The night in District 4 was cool and fresh, and all the citizens were sleeping peacefully. But there was one exception. Apollo Odair was wide awake, sitting on his bed, while his wife was sleeping beside him. Apollo looked over at his beautiful wife with disgust in his eyes. When he returned home after his glorious victory in the first hunger games, he had met Melissa. He had gotten horribly drunk, and then out of nowhere they were a pair. First Apollo was more than satisfied, the sex was great, and for a long time that was all he needed. Then, when they were nineteen, the wedding was held, and Apollo have been unhappy since then. When he and Melissa were unmarried he had been too busy with how beautiful she was to notice what a controlling bitch she was. But now Melissa controlled every aspect of his life, and he felt like a rat trapped in a cage for the amusement of a child. In other words he felt trapped, and broken. There was lots of things Melissa didn´t understand. His gruesome memories from the games still haunt him, but she was one of those people who cared only for honor. And it was a great honro to be the wife of a victor. Apollo had had enough, great sex wasn´t enough any more, he wanted something different. Like real, pure love. As he looked down at the floor, he noticed a spot on the wood that looked a lot like a person. A person with frizzly brown hair and sharp features. He couldn´t stop himself, he saw her everywhere. Sylvia was everywhere, and he knew he couldn´t escape until he found out what happened to her. The mad little girl, his mad little girl Once again he looked over at Melissa, and then he had made his decicion. He was to travel to District 6 and find Sylvia, dead or alive.
Apollo jumped as something streaked past him, but it was only a black cat, almost impossible to spot in the suffocating darkness. He had snuck out of his house and was now sneaking through the town, heading for the train station. The train station was the only way to travel to a district to another. But it was strictly forbidden, and one was killed on the spot if seen one of the silver, streamlined trains. The trains were usually used to transport District 4´s main export, seafood, to The Capitol, but some of them went to other districts. Suddenly a high fence was towering over him, and beyond it he could see the beautiful silver trains, neatly parked at the station. He saw at least five peacekeepers patrolling around with flashlights, jet-black batons in their hands and guns in their belts. Without hesitation, Apollo began to climb the fence. Luckily he was an exellent climber, and within seconds he was on the other side of the fence. He sneaked carefully to a pile of crates, and hid himself there. Now he realized how dumb this was. He didn´t have a plan, he didn´t have any idea on how he would board one of the trains. And more importantly, how to do so without his head being blown off.
Apollo´s hair whipped in the cool wind as he ran through the dark train station. He moved like a blur through the darkness, while his feet made little to no sound. He arrived in front of a big glass door, leading in to the trains. Suddenly his face got illuminated by a flashligth, and Apollo sees the surprised face of a peacekeeper on the other side of the glass. The man´s eyes widen, and he opened his mouth. The bullet is faster than the peacekeeper, and the poor man is on the ground, scarlet blood flowing from the hole in his chest. Apollo stands frozen, peeking through the shattered glass before he steps inside. Just as he steps over the peacekeepers body, a metal bullet nip at his ear. Apollo is trapped, peacekeepers closing in at every direction. All their guns are pointing at his chest, their cold glares boring into him. But then a loud hoot can be heard, and they all get distracted the train, good on it´s way out of the station. Realizing that this is his last chance, Apollo daringly makes a run for the train. Bullets fly past him, none hitting him, expect one. It shoots straigth into his leg, and he howls in pain. But he can´t give up now, not when he´s this close.