Ageless Love

Chapter Two

A loud, bloodcurdling scream pierces the silence that fell when my name was read. It didn't come from me; I turn around, and my mother is sobbing hysterically, frantically trying to reach me, crawling on her hands and knees. Peacekeepers hold her back, and push me forward.

I don't know what takes over me, because I just stare at the floor and follow the procedure. I pry my mother's nails off my shoulder, and  climb the small staircase up to the stage, where I awkwardly stand next to Effie Trinket. "Aw, you cute little thing! Now, for the boys," She says quickly. Effie is obviously trying to speed this up, and just picks the slip of paper on the top. Not as half as dramatic as my reading, she flatly says, "Peeta Mellark."

A well-built eighteen-year-old gapes at Effie while he climbs his way up to the stage. Effie gives her signature terrifying grin, and says enthusiastically, "Ladies and gentlemen, District 12's tributes for the 74th Annual Hunger Games!"

The Peacekeepers escort (more like shove) me into the Justice Building. It's a tall brick building that's moldy and sad. It once used to be a prestigious and beautiful place, but about a century later, it's depressing and ugly. I wait in a room with soft, velvet couches and large platters of cookies, eclairs, and other pastries. It was mouthwatering, but I still have dignity, and wouldn't take anything from the Capitol yet. "You have three minutes," A low and booming voice calls out. My mother, puffy-eyed, with a red nose and sniffling, clutches me tightly. She cries so hard her body shakes with her sobs. I'm in a state of shock, I still can't process what happened. "My baby, now I've lost both of you! We lost Katniss, now you, no please, I can't lose you, Prim, I can't." My mother's tears dampen a section of my blouse, and I'm not sure how to comfort her. I don't believe I have any chance of winning the; I'm unathletic, scrawny, and can't do anything, for God's sake! I'm a twig that'll be broken in half three seconds into the Bloodbath.

I try to reassure her, by telling her a lie I know for a fact she won't believe. "Mom, I will win this. I'll come back to you, I promise." I kiss her cheek, and she bursts into louder wails. The Peacekeeper might've gotten annoyed, because we still had two minutes left, but he dragged my mother away and told her to shut up. I let a couple tears fall, but not so many that I'll look pathetic when I arrive at the Capitol.

Effie comes to collect me from the waiting room, and she's chattering away about what we'll be doing throughout the two weeks of prep. "Oh, darling, I can't wait until you meet Cinna, your stylist is a genius!" Effie cried, but he was probably just as insane as her.

The train speeds along at a fast rate, making me nervous and clammy. I sat across from Peeta, who looked nauseous. "Peeta?" I mutter, and his eyes meet mine for a split second, before they dart away. Servants dressed in maroon robes pull out a gourmet buffet, and nod when I thank them. "Ugh, Prim! Don't talk to them!" Effie hisses at me in a hushed tone, while grabbing a biscuit, and pouring herself a vile-looking green drink. "What on Earth is that?" I ask curiously. "You drink this, and it makes you throw up so you can taste everything!" Effie says cheerfully, and gulps it down. I grimace. The Capitol's people drink so they can puke and eat some more, while the citizens of District 12 starve.

After lunch, I wander around the train for a while. I peer into a control room, where Capitol officials type away. I catch the eye of one, and he slams the door shut. I walk down the hall where my bedroom is located. A door is propped open, and I creep into the room. Must be Peeta's, I think. There's a navy blue jumpsuit sprawled across the carpeted floor, along with a red dress shirt, and a simple black t-shirt. "Dressed to impress," I chuckle lightly. The room is elegant and professional—also synonymous with boring. The blue and grey color scheme is saddening. I sit on the bed, and the fuzzy comforters tickle my thighs. There's a picture of a beautiful redheaded girl on the dresser. I wonder who she is, and then spot a folded piece of paper. I reach for it, but I am interrupted. "What are you doing in here?" A voice asks, and makes me jump. It's Peeta. "I'm sorry... the door was open, and I, uh, just...wandered in..." My voice trails off and I shift awkwardly. "It's fine, really. It's not really my room, anyway," Peeta replies. I get up and head for the door, "Really sorry, I'm...uh...sorry," I quickly scurry out of the room to avoid his interrogation.

For the rest of the day, I wonder who the beautiful girl on Peeta's dresser was. Perhaps his sister, or friend. Maybe even lover. I push the thought of her being his possible lover into the very back of my mind; it's too weird to think of such a thing when I don't even know him—it's not weird, Prim. It's not. It's probably true. I drink a cup of warm milk before brushing my teeth and crawling into bed. I pull the comforters over my body, and shut my eyes and force myself to fall asleep.