*Standard disclaimer applies. Here's chapter 2!
Today is the day of the reaping, and I just can't wait for the day to be over. Each year, this day casts a silence on the whole district, parents muted by worry, relief, and compassion, children resorting to hushed what ifs and pleas. Throughout all of 12, those who have no one to worry about in the reaping are made solemn by memories of their friends, relatives, and loved ones that have been lost to the Games.
And then there is after the reaping. It's almost worse than before. People celebrating their own security, almost as if they don't understand how shallow it is. So you, your child, your brother of sister didn't get called. There are plenty more ways you can die just as easily in the District; starvation, freezing to death, coalmine cave in, sickness, fire. But still, except for the families of those unlucky two, once the Tributes are gone, the District breaks into celebration.
Everyone, that is, except Ma. When my brothers were younger she seemed to share some of the fear that other parents shared, but over the years she has shown less and less care for the emotions of everyone around us. But then, after the Tributes are gone, she becomes silent. In that way we are alike, neither of us ever feel much like celebrating at the woes of others.
A lot of times I feel sorry for Ma. I sometimes think she knows Pa has always cared more for another than for her, and it has made her bitter, and that bitterness has been absorbed into every ounce of her being. I feel that bitterness in the way she has been a mother to me, see it in the way she bakes the bread. You can learn a lot from the way a person makes bread. The way Pa gently folds and mixes the dough tells you he loves his work, and it's the same way I frost the cakes. But Ma… She pounds the dough. Beats it down, throws it against the counter, and slams it into the oven. Only when she removes the pastries from their pans and places them in the displays and she sees that she has accomplished something does she display anything but her usual though exterior.
This morning is all wrong for this day. It's bright and clear, almost hopeful. Besides all that though, it starts out like most days do for me. I rise when our rooster begins crowing, dress, and begin my chores. First I will help either Ma or Pa mix the bread and cookie dough, and the batter for pastries, muffins, and cakes. Then it's out to help my brothers care for the animals until it's time for breakfast.
Breakfast is always the worst meal of the day for my family. It's at breakfast where our bread is the most stale, and where Ma is grouchiest, always fretting over the day to come. By night her cares are usually appeased by the sales of the day, and we all eat better on the item we didn't sell, but don't want to keep over night.
Today we must prepare twice is much in the morning to sell. We will close the bakery for the reaping, and open it soon after, and we must be ready to go all out when we reopen. Reaping day is usually one of our best business days with all the people rejoicing their safety and others purchasing tokens of condolences. It's also one of the rare days when Ma bakes for the family afterwards. I suppose, in a lot of ways, it's how she expresses her relief and despair at the end of the day. However, what it means the most is that today I will be busy.
At the reaping I stand with my brother and several of our friends from school. Watching everyone arrive is one of the most emotional parts of the day, knowing that when it comes time to leave, not everyone will be able return home. As I watch, part of me is just watching, and part of me is searching for someone; Katniss Everdeen.
At this point in my life, I've begun to accept that I have basically wasted eleven years of my life pining after Katniss without actually doing anything about it. At first I was mostly just shy, and didn't want people to the think I was weird for wanting to talk to a girl, but that excuse can only work for so long. Eventually the other boys in the district began taking an interest in girls, but there were still some things that held me back. For one, I was always more of a quiet person. Sure I had plenty of friends, but it's almost hard to not have friends with brothers like mine. I suppose it also had something to do with the way people listened when I did speak my mind. I apparently had a knack for storytelling and being expressive with words, though a lot of times I find expressing myself through the icing on a cake is much more relieving.
Building on that, Katniss was so… unreachable. She was the kind of person that it took courage to say hello to, and even more courage to wait for her response. And even though I had had opportunities to be around many of the other girls our age, most of them, except Madge, the mayor's daughter, were nothing like Katniss, and therefore did little to help.
Finally, there was the problem of the other guy. Not much to explain there, just a lot to figure out.
No matter to all of that though. I could still look for her today. The girls always look exceptional at the reaping, and for once, Katniss was never the exception. Finally, I saw her arrive with her little sister, Prim. Pa has always said Prim looks exactly like her mother did when she was younger, and if what he says is true, I can definitely see how Pa fell for her as adorable as Prim is.
Soon everyone has arrived and Effie Trinket comes to the stage to announce the tributes. It's time for everyone to say their final prayers, pleas, and promises to fate, ask that their luck pulls through. The children with tesserae count their odds, something I'm am beyond grateful I don't have to do.
Then the first name is called. It's Prim. In that instant, I know what will happen next, and my heart breaks. It's then I realize just how much one can care for a person without actually knowing them, because I know that it's not going to be Prim going into the Hunger Games, it's going to be Katniss, ever striving to protect her family.
Sure enough, Prim doesn't even make it a foot away from her sister before Katniss is pulling her back, insisting on taking her place. Katniss' friend comes to retrieve Prim, and in that moment I truly hate him. He should be saving Katniss, telling her to stay, even though she would never listen, but still… And it's not just all that! He is the one there for her in this time. Even if she were to return after this, he would automatically be where her heart was because he was the one to help her rescue Prim. As I watch Katniss climb the platform, I know that my chances at what I wanted out of life are gone.
And suddenly that knowledge doubles, because my name has just been called, and I know as a fact that my days are numbered; I refuse to return if she won't be here.
So… ummm, yeah. Hope it wasn't too terrible!
