Okay, so I was reading the Hunger Games again and I though there is so much we don't know about the years before this one so why not? I hope you like it :D
Reaping
District 7
Tiberius
I open my eyes in the middle of woods, absorbing the smell of pine wood that surrounds me. I should be working. Every other district gets a holiday on the reaping day. But we don't. We have to work all the way through.
But I don't feel like working, the pine air is so fresh and invigorating. I think about Lyra at home, getting ready for her very first reaping. I remember mine of course, I was terrified, but she isn't. She knows the odds are in her favor: her name is only there once. But mine is 6 times now and our luck is that we can survive without the tesserae.
Another year has passed and the people from the Capitol demand more entertainment for their stupid little lives. When I was younger I used to wonder if the Games would ever stop, but after learning about the past 58 years and the 23 tributes that died in each one of those years, I just sunk back into reality. Everyone is much too afraid to rebel against the Capitol after the Dark Days, and our best hope is the Capitol getting bored with the annual bloodbath.
The bell that warns us that our work day is over goes off earlier because everyone has to be by the town center at 10 AM. Everyone has to watch the reaping; everyone has to watch the misery of two young teenagers being dragged up to their death.
When I get home, Lyra is sitting by the old wooden table of our small kitchen wearing mom's clothes because we don't have anything fancy around here. She wears a grayish blue dress that goes wonderfully with her blonde fair hair. The dress is tightened in the waist by a ribbon that she can't tie alone, so I kneel and tie it for her.
"Where's dad?" I ask her, while she hugs me as she does every time I get home from work or school. I work too because we wouldn't have enough if only dad worked in the woods, and his bone problems are getting worse as years go by, he can barely move in the winter.
"He's in the room. Crying." I should have figured. She's wearing mom's clothes. Our mother died a couple of years ago when a tree fell on her and she didn't survive the smash. My dad was there, and as much as he tried he never got over it, not even for his own kids. But he didn't die emotionally. No, he kept working. He knew he had two kids at home that reminded him of her so he kept feeding them and making sure they were alive and safe. He was never the same, but he never gave up on us.
As we pull apart I looked over at her and she's crying. Neither of us likes crying so she quickly explains herself "Maybe I should take the dress off and just take an old skirt or something, I don't want to see him like this. Maybe I should just…" she sobs.
"No. It's okay. Mom would love it that you're wearing it. And you look beautiful." I tell her as I kiss a falling tear in her cheek. She smiles.
"Can you get him? Because I don't think I can handle seeing him like that." She admits. I nod. She was 10 when mom died, I was 15. It was difficult on both of us, but to her was even harder because she was the one who had to take care of my dad while I worked.
I go get dressed, some clothes that were my dad's when he was younger, we really can't afford anything fancy for reaping day, so we just get what we can.
I open the door to his room and see him lying on his bed, crying. I should comfort him, but the reaping day always makes me angry. Not with people in general, but with the Capitol, and I can't exactly yell at the Capitol without getting killed, and right now, I'm all sustenance my sister has. "Get up" I tell him. "We need to go. It's time." He looks up, red-eyed, and I try sending him a smile, but it quickly falls.
As me and Lyra leave the house hand in hand, I think what I think every year on this day: If I get reaped, then Lyra has no one that can bring food to her table, she would die of hunger. We don't have any family left beside our dad that can only work in the warmer days of the year. I tell myself every year that if I don't get destined to a brutal death in the arena that year, then I would go make friends that guarantee that Lyra survives. But I never make them. I'm not exactly a social person.
When we reach the town square, it's already filled by dozens of teenagers that fear for their lives and by their families that are forced to watch. I have to let go of Lyra now, because I have to go to the front rows and she has to go to the back rows. I watch her go, slowly, joining the other kids of her age. She doesn't look afraid, she looks nervous. She's brave like I wasn't in my first reaping.
Our escort, Fulvia (who is just a sad person really, overly excited about the bloodbath of young kids that will come) arrives and starts talking too excitedly about the 59th Annual Hunger Games, about how the Capitol has new technology that will make things a lot more interesting so we should all watch it (like we had another choice).
This sad woman with green hair doesn't really care for manners so she starts off with the boys. She digs her hand all the way to the bottom of that glass bowl where my name is 6 times now. Her hand stays there for at least 30 seconds, which is too long. She is teasing us, leaving us desperate.
Finally she takes out a paper.
And I guess I won't make any friends this year to keep my sister alive because it's my name.
All the fear I had from my first reaping when all this was new to me came back. I start climbing the stairs to the fake stage that was placed in the middle of the square and I join Fulvia who smiles radiantly at me and I can see she has three golden teeth. I look away from her and search my sister in the crowd. For the first time since mom's death, I see her terrified, and my dad just looks like he got slapped and is still in shock.
I try to look determined. I might just as well, for the sponsors. I have to return so I can come back to Lyra. I can't leave her with just dad; I don't even know how they both will survive without me, the one who brings the food to the table. But what do I know? I only know how to use an axe, I have no idea how to hunt, I'm too heavy to climb threes, I don't know how to hide and I have no idea what is safe to eat. I'm doomed. I'm gonna die in the arena.
I force myself to stare at disgusting Fulvia again; she has silver tattoos all over her skin. She's making her way to the girls bowl. Just like with the boys, she takes an eternity to choose a piece of paper, but she picks one.
She reads it aloud and the only thing I can do is swallow so I won't scream
It's Lyra. It's my sister.
I panic.
I panic because of everything.
Because my sister is going to an arena filled with trained killers. Because I am going to an arena filled with trained killers. Because we are both going to die there. Because my dad is going to die without us.
I see her climb the stairs to join me in the stage, holding back tears and I can't handle it anymore, I look desperately to the crowd with intense eyes, begging them to volunteer for her, because she is nothing but a purely innocent 12-year-old, because she is all I have left.
Some people look down, like my intense looking blue eyes make them uncomfortable, or maybe it's just the whole situation of a brother and sister going to an arena waiting for certain death. Or even because they know me or know Lyra and feel bad for us, I don't know. But no one replaces her.
I can't even look at my dad, what his face must be like when you know your two children are going to die.
Fulvia is talking and the governor appears to tell the story of Panem but I don't listen to a word of it. I'm too worried and too in shock to do anything.
It takes me less than a second to acknowledge that I will sacrifice myself in every way for Lyra. I will protect her until I die. Who knows, maybe I can bring her home. If my death means her safety then I am more than willing to do it.
But I'm not much of an advantage in the Games, I don't know how to do much and neither does she, so I guess, we won't form alliances or anything because no one would really want us, now would they?
If Lyra gets back, she'll be rich, and she will live in one of the District Seven's house in the Victors' Village, but she will live alone, because I'm ninety-nine percent sure my dad will die. He can't work, we have no one who is willing to care for us but ourselves, and if the emotional trauma of loosing mom almost killed him, I can't imagine what losing both his children while he watches it on our small television without anything he can do, would do to him.
The governor's speech is over and now I'm supposed to shake hands with Lyra. The gesture feels so formal it's infuriating, because we are so close.
She looks at me while we shake hands, her innocent blue eyes that match mine are filled with tears, I'm not sure she is more worried about her being in the Games, or me being in Games.
Peace keepers take us to separate rooms in the Hall of Justice building, but I really don't see the point: I'm not gonna kill her, she is not gonna kill me, for heaven's sake we are siblings! So what's the point? But they separate us all the same. Our dad coming to see me first, and then her.
"Tiberius" he says as he limps into the room. I go to the door and hug him. He's my dad and he's always been there for me, and now we are both facing certain death.
I hear him cry, and I can't help but to cry too, then I pull away, red-eyed. "I'll save her" I tell him. "I'll save Lyra while I'm alive" he just nods, he knows me, he knows I would do it and he knows there is no way of unconvincing me now.
We hug again and a peace keeper comes and tells him he should go see his daughter. The peace keeper is breaking the rules by letting dad go see Lyra because the visiting time is over. I thank him, and he just nods. Lyra would feel horrible if she didn't say goodbye to dad, especially after refusing to face him while he was crying. I wonder what he is saying to her. I bet she's apologizing to him because of the dress, being the angel she is.
We leave the Hall of Justice and get in the car with Fulvia and our mentor Lartius (we used to have two mentors, but the oldest one died a month ago: my luck is that great) and head out for the train station.
It turns out that, despite being weird and over excited, Fulvia is also compassionate, so she lets Lyra sit by my side, her head in my lap, crying. Crying like she wanted to do since my name was out. I just sooth her hair slowly as she sobs into my lap, trying not to cry myself.
