The Fox

"I can't let them see me like this," I cry, the words releasing tears building up around my eyes.

"Lysandra, come here. Nobody can see you but me."

I stumble past the desk to Cassie and curl up on her lap like a tiny child, crying until I can cry no more.

"You have to come back," she says, although I can tell from her voice that she doesn't hold out much hope that I will. This is how we have both been since I arrived back in Laboratory 7. Each trying to be optimistic for the other, neither wanting to be the one to admit to how hopeless our situation truly is.

"Be realistic, Cass. This is goodbye."

"You've given up, haven't you?" she shouts. "How could you do that?! Our fathers wouldn't have given up!! Are you not even going to try?!"

I am shocked by her anger and say nothing. Have I given up? I honestly don't know. I can't help but understand that my chances are minimal, but I will be a tribute whether I fight to stay alive, or if I stand and wait for a Career's knife to bring me down at the Cornucopia.

As much as I hate to admit it, Cassie's right. My father would be ashamed of me if I didn't try. And besides, if somebody as unappealing and seemingly unintelligent as Viola Stafford can become a Victor, then why can't I?

I decide to admit this to my cousin, but as I open my mouth to speak, the door swings open and one of the Peacekeepers walks in, asking her to leave.

"Just a bit longer, please," Cassie whispers, but if the man hears her, it doesn't show. We embrace once more and then she is gone. Once again I am standing alone in the office, clutching the square of copper and staring at the door.

The door opens once more. Maybe it's time to leave? I think.

Another Peacekeeper walks in, but he is accompanied by Lucius. I dread to think what I must look like. It will surely be obvious that I've been crying. Still, I have nothing to lose now. He can't threaten to hurt or kill me. The Capitol will manage that quite soon enough, and they will be most vexed if he takes that pleasure away from them.

"As you will surely never be returning, I need to know what stage you're at with the work you've been doing."

He stares down at me, and I know then for the first time that I am capable of taking the life of another person - in my mind, at least. I'm still not certain if I will be able to kill another tribute in the arena, but it's a start. I ignore him completely, fighting hard to keep my face expressionless.

"Well, answer me!" he commands.

"Work it out for yourself," I reply. "You can do nothing to me now, and don't even try to tell me you will harm Cassie. I know you need her and the work she's doing. Besides, if I am as hopeless as you believe, then it will hardly be worth your while."

"You're too clever for your own good, Lysandra Redwood," he snaps. "You will know I'm right when you don't make it past the first day in that arena." He storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

It opens about ten seconds later and I'm taken back through the corridors to a car that's waiting outside to take me to the train. Lucius cannot seriously have expected me to answer him politely like I have been forced to do in the past, can he? No, he was coming to gloat, to celebrate my misfortune, to punish me because of whatever grievance he had with my father. After all, he had called me 'Redwood' not 'Newton', and his hatred of me could never have been caused by my own actions.

I wish that I had more time here. Time to find out about what really happened, about the events that led to my father's murder. But then maybe it's better that I don't know. It doesn't matter now, anyway. Chances are, I will never have the opportunity to make that decision.

I arrive at the train station before I realize this is only the third time in my life that I have been in a car. Once as a six-year-old to go from Laboratory 7 to the community home and once at thirteen to make the journey back. It doesn't seem as important to me as it might have at this time last week, and as the Peacekeeper opens the door I realize I probably won't have time to think about it anymore.

There are camera flashes everywhere and a large crowd of people surround me, calling my name and pushing microphones in front of my face.

"What do you feel about becoming a tribute, Lysandra?"

"Lysandra, do you think that you will be a contender in the Games?"

"What will your strategy be in the arena?"

I say nothing as the Peacekeepers surround me and practically carry me in the direction of the train, fighting their way through the mob. Do they seriously expect me to answer their questions? What do they think I will say? That I am deliriously happy to be seemingly sent to my death? That I've secretly been training for the moment my name was pulled from the reaping ball since I was five years old? I think it's blatantly obvious to everyone that there's very little chance of me winning, and if I did have a strategy I would be a very special kind of stupid to reveal it on a television broadcast that is compulsory viewing for the entire nation.

Somebody lifts me up into the train just as Alecto, my fellow tribute, escapes the clutches of the reporters and climbs up to stand beside me. They call our names repeatedly and we are forced to pose for photographs. He looks even thinner, now that I have the chance to look at him more closely, like he has gone through all of his seventeen years without ever having a decent meal - he probably hasn't.

I escape into the cabin as quickly as I can and then come to a sudden stop. I have never seen such an opulently decorated room. The wallpaper is a deep shade of red and the wood of the table and chairs is an equally deep mahogany. The table has already been prepared for a meal and every plate, glass, knife and fork looks like it is made from solid gold.

As Alecto moves to stand beside me I can see that he is even more stunned by his surroundings than I am. So stunned, in fact, that he visibly jumps when Icarus and Viola bustle into the room.

"We will be departing for the Capitol immediately. I suggest you get some rest before dinner. You have a very busy few days ahead of you," says Icarus.

"I'm sure we'll be very busy preparing to meet our end in the most entertaining way possible. We wouldn't want to disappoint the Capitol."

"That kind of attitude will not win you sponsors, my girl," snaps Viola. She is clearly annoyed by me already, but I have come to the conclusion that I really just don't care.

Two Avoxes in simple white tunics enter the cabin and one of them approaches me, gesturing for me to follow her. She looks even younger and thinner than I am. What can she possibly have done to deserve her fate? I have seen many Avoxes before. They are a common sight in District 5, as they often come to collect paperwork for officials in the Capitol, but I still can't get used to them and the pitiful sighs that follow.

The chambers I'm given are about four times the size of my room in District 5. The first thing that I notice is that the curtains don't have a single hole in them. I walk around the room a couple of times, marveling at the luxury that surrounds me. This is when I realize that as much as I dislike Viola, she does have a point about resting, and it suddenly turns into a very appealing idea. I lie down on the massive bed and let the movement of the train rock me to sleep.