highway to hell [python]

MACHAON AMADOR

Fortunately, he wasn’t alone. His mother understood how hopeless the situation was. In the Justice Building his father was silent, overlooking the scene with a grim expression. Machaon could only embrace his mother as she sobbed against his shoulder. This definitely wasn’t what she had in mind for an improvement of his lifestyle. Death was never the answer. As much as they could spend time discussing how he would try his best to make it home, all three of them knew what the outcome would be. District Eight was cursed, and not even a miracle would allow him to break out of that cycle.

”Sorry,” was all he could mutter. What was he supposed to say? He wouldn’t make an empty promise to return alive because that would crush her. False hope was worse than accepting the outcome, he knew that from personal experience.

Lucia would tell you to have hope, to try anyway.

He could try, but where was Lucia now? In the ground.

The three of them hugged until the Peacekeepers ordered him away. They led him into the train, knowing damn well that he was never going to see his folks again. Not that they cared. He looked up at the spacious tables and furrowed his eyebrows. He wasn’t sure what he expected the inside of this thing to look like, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t all grey with uncomfortable seats, and it didn’t have ugly posters of capitol propaganda plastered everywhere. It looked…beautiful, actually. Comfortable. And he could smell food coming from somewhere.

The other girl was already here. Blonde and pretty, yet he had already forgotten her name. Perhaps he should’ve paid more attention to the Reaping every year. The only detail he knew about last year’s games was how swampy it was, and how a good number of the tributes died in suspended bird cages. Those assholes in the capitol were creative. He couldn’t imagine what was in store for them, but for the first time in his life he would be forced to.

He was actually going to die.

”Some place, huh.” he sat down across from her, not caring whether or not she replied. They were both probably suffering from some form of shock, although right now he was still in disbelief about how expensive the damn train looked.

MACHAON AMADOR

The train looked like a million dollars, but he doubted it cost the Capitol a ‘fortune’. He supposed that was the joke, judging by her fleeting grin. Not even a large fraction of their wealth could’ve been dedicated to one measly train, and he knew this by watching the television screens. With so much focus on giant buildings and rainbow-colored costumes for tributes, there was no reason to pour that much money into a tin can. That was the upsetting part; only a pinch of their wealth had been invested in this, he guessed, yet it was more than he would’ve ever earned his entire life.

His eyes wandered to a distant table, where glistening metal trays were taunting him. This must’ve been the source of the delicious smell. He could detect freshly-baked bread and sweets among other things, and he couldn’t decide what he craved more.

”You’re…Macaroon, right?”

”Um, close,” he lied, because it wasn’t. ”It’s Machaon.”

He leaned back and tapped his fingers against the armrest. There was no reason to feel offended; he had forgotten her name also. ”I can’t remember your name either, it’s okay.” He shrugged, an outward attempt to brush it off. In reality, it was probably important to learn who she was. They could team up or end up running into each other later on.

Oh, right. The Arena. The Games.

This was really happening.

MACHAON AMADOR

He soaked up silence as the train budged. It felt smoother than it sounded, a gentle hum that reminded him of nothing else. Natalie seemed the reluctant type, but perhaps it was the shockwaves of the Reaping that had tightened her lips. He didn’t know how to think or feel, sitting in a place he didn’t belong. This destiny had been thrust upon them so suddenly, and he guessed that neither of them were in any shape to accept it. The Games had always been such a faraway thing, just a television show he would glance at when the hype was too loud for him to ignore.

Now he was staring out the window, watching the blurs of tree soaring by. He didn’t know what anything outside of Eight looked like.

”So, what do you do?” he asked, tapping his fingers until he had to fidget. Normally he was relaxed, but everything about this was strange and wrong. By the time he could adjust to how fast this thing was moving, the prospect of imminent death would be too potent. There was no way to adapt to this situation, and he suddenly felt sympathy in his gut for the poor people who had to endure the same and die for nothing.

He cleared his throat and spoke again. ”I’m a nurse. Well, nurse’s assistant technically.”