Not Just A Game

Chapter 5

I walk slowly, my knees shaking. I try to absorb every last bit of my home before I could leave it forever.

I exit the Justice Building and look around the square.

I see the bakery where Sadie once cooked me warm bread with Willow by her side. The astonishing taste of the cooked dough on my tongue. I would try to keep it in my mouth as long as possible, just to savor the taste of it. I remember this morning, the feeling of total relaxation just being in the bakery with the heat of the ovens wafting throughout the shop. The way the place smells, the aroma of wheat lingering around.

That bakery though, isn't the one I used to know. The one that holds my memories burned down.

And it took my sister with it.

This new one, has been rebuilt after tragedy. You wouldn't be able to tell the disaster that happened just by looking at it. But you would have to know.

That bakery is just like me.

I keep my eyes locked on it until I reach the platform that will take me to the train.

I'm the third tribute here. Harley and Griffin are standing across from me. Neither are crying, but they look extremely nervous.

Griffin and I lock eyes, both of us reading each other's faces.

His face is worried. Nevous. Anxious. Scared.

Dustin emerges onto the platform a few minutes later, escorted by three peacekeepers.

His face is blotchy and red.

He clenches and unclenches his fists, as if restraining himself from fighting. His jaw is set.

I'm distracted by him so that I don't even realize Elsie telling us something.

I turn my attention to her and see that she's telling us to wear big smiles when we walk toward the train.

I see big cameras light up and Elsie motions for us to go.

I place myself beside Griffin and squeeze his hand. I'm nervous enough for the both of us.

We fall into step beside each other, Elsie in front of us.

I look around at the other tributes faces and think about what Elsie said earlier.

Griffin seems to be thinking the same thing because he turns to me and says,

"So much for smiling right?"

He's trying a weak attempt to hide his nervousness with a half hearted crooked smile.

I look forward once again and step onto the three small steps of the train, releasing Griffin's hand.

I am awe struck to what I see inside.

The lobby of the train is as big as my home. It has plush blue carpets, crystal chandeliers, beautiful wallpaper, and a fireplace in the rear of the room. Above it is a blown up plaque with the Capitol seal.

Go figures.

Griffin steps in after me, followed by Dustin and Harley.

They each have the same overwhelmed look on their faces. Eyes lit up with the wonder of all the luxurious items.

Elsie allows us a moment, then gives us a tour of the train. It has eight cars.

The first is just the control room where we see a man in a white uniform pressing buttons and manning the whiz zing and whirring levers and kranks.

The next is the lobby which we entered the train through.

The third car is a kind of a living room. It has comfy cream colored leather sofas and chairs, which each tribute spontaneously sits in for several minutes. All seats surround a glass coffee table with a basket containing fresh fruit. Behind the table is an enormous flat screen TV that covers half the wall. It has stacks upon stacks of discs lined up on a bookcase, which Elsie explains as every Hunger Games which we have unlimited access to at all times, for reviewing.

The next car is a dining area with a huge polished wood table set with fine china.

The next four cars are bedrooms for the tributes. They consist of a bed that has a remote that allows you to change its elecation, angle, and firmness. They also have a closet with all the clothes I could possibly think of, in every size possible.

Connected to the bedroom is a private bathroom about the same size as the bedroom. It has wall to wall mirrors and white marble countertops and sinks.

The faucets on everything is granite. Even the bathtub that has a jacuzzi and about fifty different knobs that adjust the amount of soap, scents, water, and temperature.

The shower is a whole other story.

It is the size of my bedroom at home. It has hundreds of buttons that adjust soap, water pressure, temperature, what direction the water flows from, and even has a button that does a full body blow dry when you finish- no need for towels.

I immediately strip off my reaping clothes and shoes, and set them neatly on my bed, hoping nobody takes them. The. I remember the locket strewn around my neck, and I unchain it, my last piece of home.

I take a long, drawn out shower, pressing all the buttons just to see what they do. I feel spoiled taking advantage of all the luxuries when there are people back in District 12 starving to death.

I silently hope that they would do the same thing if they were in my shoes.

I settle on a honey scented soap. It reminds me of the sweet thick liquid I once saw Sadie drip onto bread from a small tube.

I lather my hair with shampoo, trying desperately to rod my hair of all the grime it contains that I was unable to remove during my bath this morning.

When I get out, I dry myself and pick out a muted light blue tank top, and a pair of black stretchy pants that go just past my knees. I look at a tag on them that reads,

'yoga pants' .

Who knows what 'yoga' is?

I don't bother to put on shoes. In district 12, my feet became rough from walking shoeless on the hard dirt over many years.

I twist my blonde hair into a braid down my back, securing it with a band, and exhausted, I drag myself to dinner.

AUTHORS NOTE

HEY YALL HOPE YALL ARE LOVIN THIS BOOK. Please comment what you think I love all feedback. If you want a name used in the games, please request it. All suggestions will be used.

Next update will be later today, or tomorrow.

Xoxo

IRONABBS