The Intake (Ems)

Training is boring yet necessary. It's important to learn to survive. To keep myself alive because I will survive the games. I made a promise I would do the best I can, and I'm not one to break promises. As sad as it is, it may have been a hollow promise to keep my family happy. To let Citadel know I'm going to try, and it terrifies me what'll happen to her if I die in the games. But training is old, and I want to eat the food that's waiting in the dining hall. It's calling for me, and I'm happy to oblige.

Once I'm in the dining hall, I'm piling food from district ten on my plate. It all sounds so lovely yet disgusting at the same time. But I've always been told to not hate on something until I try it. I stop in front of a placard reading sweat potato pie.

Sweat potato pie. What is that?

With a shrug of my shoulders, I'm putting it on my plate along with lamb. I'm sure it tastes amazing.

Once my plate is full, I take a seat at a table with nobody around. It's how I roll. It's my goal. Everything is important right now. Learning who I'm up against. But most importantly, I need to get my weight up so I can go longer without eating. Though, it could make it worse.

Relaxing, and enjoying my food some male walks over towards me holding a plate in his own hand.

"Hey, is it okay if I sit here?"

Looking around, I try to spot another open table, but I doubt there's many seats left. It's late, and most are taken. Saying no would could become a perfect chance to make an enemy, but I feel I could talk to someone. Get to know them. Figure them out, and why not talk to this boy here.

"Sure. Go right ahead." I state calmly with a nod of my head before taking a bite of the sweat potato pie. "And youare?" I ask with my mouth filled with food hoping he'll understand.

Something is different about this guy compared to the other tributes I've met so far. He's quiet. Kind of shy. But it makes no difference because in the end everyone here is the enemy. Yet part of me wants to know more. It's my goal to learn the name of every tribute so when their face lights up in the anthem, I can say goodbye to them forever. If all goes according to plan, I'll be the last one standing receiving the crown of honor and glory. Chaske fought for it, and I'll do the same, but unlike him, the worthlessness won't hold me back since I am the good child.

The guy sits down and starts eating. He's ignored my question, and I want to call him out on it, but soon he's looking at me. His bite is finished, and he's talking to me. "May name's Samuels. Jackson Samuels. District 6. I don't mind what you call me, though."

Jackson Samuels of district six. Lucky for him he isn't one I've sworn to kill. But is killing all it's made out to be? Katelyn seems to struggle from it. Maybe it's the fame that comes with the price of twenty-three dying. Maybe it's because she's some damsel in distress.

A soft smile slowly spreads from ear to ear as I take another bite of the sweat potato pie. Ohmyohmyohmy. This is one of the best foods I've ever tasted in my entire life, and I'm feeling bad because my family is at home starving while I devour this food like it's nothing because I'm blessed with many refills.

"What's your name?"

It's amazing that everyone doesn't know me yet. I've ran into someone. I've fought with a victor. I'm definitely making a name for myself, but apparently the news doesn't pass quickly here. Swallowing the bite of food, I wipe my face with a napkin.

"Rolf Parks from district nine."

Why I'm having a conversation with this man is unknown to me, but it's something to pass time before I'm back in the gym training. I quickly shovel another piece of the sweat potato pie into my mouth.

"Areyou enjoyingthe Capitol?" It's rude to talk with my mouth full, but I have to know, and time is of the essence.

What is it about this guy has drawn my attention?

Something is off. One part of me wants to trust him while the other part is putting him on a list of people to stay away from. He doesn't seem very talkative, but I understand because the games are just around the corner. Soon death will call for us, and it won't stop until only one remains. Scratching my head, I try to remember his name - I know he said it earlier. Perhaps it's best if I just let it go away.

"It's nice to meet you, Rolf."

Yeah. It would be nice if it wasn't for the fact that we're both here in the Capitol preparing to die. I give a quick nod of my head before returning the soft grin.

Was it Sam?

Pushing the thoughts away, I get ready to take another bite of food, yet his words completely catch me off guard.

"Uh, yeah. It's pretty cool here. It's much nicer here. My dad works for the Capitol. I don't know where or what, but he works for some Capiolites. It's definitely better here than District 6, especially the food.. How do you like it so far?"

My jaw clenches tightly.

His father works for the Capitol. He's part of the reason why we're all being sentenced to death, yet it goes to show that even those with the biggest ties to the Capitol aren't safe from the cruel nature of the games. My gaze narrows as I try to push the thought away of his father standing in the games watching and cheering as we die.

No, it has to be something different.

It takes all my strength to keep calm and allow him to eat his meal in front of me.

"It's alright. I mean it's not home or anything. Nothing special. Food is okay. Seeing what different districts has amazes me." I try to lie because this place is amazing, and I feel like I'll betray everything I know if I own up to it to a person. "There's no place like home, though." And that's the truth. As much as I hate it, I've learned to love it because now it may be taken away from me forever.

What I would do to wake up in my own bed to the smell of my aunt's cooking.

I can't push the thoughts away, and talking about home is only making it worse. The Capitol is where I reside for now although my residence may be permanent if my life ends inside the arena. It's a sickening thought. Dying in the games. But the idea of killing someone is hard to stomach too. But I want to go home. I have to return home alive, or everything is ruined. I made a promise, and breaking it isn't polite. Perhaps I shouldn't have made a promise I'm not guaranteed to keep.

Lifting another bite from my plate, I'm devouring the food I've gathered inside.

"That's true. Home will always be special."

It's beyond me why I'm talking to him about home. Maybe to find out if he misses it just as much as I do? To see if he has the will left inside of him to fight? I don't know, but it's making me frustrated. I never had much of a home growing up, and now it's being taken away from me. What have I done wrong?

I am the good child.

Bad things shouldn't happen to me.

But they have.

"So how do you like the other tributes so far?"

My hand stops before it can reach my mouth, and my eyes open wide. A lump forms in the back of my throat, and every breath catches beneath it. All my hair stands on end. That's a tough one. Do I lie and tell him that I'm not afraid and I feel I can win it all? No, that'll be threatening him. Do I tell him that I'm terrified? No, that'll make me weak. Do I tell him that this is an interesting bunch? Maybe?

What can I tell him?

Scratching my head, I drop the bite back on my plate - "I haven't really had the chance to communicate with a lot of them." I offer with a slight shrug. "Some just look more terrifying than other's."