dawn, as usual. On a normal day back in District 11, I would have to put on work clothes and take Kristyl down to the vegetable fields before walking to the orchards. Here in the Capitol though, it didn't seem like anyone worked. I didn't understand how a society could function, or what people would even do all day if they didn't have a job to complete. I decided I would see if there were other clothes to wear because despite my reaping dress being beautiful, it was a bit scratchy. I took it off and hung it nicely on my bedpost. Then I pulled on a warm long-sleeved shirt, a sweater, and a plain skirt. Nothing fancy, but it didn't matter. I would have to wear something ridiculous for the tribute parade anyway. I quietly walked to the dining car and ate some fruit from a bowl. There was a giant television showing replays of the reapings with a voiceover, and I really didn't want to watch. But at the same time, I couldn't force myself to look away. I took in the faces and names of all the people who wanted me dead. It was awful to watch my own reaping, seeing how cowardly I looked next to Oliver. The District 12 reaping was a different story. When the name for the female tribute was called, no one stepped forward. People were talking to the Peacekeepers, and then the reaping continued. Afterwards, it showed a separate clip. A girl with blonde hair stared angrily into the camera. One of the Peacekeepers said, "The female tribute of District 12, Daizee Farsand." The girl's eyes narrowed, then seemed to light up a bit as she had an idea. The next thing I see is the camera toppling to the ground and shattering. I knew very well that if the Capitol thought this was too rebellious on the girl's part, they could remove it from the replays and pretend it never happened. Maybe it was a hit with the Capitol, and they liked the idea of a tribute who would fight back. If that was the case, I had a great reason to be worried I wouldn't get enough sponsors. My mentor was in charge of my sponsorships anyway. Where was my mentor? I hadn't seen anyone other than the servants, Vanella and Oliver. I was in my room for most of the train ride, maybe we just kept missing each other. Just as the thought crossed my mind, I lurched forward slightly. An awful noise of metal on metal came from outside. My first thought was that the train was crashing off the rails. Then I dashed to a window and realized it was just the brakes. We must have been going ridiculously fast. Vanella practically skips into the train car. "There you are! It's almost time for you to meet your stylist! Then you get to go to the parade! Make sure you look nice, this is the Capitol's first impression of you!" No pressure, Kasidee, I thought. But I forced myself to be optimistic. Maybe if I made a good impression, I could get enough sponsors, and I could survive the Hunger Games and get back to Kristyl and Mom. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly because I knew I didn't have a choice. I didn't want to hurt anyone, but I would have to do whatever it took to get back to my home, and my family.