A/N: This story was originally for a contest on Tumblr, but things didn't work out. Instead of crying about it and deleting it, I decided to post it over here so it can (hopefully) be enjoyed by everyone! Thanks to my BFF, Suz, for encouraging me to do this!
Johanna Mason
Victor of the 71st Hunger Games, District 7
I wake in my usual way: head buried under my pillow in an attempt to block out the dawn's light, covers up to my chin with my toes slightly peaking out and my throat dry, begging for a drink of water. The only thing that sets today apart from all the other days is the fact that it is Reaping Day. I shuffle out of my bed, take a small sip of water from the glass on my dresser, and stare at my reflection.
My grandmother always tells me I look like my mother. I have her dark brown eyes, dark hair and tanned skin. I never met my mother — she died a few hours after I was born — so I have to go on what everyone else tells me. My father tells me she kept her hair long. That's what I loved about her, he always says. I guess in some small way, that's why I keep my hair long while the other girls in my district keep it short. It's dangerous to have long hair when you're trying to cut down trees.
I've also been told I have her tough, 'no-nonsense' attitude. I hardly ever laugh at jokes or make small talk. There's nothing really that special about me, although I would never admit that out loud. I'm just me. Plain old Johanna Mason.
I finish brushing my hair into a ponytail and secure it with a tie. I put on my work jeans and purple plaid top. Even though it is Reaping Day, we still have to work. I'm sure other districts have it good: they don't have to work today. They probably get to wear good clothes and spend time with their families. Every year the Reaping falls during our busiest time of the year. Granted we only have to work half a day, but it's still not fair. I guess I should be used to that by now.
I walk the short trek to the woods where I meet up with my father and brother, Jarrod. They're always up before dawn and ready to work. I pick up a nearby axe and start working away at the nearest marked tree. I listen to my father and brother's conversation about where the lumber from this section will be going. Half of it will go to the Capitol, while the other half to District 1. Figures, they get the good stuff first, then the rest of the districts get the scraps.
My brother starts laughing at some joke my father heard. I can't help but smile. Jarrod is twenty-one and has a way of making me smile. He doesn't live with us anymore since he married last spring. His wife, Alice is nice and very pretty. They just had a little boy, Alex, a few weeks ago. I've only held him once and he threw up on me, but it's okay. That's what babies do. Since Jarrod lives separate from us, he has his own quota to fill, but he always wants to make sure my Dad finishes his first. My Dad threw out his back two years ago and it still gives him problems, but we can't afford to miss making our quota. I help out once in a while. Technically, I'm not supposed to, but the Peace Keepers turn a blind eye. When I'm 18 I will have my own quota to fill. I'm only 16, but I'll be 17 in two weeks.
A long whistle rings in the air, stopping me from swinging my axe. My stomach starts to do flip-flops. I set my axe down and glance at my father and brother. Jarrod smiles, sets his axe down and walks over to me. He doesn't look a thing like me with his dark blonde hair and green eyes. He's well over six feet while I only come up to his chin. He grabs my shoulders and crouches down so we're eye to eye.
"District 7 has a large population of youth," he says, rehearsing the speech my Dad used to give him before the Reaping. "You have no tesserae, so there's a low chance you're going to be called." My father would never see that Jarrod or I put in for tesserae. He always said he would rather eat dirt. "You're going to be fine, Jo."
I nod my head as he grips my hand. All three of us walk to the center of the district. We stick to the side of the road as old trucks pass us. We don't have a truck since we live less than a mile from the center. As we get closer, I see how large the crowd is getting. A long line forms at the check in counter where Capitol workers take our blood and get us into the computer system. I stand in line and watch as my father and brother take their spots with the other parents. I soon see Alice standing next to Jarrod, watching my Dad hold Alex. He's playing with my Dad's hat and smiling.
"Hand, please."
The Capitol lady dressed in white tears me from my thoughts. I give her my left hand and she pricks it with a needle, drawing a few drops of blood. She presses my finger on the page of a book before ripping it out and throwing it in a large glass bowl.
"Next!"
I step aside and walk up the path to find my age group. Since I'm 16, I am towards the back. My only friend, Amelia, waves me over to stand by her. She looks more like the other girls from my district: short auburn hair, green eyes and olive skin. She grabs my hand in an act of reassurance before letting it drop back to my side. Before I can say anything, Lavender Grey welcomes us to the Reaping — as if we had a choice.
"Welcome to the 71st Hunger Games," she sings in a syrupy-sweet voice. "And may the odds be ever in your favor."
As normal, Lavender starts the Reaping by going through Panem's history and briefly talks about the uprisings. No one knows much about what happened; most of it has been erased from our history books. Go figure. All we know is what we are told.
"Let's start with the ladies, shall we?" Lavender asks the crowd, as if they have a choice either.
Her porcelain hand slips into the glass bowl and swirls around the pieces of paper. She plucks one from the mound and brings it close to her body. She unfolds the paper and takes a big breath before leaning into the microphone set in front of her.
"Johanna Mason."
My stomach drops and my eyes go wide. Holy crap, that's me!
"Oh, Jo!" I hear Amelia whisper. She placed a hand on my shoulder. Suddenly two Peacekeepers are at the end of my section, waiting for me to step out. The girls around me back away, no longer having anything to do with me. God, I'm not a leaper, you idiots! I step out to the aisle and make my way towards the stage. My heart feels like it is going to explode. Even though my legs feel like jelly when I begin to make my way up the steps, I refuse to take Lavender's hand she extends.
I look out into the crowd and see the girls my age stare at me, mocking me with their green eyes. I scan over to the family section and find my father in the crowd with his hand covering his face. Alice is gripping onto Alex as she cries; Jarrod is trying to comfort her, but is clearly not succeeding. Suddenly, I feel drops of water hit my cheek. Weird, it's not raining. I wipe them from my face, but more keep coming. I'm crying? Great, the one time I cry in my life and it has to be for all of Panem to see.
I quickly wipe away my tears as Lavender goes over to the boys bowl to draw out a name. I'm in the middle of giving myself a pep talk, so I don't hear whom Lavender calls, but I see a large boy, probably around my age, step out into the aisle. He has on tan pants, a red and white plaid shirt and green suspenders. I don't recognize him, so he must be from the northern part of District 7. He steps on to the stage and walks past me. Holy hell, he's huge! He's probably taller than Jarrod.
Lavender has us shake hands before whisking us away to the Justice Building. I turn around and begin to search for my family.
"Where are they going?" I shout.
"There, there, dear," Lavender says. "Your family will have a few minutes with you to say their goodbyes."
I know she didn't mean that in a bad way, but it just sounds so heartless. Lavender directs me to a small room, probably a judge's chamber, to wait for my family. I sit in silence for a couple minutes before my father enters the room. Jarrod is closely behind with Alex.
"Where's Alice?" I ask.
"She couldn't handle it," Jarrod whispers. I forgot, her younger brother was reaped a couple of years ago. He didn't make it two days in the Games. Jarrod hands Alex to me and I hold him. "Hopefully he won't throw up on you."
I smile weakly at his joke. I stare at my nephew for what is probably the last time. It's a shame, really. I'll never get to see him grow up, never teach him how to cut down a tree or tap for syrup. He'll have to hear stories about me from his dad and grandpa, just like I do about my own mother. I give Alex a kiss on the forehead before returning him to Jarrod.
"You're going to be okay, Jo," he says. "We'll be here waiting for you."
Jarrod wraps and arm around me and gives me a tight hug before leaving the room, giving my Dad and I a minute alone. His eyes are glassy, like he has been crying. Of course he would never admit to that. Us Masons never cry, he always says.
"Dad?"
"Johanna, did I ever tell you how your mother and I were engaged?" I shake my head. He smiles before proceeding to tell me the story of how they broke the news to her parents. "Her parents hated me. They didn't like the clothes I wore, how I styled my hair or how I spoke. But we didn't care. Soon, they saw how much love I had to give her and that's what mattered."
He wraps me into a hug and kisses my head. Here is where I feel safe. Nothing can hurt me here.
"I love you so much, Johanna. So did your mother," he pushes me upright and looks into my eyes. This is probably the most serious I have ever seen him. "We will all love you no matter what. Whatever you have to do to get back home, we will still love you."
I nod my head at his words. He wraps me in another hug while we wait for the Peacekeepers to fetch me. Right on cue, the door bursts open and two men dressed in white collect me, ripping me from my father's arms. Anyone else would scream, but I will not give them or the Capitol that satisfaction.
I turn around to look at my family one last time. I give a small smile to my father and Jarrod as the Peacekeepers lead me away, soon blocking my view of my family. I feel the tears build in my eyes once more, but quickly wipe them away before they land on my cheeks.
Once on the train, Lavender introduces us to our mentor, Blight. He stands at about six feet and has — what else! — auburn hair and green eyes. He competed in the 51st Hunger Games when he was 17. I don't remember how he won, but I know it had something to do with an axe.
After introductions, I find out that my other district partner is in fact from the northern part of the district. David is 17 and comes from a family of seven. Instead of coaching us tonight, Blight encourages us to eat and rest. We'll be in the Capitol tomorrow morning.
I can't even think about food at a time like this. Instead, I ask Lavender to take me to my room. She takes me to the last cart on the train. My very own sleeping cart. She bids me goodnight and shuts the door. Finally, alone at last! I lay back on the plush bed and replay today's events: being reaped, holding Alex for the last time and hugging my father.
I'm not sure when I fell asleep, but the next thing I hear is Lavender at my door, telling me to wake up. I look outside my window and see a horizon filled with ivory towers and golden tops. This must be the Capitol. As we wiz by, I see hundreds of buildings in odd shapes: domes, octagons and squares. There is no tree in sight.
I leave my cart for the main seating room and find David, Lavender and Blight waiting for the train to stop.
"Are those your clothes from yesterday?" Lavender asks with a disgusted tone.
"What's it to you?" I snap back.
Lavender bristles at the comment but says nothing. Blight gives a small smile as David looks on at the crowd forming at the train station. The doors open to the large crowd and suddenly my hearing is limited. The noise is deafening. Capitol citizens cheer for us, shout our names and wave their hands in the air. This is so unreal, so unnatural, so, so…Capitol.
Lavender and Blight lead us to a large car, which takes us to our "home away from home." I roll my eyes as Lavender tells a story about her teenage years; once again, Blight catches me. Soon enough we're riding in the elevator to the seventh floor. Lavender tells us we have the entire floor to ourselves, but before we can explore, we must be fitted and dressed for the opening ceremonies tonight.
My stylist's name is Percy. He's small for a man, but still taller than me. I guess the towering lumberjacks in our district are a rarity in other places. I'm soon fitted for my outfit and ushered in the elevator to the welcoming hall. I catch sight of myself in the elevator's reflective surface. I'm a tree. A stupid, frickin' tree. I'm not even a maple or a pine tree.
"Dear, what's wrong?" Lavender asks me.
"We look stupid," I yell. "We're oak trees. They're not even from our district!"
Lavender's mouth hangs open, as well as David's. Seriously? He of all people should be on my side.
"It's not polite to mock the hard work of your designer," Lavender says through clenched teeth. I roll my eyes at her and walk out of the elevator when the doors open.
Lavender shows us to our chariots and we get in. Once we're in the arena, David starts to wave to the crowd. He begins to laugh a little when people throw flowers at us. I, on the other hand, am wide-eyed. There are tons of people — hundreds, no, probably thousands. They're cheering so loud I can hardly hear my own breath. I'm sure Blight would prefer I make nice and wave like David, but I don't want to. I owe these people nothing.
After President Snow's speech, we are taken back to the staging area and helped out of the chariot. Blight soon takes us back to our floor where we head to bed. Before I can find my room, Blight takes me by the arm.
"Johanna, what are you playing?"
"Excuse me?" What the hell is he talking about?
He chuckles and releases my arm. "I'm getting a mix personality here and I need to know how to play you. Are you a shy, fearful girl like the one who cried at the Reaping? Or are you a smart, angry girl like the one in the elevator?"
"I've never cried a day in my life until yesterday," I snap.
Blight gives a hearty laugh. It reminds me of my father's. "I think we should play you as timid and scared."
"I'm not scared!"
"I never said that," he corrects. "However, I think sponsors will respond better to the shy, beautiful girl from District 7. Do you agree?"
I nod my head yes, but I checked out when he called me beautiful. Nobody, besides my own family, has called me that before. Blight sends me off to bed, leaving me with my thoughts. How in the world am I going to play shy?
Perhaps in another world I am an actress. It's scary how easy it is to play a timid 16-year-old tribute. During trainings I keep my eyes at my feet, whispering my responses when asked questions. The other tributes look at me and shake their heads. They know I am no threat. Even when we show the Gamemakers what we can do, they shake their heads at me. They gave me a score of three after I picked up an axe and tossed it towards a dummy, missing its body by two feet. If only they could really see what I can do with an axe.
So here I stand in my glass tube, waiting for the Games to start. Blight is on the other side of the glass, keeping me company until I ascend.
"Remember," he says. "Once the time is right, don't hold back."
I nod my head and feel the base below me shake. I am soon taller than Blight and then in the arena, blinded by the bright light. I crack open my eyes to find the rest of the tributes. We surround the silver cornucopia and its bountiful gifts: weapons, food, tents and even boxes of clothing. Thankfully Percy made sure I had all of the clothing I would ever need already on me: thick wool socks, corduroy pants, a long sleeve shirt over a short sleeve shirt and a brown rain jacket.
As the countdown begins, I look around and see the other 23 tributes. Half are eyeing weapons they want to snatch while the other half are finding spots in the nearby forest they want to hide in. I take a deep breath and smile at the smell of pine. This is home to me. Soon enough the gong rings and we are off our podiums. I immediately run for the forest, snatching a small green pack on my way there. I can hear the clashing and clinking of metal in the distance, but I keep running for cover. I stop when I am deep in the woods. I find a large hallow tree on the forest floor and tuck myself safely inside.
This break gives me the opportunity to catch my breath and see what it is my pack. I have a small empty water bottle, a tiny tube of iodine, a small pack of matches and a roll of linen fabric. I pack everything up and wait. I'm not sure what I am waiting for, but Blight told me I would know it when the time is closer.
Just before I fall asleep, Panem's anthem startles me. I peak out from my tree and watch as the faces of the fallen tributes shine against the night sky. Fifteen tributes are already dead, including David. I start to wonder what happened to him, but I stop myself. I can't change it, so why bother? Instead, I say a silent prayer for him and his family.
Nine tributes are left: myself, the pair from District 1 and 2, the boys from 4 and 11 and the girls from 5 and 9. I wonder how long they will last; I can't technically sit here and wait without food and water. I decide to stay here for the night and sleep.
As soon as dawn comes, I gather my belongings and head out in search of water and food. I find some blackberries along the way and timidly put one in my mouth. It tastes good and after a few seconds of waiting, nothing happens, so I figure they're safe. I quickly pick the rest and pop them in my mouth along the way. After what feels like hours I hear the rushing of water. I lose all my senses and run after the sound, only to suddenly stop when I see the Career pack ahead of me. I dart behind a tree, pressing my back to its rough bark.
"I think the boys from 4 and 11 are camped this way," one Career says.
"We found the girls back this way, half a mile apart," another says.
"What about the girl from 7?" a Career boy asks.
"Please," another boy laughs. "She's no threat at all. I'm sure if one of the others doesn't get her, some wild animal will."
I hear the snapping of twigs as they move out. I am about to take a step out from my hiding spot when I hear the two from District 2. I peak around the tree and watch them speak to each other.
"There's not many left," the girl says. "We should take them out tonight."
The boy brushes her hair off her shoulder. "Relax. Once we pick off the two boys we'll take care of the District 1 tributes. Together."
The girl nods her head and they walk off. As soon as they're gone I quickly remember why I was there — water! Right in front of me is a small spring. The water drips from a couple rocks and lands in a small pool. I dip my bottle into the pool and squeeze a few drops of iodine into the bottle. As I wait for the water to purify, I walk around in hopes of finding a new hiding spot.
I find one in against a mound of rocks with large slabs of bark lying against the side. The trees surrounding me are giant sequoias, something that I've only seen in pictures. They are impossible to climb, but thankfully provide as a perfect shelter. I finish off the rest of my berries and wait. I hear a two cannons boom and I can't help but wonder if they were the Careers or boys from 4 and 11.
A few hours later I find out: the two Careers from 1. I guess the District 2 Careers figured they could handle everyone else without the added help. Fine by me. I'll be ready for them.
I remain in the same spot for probably a couple days. My hiding spot is perfect and I am nearby a water source. Not even the boy from 11 saw me when he ran by, shortly before the boy from 4 killed him. Since then, the two girls were killed. All I have to do now is focus on the two Careers and the boy from 4.
My stomach begins to growl. Do I leave my secure spot and search for food or wait? Thankfully it's not a tough decision to make when I hear the chiming of bells. I gasp as a silver parachute flutters from the sky and drops an axe right in front of me. If it weren't for Finnick Odair's golden trident from a few years ago, this would surely be the most expensive sponsor gift.
I pick it up and hold the axe in my hands. I run my fingers along the wood handle and touch the red blade. It's real. I then see the attached note to the handle.
Happy 17th birthday, Johanna. Now is the time.
Today is my birthday? It's already been two weeks since I was last at home?
I tear the note from the handle and place it in my pack. I sling the green bag over my shoulders and leave the security of my cover spot. I hold the base of the axe in my right hand and the neck in my left as I make my way through the forest. I no longer have the timid look on my face. I'm determined to win. I will be going home.
The sound of a cannon stops me in my tracks. Who can that be? I continue walking towards the cornucopia, figuring at least one of the Careers would be camped out there. I snatch a couple more blackberries from the nearby bushes and pop them in my mouth. I need all of the energy I can get. After hours of walking, I am soon at the cornucopia and just as planned, two Careers are sitting under the shade of a canopy.
"So predictable," I mutter. I realize that this is the first time I have spoken out loud since the Games started. I quickly form a plan. Instead of going to them where they have an advantage, I would lure one out to the forest — my advantage.
I quickly throw off my pack and take out my matches. I gather a few green leaves and light them on fire. Smoke instantly fills the air, including my lungs. I cover my coughs as I take cover behind a nearby tree. Soon I hear running and see the Career girl looking around. I slowly make my way from behind the tree to her. I see a knife hanging from her belt. Like, seriously? Do you always go around unarmed?
A twig snaps beneath my foot and the girl flips around, her eyes wide in anticipation.
"Boo," I whisper and raise my axe. She doesn't have time to respond as my axe soars in the air and lodges in her stomach. She drops to her knees and clutches her stomach, looking up to me in surprise. "Still not a threat?"
She closes her eyes and falls to the ground, landing on her front. A cannon sounds and I blow out a breath that I didn't even know I was holding in. I can do this. Just one more.
I make my way out of the forest and rest at the tree line. I spot the remaining Career tribute sitting in a foldable chair, his back against the forest. What balls.
The soft grass in the meadow provides the perfect silencer. The Career never hears me coming until I purposely clear my throat.
"Did you get her, Dia?" he asks.
I roll my eyes at that ridiculous name. "Sorry, Dia is indisposed at the moment." The boy jumps up from his chair and brandishes his sword in the air. I resist rolling my eyes again. "Are you sure you know how to use that?"
"I was the highest ranked in my swords class," he responds in a matter-of-fact voice. "Do know how to use that?"
"I harvest lumber for a living, you moron," I smirk. "Besides, I did take care of Dia with this."
His face turns angry and he soon lunges after me. He tries to drive his sword through my left shoulder but I dodge him, hitting him in the neck with the butt of my axe. Before I can get a good swing he sends a blow to my head with his fist. I stumble back and feel his foot make contact with my ribs. I am soon on the ground, starring up at him. He has blood trickling down his face from a cut I must have given him on his forehead.
He makes a move to swipe me with the sword but I block it with my axe, knocking his weapon from his hands. I kick him in the gut, sending him to the ground. I quickly get up while I have the upper hand. He sitting up, bent at the waist when I send the first blow of my axe, gouging his shoulder. He falls back to the ground in pain.
I stand over him and watch as he holds his shoulder and squirms on the ground. From the looks of it I can already tell this blow is fatal if it's not treated soon. He knows this, too.
Part of me is in horror of what I am doing, of what I have become. My family is watching this. My father's words ring in my head: we will all love you no matter what. Whatever you have to do to get back home, we will still love you. I wonder if that remains true at this very moment. I think of Alex. What will he say to me when he looks back at these Games? How will I explain what was going through my head? I can't do this now. I can't worry about it. I need to survive. I need to go home.
I want to whisper my apology, but I don't. The look in our eyes says it all. Some things are just better left unsaid.
I position my hands on the handle of my axe, just as I would if I was splitting hunks of lumber for firewood. I raise my axe in the air and watch as the Career tribute nods his head, silently making his peace with death. I bring my axe down, lodging it in his chest, sending blood everywhere. I move my axe back and forth trying to loosen it from the tribute's body. I'm sure this scene is horrific, but leaving it in his chest is probably far worse.
The final boom of the canon goes off and everything seems to go bright. The wind picks up as a hovercraft makes its way down to the arena. A streak of blue light casts down on me and I freeze once I grip the outstretched ladder.
Finally. I'm going home.
Just a note, Annie was reaped in the 70th Games and Johanna the 71st. They're so close together, it's easy to mistake. :)