The Chamber [Sequel to Silence]

9

The journey to the station was awkward to say the least. In front of me sat Marcia, her huge blonde hairdo filling the space in front of me and tickling my nose. I was squashed between a still wailing Riley and the male tribute, who I'd found out was called Otto, a rather big shouldered boy who took up half the car. He said nothing to either Antonia or I, but I sensed that he was one of the tributes who might stand a chance. He was strong enough, by the looks of him. Of course, he had much more chance than Riley.

As we clambered out the car, reporters took pictures of the two tributes. Otto stood tall, looking at the camera confidently, whereas Riley didn't even raise her head from her hands. With a sigh, I ushered them onto the train. Another year of watching innocent kids die was just beginning.

The train began to move, picking up pace very quickly, and we moved into the dining cart. Antonia fetched a wad of Capitol made tissues, trying to wipe up Riley's face. Otto rolled his eyes.

"I refuse to listen to this kid anymore. I'm finding my room," he said, storming across the carriage and out the door. I didn't bother telling him he was going the wrong way, appalled by his completely uncaring nature. I returned my attention to Riley, but realised her sobs were beginning to die down.

"Has he gone?" she whispered tentatively. Antonia knelt beside her and patted her leg.

"Yeah. Don't worry, sweetie, we're going to help-"

Suddenly, Riley let out a peal of laughter. She uncovered her face, still a mess of blood and tears, but she was grinning. I blinked in surprise.

"I can't believe everyone fell for it!" she exclaimed, letting out a small piggish snort.

"You...care to explain?" Antonia said.

"I'm definitely keeping this up," Riley said, beginning to wipe her face as she shook her head in amusement.

"Riley. Tell us what's going on," I said sharply. She looked at me, her face almost clean and revealing a spray of freckles on her cheeks.

"It's my thing. No one will expect it! I'll act like a weakling, and come the Games, they won't know what's hit them!" she cried, her smile splitting her face and revealing crooked teeth. I found myself smiling at her. She was like a whirlwind, hitting you with her personality all at once. It was slightly frightening in a sense, but I admired her. I admired her performance and her self-belief. She believed she could win. Antonia, however, was not amused by her stunt.

"It's not funny, Riley! I was worried about you!" Antonia said maternally.

"This is your first year, isn't it? As mentor I mean? Haven't you realised yet? Twenty three have to die for one to live. You need to get used to the concept of death," Riley said somewhat wisely.

"And what makes you think you can win, eh?" Antonia shot back.

"I'm smart," Riley replied.

"Not at all modest, are you?"

"There is no room for modesty in this game. If you can't identify your strengths, how do you expect to succeed?" Riley asked innocently.

"She has a point, Antonia," I said, looking curiously at the young girl "How old are you, Riley?"

"Thirteen," she replied. I nodded with a smile.

"Tell me more about strengths you have."

Riley grinned again "I don't feel pain! This," she said, gesturing to her swelling nose "Didn't hurt a bit! Look, I'll prove it. Punch me! Go on, punch me!"

"I wish I could," Antonia mumbled.

"Alright, alright, you two. Riley, how about you go and get washed up and get some new clothes? And perhaps have a nap?" I said, desperate for her to calm down. She was wearing me out already. She jumped up with giddy energy.

"OK. This is our secret, yeah? Don't tell Otto," she said, and with that, she was gone. I noted that she was fast. I smiled to myself as the image of a whirlwind returned.

"She's a handful," Antonia said bluntly, going to the drinks bar and pouring herself a spirit. She offered me a glass which I declined with a wave of my hand.

"She certainly is. But I'm a little more optimistic about her chances now, aren't you?" I asked, sitting opposite to her on a bar stool.

"I guess," Antonia said, sipping her drink quietly "It's strange to think last year I was in her position."

I drummed my fingers on the table, wondering whether to ask her the question on my mind.

"What is it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow "Something's up, I can tell."

I sighed, fidgeting in my chair "There is something I want to ask you. And I want an honest answer."

She looked at me for a moment, considering, before nodding assent.

"Antonia...do you regret it? Volunteering for the Games?"

She finished her drink, obviously procrastinating and not wanting to answer. But she slammed her drink down on the counter, wrinkling her nose at the strong taste, and began to speak.

"Yes. And no. In some ways, it was the best thing I ever did. I learned how to fend for myself. I learned how harsh the world can be, and that only the strongest survive. I learned that to keep the things you love...you have to fight for them," she whispered, and I swear she looked at me meaningfully. She continued "But the Games do something irreversible. They turn your heart to stone, they make you a ruthless killing machine. They make you want to kill yourself, knowing that you sacrificed others to reach the top. They haunt your dreams, making certain that you toss in the night until you don't have the strength to. They tear your family apart. My parents don't know whether to hate me or pity me. They hate what I've become. They pity that I made the choice to become a monster."

She poured herself another drink pointedly, telling me her speech was at an end. I bit the skin on my thumb.

"Grandmother has always stuck by the belief that if you do something wrong, you spend your life repaying it. That's why she makes me work. So that I'm repaying the community for my sins, I guess. Everything we did in the Games was wrong. But at least we can move on," I pointed out. A comfortable silence fell between us for a moment, while I worked up the courage to ask another question.

"I know what you want to say," Antonia said "You want to ask me why I volunteered in the first place."

I nodded, wondering how she could read my mind so easily.

"You're not hard to figure out, Arrian. You're an open book," Antonia said softly. She took my hand in hers. Her hands weren't soft like Pandora's. They were calloused and scarred, a constant reminder of her battles. Battles we'd both faced in our lives. I could see the slithers of silver in her blue orbs as they hooked on mine and held my gaze, ensnaring me. She brushed my knuckles lightly with her thumb, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Arrian. I can't explain how much I want to tell you. But not today. Not now. Someday, I'll tell you why. And then you'll understand," she said vaguely. She let go of my hand and let her gaze fall to her lap.

"I think I'll go and have a shower. I want to see how my arm is doing," she said. I watched her as she left the room, and wondered why I was left with my heart beating a little faster.