A Game of Chance [A Hunger Games Fanfiction]
Author: Phoenix Summers

Chapter 7
Arrival

A few hours after the reapings end, I am relaxing in my train bedroom. I have changed into a cute red dress and tights, ready for our arrival in the Capitol. Our train will be in first, meaning that the Capitol citizens will likely be ecstatic to see us. One of the benefits of being the closest district to the Capitol. All we have to do is make a good impression.

 

I make my way out of the room. I can see Hunter standing by the window, looking out. She looks awed, but when she sees my reflection, she scowls. Quickly she brushes past me, going into her room.

 

My lip curls into a sneer. Obviously she is scared of me. That must be the reason that she won't make eye contact. I relish the thought of killing her in the Arena. I know one thing for certain- that she most definately is not a career. Remembering that she was gawping at something outside, I move over to the window.

 

What I see out of it makes me gasp. The Capitol is in the distance, and even from here I can make out elegant buildings, advanced technology and flashing neon lights. It looks even more stunning than the photos at the reapings show. Excitedly I rush down the corridor to the back room, which is completely made out of glass. All the better to be seen.

 

Upon arrival at the back room I grind my teeth, annoyed. Damon smirks at me, obviously having had the same idea.

 

'You should stop grinding your teeth like that' he says smugly. 'We wouldn't want your teeth to be uneven before the Chariots and Interviews now, would we?'

 

His sarcasm is obvious, and I want to hit him. Except I can't. Because of the stupid rule that states 'No tribute may harm another tribute before the arena.' Come on. Seriously?

 

He grins. 'I can see you remembering the rule about hurting the other tributes. Wise move... Girl'.

 

He didn't even call me my name, real or fake. He might as well just be knocking me off his list completely. I look at him, trying to contain my anger, and reply 'We'd better get ready. We're nearly there.'

 

Without looking at each-other we sit side by side on the couch. We are now going though a tunnel. A very long tunnel. In fact... a tunnel that we have been going through for the last 5 minutes. We must be underground.

 

As I am about to mention this, the tunnel suddenly starts to rapidly incline, and I shift nervously. I have heard about this part of the journey; we can't be much more than 3-4 minutes away from the Capitol station now. I then realise that I left my tribute token at home. I groan, mentally slapping myself. Nothing to be done about it now, I suppose.

 

Suddenly, the train starts to slow, and I can see light at the end of the tunnel. I tense slightly as it draws closer, then yet closer still. Now I can make out a hustle of people milling around. Waiting around for our arrival, as if we are people of importance. Which... I suppose we are.

 

The train grinds to a halt with a piercing screech, and I wince, chiding myself as I do so. I plaster a smile of great happiness on my face, and grin out of the window, waving at the Capitol citizens, who are going balistic. With any luck, some will be sponsors. Then we'll see how many of the other tributes ignore us, if any at all.

 

Hunter, Damon and I move towards the door of the train in quick succession. I smile as it slides open, and step out purposely. As I am swallowed up by the Capitol admirers, I am only thinking of one thing.

 

Sponsors.

 

Notify me when...

"This extract remains the exclusive property of the author who retains all copyright and other intellectual property rights in the work. It may not be stored, displayed, published, reproduced or used by any person or entity for any purpose without the author's express permission and authority."

Please rate and comment on this work
The writer appreciates your feedback.

Book overall rating (No. of ratings: 
0
):
Would you consider buying this book?
Yes | No
Your rating:
Post a comment Share with a friend
Your first name:
Your email:
Recipient's first name:
Recipient's email:
Message:
 

Worthy of Publishing is against spam. All information submitted here will remain secure, and will not be sold to spammers.

No advertising or promotional content permitted.