It is a short car ride to the train from the justice building. I travel in cars all the time. For school. Three times a year we are given a tour around a factory that produces one of our luxury items. The trips are dull and boring. We learn about reading and writing and math and all that, but it always goes back to our industrys work. Then theres the weekly lecture on the dark days, which is just about the districts losing and how the hunger games were created, but I can tell its just all that crud about what we owe the capitol. Just because we are one of the most favored districts of the capitol doesnt mean we get a blind eye turned to us.

Soon, we arrive at the train. Its a large, shining, silver train that can speed up to 250 miles per hour. Uh-oh. Cameras. I put on a cocky face and grin develishly. I get a glimpse of myself on camera. Well, Im not entirely fake to an audience.

I step inside. The trains insides are more beautiful than its out. Plush, comfy, fancy, you name it. A person in a white tunic ecsorts me to my room. There is a fluffy, tall bed with a white comforter and embrodiered black pillows. In the corner is an odd purple chair with dimonds on the armrests. There is a large, flat, white T.V. on the wall where the window is. Wow. There is even a black and white bedside table on either side of the great bed. It is unlike any room I have seen.

I think about my room. It is half the size of this one. My bed is a medium size one, with a black and green quilt on it. There are two simple white pillows on it. The only thing special about them is a stitched on (poorly stitched on) butterfly. I have a chair in one corner. A shabby old white-ish thing with multiple stains. My bedside tables are old, black things with white stains because I tried to paint them white, as much as I despise black. Though, here, it seems attractive. The only T.V.s In my house are in the den and living room. Even being a wealthy district, Our house is small, compared to here.

I step out of the room. We start moving once I stand up so I wobble a bit until a hand grabs my shoulder. "We need to talk," the voice says. It belongs to Marvel. Of course. He takes me into a sitting room with a huge loveseat and sits me on it. No one else is in this room. That I know of. Thats how big it is. "This is all your fault! If you would have juts let me run away I wouldnt be here! I wouldnt have been picked! Why did you do this?!" His voice has risen in anger. I swallow hard and begin to defend myself." I-I-I didnt know you would be reaped.How could I? I suggested you stay, not said. This is NOT my fault." I try to keep my voice calm and low, but im so mad! It was not my fault! He could have run away! Who listens to me??He scowls, then grins. " You keep telling yourself that. But nothing will change." Now Im mad. " You would have still been reaped!! Just not have shown up...but why direct this at me?" My voice breaks and tears flow. He stops grinning and sits next to me, but doesnt look at me. " I keep never came to the meadow this morning..."

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