The Reaping
Author's Note: It's my first Hunger Games Fan fiction. Please be kind. I did proof read but excuse any mistakes I made. I will try to lessen them in future chapters. Take care, CB
Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games, the plot, any of the character, etc. All that belongs to Suzanne Collins. I just like to play round with her character.
She's lying down in the lush grass that covers the entire clearing. Flowers of all colors move back and forth from the gentle breeze. Her blonde hair shines in the bright sun. Her long lashes gently brush her cheeks. Her face is free of strain and worry lines. She looks beautiful. I lean forward and bring my fingers to her forehead where a few strands of her blonde hair have escaped and tuck them behind her ear. Gently, I continue to run my fingers from her forehead to the apple of her cheeks. The girl's cheeks feel too cold. I'd imagine them to be warm to touch but they're not. That's very odd. I move my fingers to her lips but they too are cold. Confused, I bring my fingers to her neck where I feel warmth from a red liquid that is starting to cake and dry on her skin. I lift my fingers towards me to examine the strange red liquid that coats my fingers when the girl snaps her eyes open to reveal cold blue irises. "I am dead. You couldn't help me," she accuses me in a raspy voice. Then she lets out a blood curdling shriek that rings throughout the clearing.
My eyes snap open. My shirt is soaked from the sweat and vomit. I reach under the table to my stash of alcohol and grab the bottle. I take a drink and sit back in my chair and try to forget the same nightmare that signals start of the day I dread more than any day of the year. It's reaping day.
I hate this day. No doubt I will fail this year too. I try even though citizens of District 12 think otherwise. Most tributes from twelve are scared, malnourished and weak. They give up the moment their names are called by the escort. Now, not all the tributes I have gotten in my twenty-three years of mentoring are weak. Some do put up a fight but they are never strong enough mentally or physically to defeat the Careers of District 1, 2 and 4. Nevertheless, I always feel as if I have let my tributes down. I feel we would have more winning tributes if we weren't at such a huge disadvantage. Other District tributes work in their respective district fields; children from District 7 work in the lumber mills, children from District 11 work in the farms. District 12 gets the short end of the stick because children here don't work in the mines until after they're 18 years of age. They don't learn how to blow up mines or set mining traps until after when they aren't of reaping age. That is if they survive the reapings.
I take more gulps from the bottle in my hand. My raging headache won't stop but at least I am starting to feel numb from the drink so I drink some more until there are repeated hard knocks on the front door.
"Haymitch, it's reaping day. Get out," a voice in front of the door shouted. I try to shut the voice out in hopes that whoever it is will leave me alone but the person doesn't let up. "Haymitch! Open this door right now or else we will break down this door."
I get up on unsteady feet and clutch the table for some support, grab my bottle, take a drink and continue towards the door. I loosen the locks and throw the door open to see two peacekeepers standing. They look pissed off. Good.
"Welcome! Welcome! Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor," I try to mimic our District escort, Effie.
"Cut the shit, Haymitch." Cray snaps. "You stink! Get yourself presentable".
"Sorry if I hadn't dolled myself up for you two."
Cray and Darius exchange a look before they drag me back into the house, grab the nearest shirt from the floor and toss it at me. "Change now Haymitch. It's reaping day. Don't make a scene and shame your district in front of Panem."
I stare at them before I give in and take off my soaked shirt and chuck it on the floor. I change into the shirt that Darius holds out to me. All the while I glare at them.
"Let's go!" Cray demands as he grabs my upper arm and starts to drag me out the door. I fight him and try to get out of his grip. For an old man he sure has a strong grip. I move around and turn to grab my bottle from where I left it on the table when I was made to wear this shirt but Darius grabs it and moves it out of my reach. I glare at him with all the ferocity and anger I can muster up. I try to punch and kick Darius when he comes to grab my other arm but my hands or legs aren't functioning like I'd hoped they would.
They drag me across the Victor's Village and towards the town square. I am thankful they both helped me get to the square for I would never have gotten there on my own. But I am not going to tell them this. Let them think I hate them and I do. I am pushed through the crowds of parents clinging to each other and towards the stair leading to the stage. I holler and yell swear words at Cray and Darius for taking my drink but the words just sound unintelligible to my own ears. I stager onto the stage and fall into the third chair set up.
I try to squint through the bright sun that makes my head even more. My vision starts to become hazy and bleary. I close my eyes and wish I had my bottle to drown out the eerie silence that fills the square until I hear applause from the crowd. I think the ceremony has already started but I am not sure. I turn to my left and try to give Effie a big hug to welcome her to his joyous occasion but she cringes away in disgust. I wish something would drop out of the sky and stop Effie from pulling out two names that will haunt me in my dreams. I will her to stay in her seat and save two families from grieving tonight. The mayor calls up Effie and she trots up to the podium as quickly as possible.
"Happy Hunger Game! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" She chirps brightly only to be met with silence from the crowd. Like every year, Effie says "Ladies first!" and shuffles towards the glass ball that holds the names of all eligible girls in District 12. She puts her hand into the ball and pulls out one slip and walks back towards the podium.
I lean forward not in anticipation but in fear for the poor girl whose name is written on that slip. In a loud and clear voice Effie reads out "Primrose Everdeen."
I look into the crowd and see a little blonde haired girl standing alone as the girls around her move away from her like she has some contagious disease they don't want to catch.
This Primrose Everdeen has blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She doesn't look like she's from the Seam but she's quite skinny like the Seam kids. This girl is too young to die. All the girls standing are too young to die. People in the crowd whisper unhappily to each other as they realize that a little twelve year old is about to face her death.
I lean forward some more as I try to observe Primrose while she starts to walk down the aisle and towards the stage to take her place as the female tribute. This girl will die for sure. She's too small and innocent looking. I am sure she doesn't know anything about survival or how to wield a weapon. I highly doubt that she's hiding any ability behind that petrified expression on her young face. I see Primrose lying in the same field as Maysliee from my nightmare. She has blood soaking her clothes and cold, dead blue accusing eyes that stare back at me.
Thankfully, my nightmare is interrupted by a voice that rings clearly throughout the square and I think that maybe something did fall out of the sky and we don't have to have this reaping. But once again I am not so lucky to escape this ordeal.
The clear voice shouts "Prim! Prim!" and the crowd parts to let a dark haired girl through and towards the stage just as Primrose is about to climb up the stairs. The older girl pushes Primrose behind her and shouts "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"
I stare in shock and I think I might have been fantasizing this but the crowd, peacekeepers and Effie must be fantasizing with me because they're all as shocked as I am at this dark haired girl.
This girl is almost the exact opposite of Primrose. I am sure she's from the Seam with dark hair and grey eyes. She's more agile, taller, and stronger and she's got guts to volunteer for this younger girl. This girl stands a chance to come close or perhaps win this year. I am quite satisfied with choice of the female tribute this year. District 12 finally stands a chance. I see a small spark of hope that possibly this girl will make it home.
Effie seems to be the first one who breaks out of the shock at the sudden change of events and starts to rant on about the process of volunteering until the mayor shuts her up and urges the dark haired girl forward.
Primrose is screaming frantically at the dark haired girl as she wraps her skinny arms around the older girl. "No, Katniss! No! You can't go!"
"Prim, let go!" Katniss angrily tries to shake off Primrose. "Let go!" But Primrose doesn't until another dark haired boy lifts her up and forcibly pulls her away from Katniss. Katniss then mounts the steps and starts to make her way up the stairs.
"Well, bravo!" Effie cheers happily. She's no doubt happy that all eyes will be on her when the reapings are recapped this evening. "That's the spirit of the games!" She grabs Katniss around the shoulders and moves her towards the podium. "What's your name?" Effie asks and the girl steadies herself before she replies "Katniss Everdeen".
I am surer that this girl will be a winning tribute now that I know why she volunteered in place of her sister. Even I want to give her a thank you for the most courageous and brave act I have seen in my lifetime. No amount of love will save anyone from the reaping but this Katniss has found a way to make sure that her sister can be saved.
"I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we?" Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!" Effie smiles.
I have never felt such a strong urge to hit sometime until now. This woman cannot possibly find joy while watching children die. It's inhumane and cruel. Thankfully, the entire District seems to disagree with this appalling woman standing up on stage and quietly stares ahead of them. They don't say anything but their silence says everything. Then something amazing happens when the entire crowd touches three fingers of their left hands to their lips before raising them up in the air towards Katniss.
My hatred for the Capitol and love for my District gives me strength to get up on unsteady feet and make my way over to Katniss to congratulate her for giving the Capitol the ultimate middle finger. I throw an arm around Katniss' shoulder. "Look at her. Look at this one!" I shout off towards the cameras that surround the stage, filming everything. "I like her! Lots of... spunk!" I raise my hand victoriously. "More than you!" I release her shoulders and walk forward towards the cameras while shouting "More than you!" as I point directly at the cameras near the stage. I want to shout more things at the Capitol but my body has a mind of its own when I lose my balance and plunge off the stage, to the ground and fall into unconsciousness.
I wake up just as someone drowns me in cold water. I sputter and cough as I glance up to see Darius fighting a smile while looking down at me. Cray stands behind him probably pissed off at me for doing all the things he told me not to do earlier and his anger makes me feel much better. I am in a tub, in Victor's Village and I think they maybe want me to shower which is confirmed when Cray walks closer and glances at the device he holds in his hands. "Take a shower Haymitch! You have ten minutes before we have to make sure you're on that train to the Capitol. We're waiting outside." And with that he leaves and Darius follows behind and shuts the door. I can help but smile at their pissed off expressions. I find that greatly satisfying.
I stand up with the help of the wall and turn on the shower. I hate these Capitol showers with all their fancy gadgets, scents and perfumes. I'd rather wash myself with coal scented soap than any of the fake scents available to me. I finish and dress in the clothes that lie on the bench near the far wall and go outside to meet Darius and Cray.
Cray gets up and motions for me to follow towards the front door. I ignore him and walk towards the table and pick up my forgotten bottle and take a big gulp before I see a hand snatch away my precious bottle. "Dammit, Haymitch! We're going too late for the train." Darius glares.
Cray turns around to see all the commotion and growls before he walks back to me. "Are you stupid? We need to get going. You have pulled enough shit for today. What were you thinking taunting the Capitol on stage? Are you trying to bring more trouble to this District? Why don't you try to stay sober so you're able to shut your mouth?" Confused, I stare at Cray. Did I taunt the Capitol? I don't remember doing that. Shit! I probably did do that. It definitely sounds like something I'd do. I open my mouth to tell them to screw themselves but I don't. Cray sighs and helps Darius drags me out "They'd probably overlook it since you're famous for liking the bottle too much."
Things are a quiet while we walk through town and towards the Train Station. "Who was the male tribute?" I wonder. Darius answers me since Cray is still pissed off at me. "Peeta Mellark! The baker's youngest boy."
I contemplate this new information. The Baker's boys are strong, big and I have seen them all lift heavy sacks of flour and other grains around town. From what I have heard from my rare trips to town that they are very skilled and kind boys. I just hope Peeta is strong enough to kill when he has to. He should be physically fit since he's from town and the Baker's kids look relatively better fed than many of the Seam kids. I am happy at this year's tributes. Katniss and Peeta both looked to be good tributes. I just hope they are skilled in some weapon to give them a fighting chance or else they'll be eaten alive by the Career tributes.
We make it to the Train Station and Cray all but pushes me into the train, brings up his little hand held device and commands the driver to shut the door to my cart. I want to hate Cray and Darius but I can't muster up any anger. All I can feel is trepidation and fear that I may once again fail this year. I turn around and walk through the carts and towards the bar cart. I grab a new bottle, open it and collapse on a sofa. I take big gulps and try to zone out the dread that fills me when I think that Katniss and Peeta just said good bye to their families for the final time. I take another big gulp and will myself to try and forget this terrible nightmare.