My prep team didn't lie about the new trains. They really are much faster than the one I embarked in six months ago. It's crazy; you can't even feel the train moving. I guess that's what they meant when they said that it was more comfortable. A few wagons have been added too, including a bar one; I guess the mentor from district twelve will be happy about it. I smile at my own thought but quickly stop. I shouldn't shame him for the way he deals with his pain. If it wasn't for Mags, I too would've picked up some destructive habits. In the past few months, I've learned that it's really easy to let yourself go if you have no one to help you get back together.

The horizon has swallowed the ocean a long time ago, yesterday in fact, but I can't keep my eyes off where it used to be. When I left for the games a few months ago, I really thought that I would never have to feel this strange mix of emotion as I watch the sea disappears. From now on, I will have to live this every year. The door slides open and Mags enters the living room.

"Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm fine. Do you know when we're going to arrive?" I ask.

"We still have a few hours before we reach District twelve. We're going to stop soon in a station in nine for a few minutes."

"We're already close to nine?" I ask, completely shocked.

"Yes, but we're really far from the district center."

I'm a little bummed out by this but I guess it's better than nothing. Mags starts laughing at my saddened face before reminding me that I'll get to see it on our way back.

"Look outside..." she says, pointing at the window with a smile.

Curious, I turn around to see a magical landscape. Snowflakes are slowly falling from the sky, melting as soon as they touch the ground. It's the first time I see real snow; I've seen a lot of it on TV. It feels so weird but exciting at the same time. All of these new things I saw so far only remind me how far from home I really am. I'm scared to see what the next three weeks are going to be like, but I know that each second I spend in the train will be the best part of the trip. As a curious person, exploring Panem has always been part of my dreams. I just hope I could've done it under different circumstances. Maybe one day I'll get to do it as a free man.

"What does District 12 looks like? You went during your Victory Tour, right?"

"I was sixteen and things were very different back then, Finnick." she says, laughing. "It was more than 50 years ago; I'm pretty sure my experience has nothing to do with what you'll see."

"You're probably right."

We spend some time like this, both looking out the window as the delicate white snowflakes fall from the pale gray sky. It doesn't take long before we cross the tall gate of district nine and the train starts slowing down. I can't see it, but I'm sure we've reached the station Mags was talking about. Just as she said, we only stay there a couple of minutes that I spend looking at the almost still scenery. If it wasn't from the snow, I could easily think that it was a picture or a realistic painting. It looks so calm outside; it looks so indifferent to the violent world we live in. When the train starts moving again, I feel kind of sad to be leaving this spot that I'll never see again. Before we exit the district, I manage to catch a glimpse of a huge field where they probably harvest grains that could feed families for a year but is kept for the Capitol to waste. It wasn't until I was part of the Hunger Games that I realized how easy it was to get food in my district, even if I didn't have something to eat every day. At least, people in four are able to go fishing outside of their working hours to bring something back home. Everywhere else, it's different because even if you work past the end of your shift in the fields, you're not allowed to take something home. I dream of a day where we'll be able to feed everyone without any problem but most importantly, a day where we'll be free from the Capitol.

As the hours go by, the snow slowly starts becoming a more important element of the background, covering anything I can see. It's weird to think that just this morning, I was playing in the sand on the beach close to my previous house. In my hand I keep playing with Cedar's wooden ring as we pass through a forest filled with tall trees that the winter has made leafless.

"I've always found it weird to see trees without their foliage." I tell Mags.

"I always thought it was beautiful." she answers, looking at the tracks going on behind the train. "It's beautiful because where many people see death, decay and loss at the sight of the empty branches, I see life, possibilities of a better future. Sure, the old leaves were pretty but there comes a point where you have to let go in order to move on and embrace the idea of a better future. Of course, it's always a risk; the trees don't know if the next leaves will be as beautiful as the last ones or if they will even grow back but they trust the process. Moving on is never something easy, but I keep telling myself that if something as simple as a tree can do it, then so can everybody."

As she stops talking, I turn my head backin the direction of the window, trying to process her theory. In a way, I knowit was aimed at me and that she's right. Maybe I should do like the trees andtrust the process; maybe I'd get better too.