Certain Death {On Hold}

Chapter Two

Swallowing has become difficult. A wet lump has formed in my throat, and will not move. I feel a wetness on my face, but I am unsure as to whether they are my own or Katniss' tears.

Nothing. That's all that crossed my mind in the short walk. My body moved automatically. My feet stepped forward in turn. I honestly remember nothing of that period of time.

The next thing I was conscious of, I was being ushered into a very plush and luxurious room. It was so obviously kept just for the tributes. There was a sense of foreboding about it, a feeling I couldn't quite place. A shudder ran through my body. How many other female tributes had sat in this precise room, on this couch, waiting for visitors to come through that door? I closed my eyes silently, letting my thoughts run through my mind unchecked for the first time in what felt like forever. My name was just picked in the reaping. For the hunger games. Dear Lord, my mind whispered, Why me? Have I done something wrong? Have I messed up so utterly that you have decided I am not good enough to live anymore?

I received no answer.

When I opened my eyes, I found tears had trailed down my cheeks, and dripped off my chin. My hands were clenched in my lap, so tightly. So tightly. As though it were a lifeline that could pull me from this shipwreck. I sucked in a breath and stopped my thoughts there. That was not what I should have been thinking at a time like this. I needed to keep my head so I could get as far as possible in the games. My thoughts were immediately returned to where they were meant to be, to my current situation.

No volunteer. Just me. I'm alone, now. Will Thresh help me? Or will he leave me to die?

"Rue Leisen. Visitors," A male Peacekeeper opened the door to allow my family in. I watched my sister and brother file in before of my mother and father.

"Rue! Oh, my sweet, sweet Rue." My mother rushed to my side and pulled me into her lap. Her hands ran through my hair, her arms held me to her. I felt her tears falling onto my head. My sister and brother sat next to us, each taking one my my hands in what seemed to me a rather formal mannerism.

"Mom?"

"Yes, dear? Oh, what do you need, Rue?"

"I won't come out alive. You know that, right?"

"Rue! Don't be speaking that way. You have a chance." I returned her desperate gaze with my solemn one.

"Mom." And then, she could tell that I meant it. I knew I would not survive these games.

"Rue, your mentor will help you. You may be able to get through this alive." These were my father's first words to me since my reaping. I climbed off my mother's lap and hugged him.

"Seeder will get you through it," he assured me. But his eyes were saying "good-bye" and so were his arms. I merely nodded, not wishing to contradict him in this short time I had with my family.

The door opened, revealing a guard.

"It is time to leave," he stated. I clung to my father, and my mother came and hugged me also. I turned and wrapped my arms around her.

"I love you, Rue. Keep safe. Whatever you do, be careful," she whispered. She kissed the top of my head, and then my forehead. She took my face in her hands.

"You can do this. You can survive. I love you." And then, she was being dragged away by peacekeepers.

"Mom! Please! No! Let me have more time!" I screamed after them, after the door had closed, after they had left. This couldn't be happening. I would never see my family again. Sorrow flooded me, piercing my chest with its ice-cold dagger. What hope did I have against my larger, stronger, older opponents? Tears flowed down my cheeks, and I wiped them away.

"Rue Leisen, it is time to leave." I looked up from my place on the floor. Another peacekeeper came into the room, taking my arm and roughly leading me out of the room. I now wanted that cold, heartless room. I did not want to be thrown into this terrifying world of cold-blooded killers. I wanted to go home, to my family, to my warm, welcoming bed.

The peacekeeper led me down a hallway, through a door, and down the back steps of the Justice Building. I was ushered onto a train, my feet tripping over the unforgiving metal steps.