Iron Clad

Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

     I am told that I’m not allowed the usual visitation rights due to my outburst, but I’m okay with that. I doubt that I have the strength to face my family anyway, and if Julius were to visit me, I would maul him in an instant. The waiting room is plush and decorated so beautifully that it makes me sick. The silk curtains and delicate wooden tables make me furious. I want to hurl the hand painted vase to my left directly out the window. Forced to simmer in my own rage, it takes forever for Terra’s visitation time to end, even though her entire family knows she’s a Career.  Of course she was being sent away to die. At least this was her choice. I didn’t get any say so. Peacekeepers come in and escort me to the train that will take me to the Capitol. I’m rather disappointed in myself when I get inside, as my first thought is that I can’t remember the last time I've been anywhere as cold as the tribute train. Most people are probably either sobbing about going to meet death, or contemplating how they’ll kill at least one other person in the Arena, and I’m thinking about the room temperature. Wonderful.

     I’ve never, in my entire life, considered that I would go to the Hunger Games. My name has been drawn exactly once before, but that was a few years ago, and the planned Career tribute took my place. If it weren’t for Julius, I wouldn’t be here. I can’t shake that knowledge from my head. I’ll do anything to focus on something else. The air in here is very nice and cool. Climbing up on a chair near the corner of the train car, I inspect the air vents. Even in District 2, our air conditioning is vastly inferior, and it breaks down on a regular basis. By now, I’m starting to calm down somewhat. Julius is still on the top of my “Most Wanted” list, but there’s not a thing I can do about it, I suppose.

     The fact that my entire family did nothing to protect me terrifies me, though. My mother tried for a whole sixty seconds, but Septus and Dad did nothing but let Gaius hold me down long enough for more Peacekeepers to come. I wonder if I’m being selfish, but how could anyone blame me for wanting my own relative to save me fro certain death? I have no training, and now I’m expected to go out into whatever unforgiving environment the Gamemakers put me in and hold my own against Careers like Terra. My odds are really looking up.

     The chair begins to wobble from my standing on it, so I slide down into it and curl my knees to my chest and close my eyes. Then I cry. I just sit there and cry for as long as I need to. There’s not a soul here, so why not? May as well get it all out of my system as soon as possible so I don’t look weak to the Capitol citizens, but who am I kidding? I’m certainly not fooling myself, but it’s comforting to know that I almost did.

     "What are you doing?" A female voice comes from the other side of the room. I panic and quickly rub my eyes with the sleeves of my uniform. The girl is tall, pretty, with pulled back brown hair and a fancy dress on. She looks stern, so I immediately recognize her as Terra. Great, now the strongest competitor in the whole Games knows I’ve been crying.

     "You’re Beryl, right?" She doesn’t change her expression. No sympathy, but no disappointment, either. Terra looks a little older than eighteen, and if the Reaping was based on how old one looked, she would be exempt from the Reaping. If only I could be that lucky. I know that she doesn’t say much, and I’ve heard plenty of rumors about her in school, none of them positive. The first one I can think of is the time she snapped a boy’s collarbone because he made the mistake of starting an argument.

     "Yeah, why?" I spit out.

     "I think I have the right to know who the other tribute is, don’t you?” She looks somewhat agitated now, and I decide to stand my ground and prove I’m not weak.

     "Look, don’t think I’m weak or anything because I was sitting back here all by myself.” She’s not convinced by my oddly specific claims.