Rye's Story

by FeathersOfTheMockingjay

When President Snow's granddaughter is elected as president, trouble begins. The suicidal games have been brought back in after a vote, and Rye finds himself on the train to the Capitol with his teenage crush. Can they be saved?

2. Chapter 2: The Reaping

Hi :)

This is FeathersOfTheMockingjay here :D Just want to say that I'm really enjoying writing this fanfic- I hope everyone who has read the first chapter is too :P

Please leave a review, or Favourite/Follow the story! I promise you this FanFic will be jam-packed with exciment/feels/romance. . . Whatever xD

Anyways,

Enjoy Xx

Chapter 2: The Reaping

The thunder starts again, and I slip as I sprint through the tarred streets. It rumbles, pounding like a drum. The rain soaks through my thin shirt, and it blurs my vision, but I run on, blindly.

I reach the fence, and hurl myself over it, just as a crack of lightning hits a nearby tree. I shake my head, and continue running. The forest is a maze, trees appearing suddenly, so I have to dart out of the way only to be greeted by another thick arm of wood.

I look up, blinking madly as the water streams from the sky. A spark of lightning lights up the sky and I can suddenly see what's around me - but in a flash it's gone. Darkness envelops me. I stare around madly, counting the strikes. I rush forward, and trip on a root, sprawling forward, trying to break my fall with my hands. I land at a pair of boots, the person's legs hunched, head in hands. It's Juni. She looks up, her eyes red - she's being crying too. Her wild eyes are full of terror, searching for comfort within my burning coals. I attempt to get up, but the lightning strikes madly at a nearby tree. I cower back in to the sodden soil. Juniper screams, loud and frightened, and covers her ears with her muddy palms. I scuttle forwards on my hands and knees and lie back against the tree trunk next to Juniper. I glance sideways at her. She's still wearing my hoodie, except it's under her water proof jacket. She must of heard about the vote and rushed out here too."BAM!" It strikes again. Juni screams again, and lunges forward against me, throwing her arms around me. I clasp my arms around her shaking body. "Shuuushh, It's allright. It's just a storm!" I whisper into her ear, and she relaxes a bit. After a few minutes, she stops quivering and releases her grasp. "Rye. They've done it again." She cries, clenching her fist, "I can't believe they have brought it back. How could they be so flipping CRUEL!" She hurls a stick into the distance. I shiver, I have nothing to say except, "I agree - totally." She takes my hand, and pulls me upwards, so we're now standing in the rain. Her face is dirty, and pale, and blood drips down from a gash above her right eye. The thunder crashes, and she stares into my eyes, in total panic. "Juni - You're soaked!" I state, looking down at her soaked jacket and trousers. "Haven't you looked in a mirror lately!" She laughs, "you look like you've taken a dive in the lake."

"Come-on, we better get back or at least find some-" The lightning soars through the grey sky, and smacks into a huge pine tree beside us. Juniper throws herself into a hug, shivering wildly. I stroke her back with my thumb, easing her nerves. I grab her hand. "COME ON!" I bellow over the loudness of the rain, dragging her forward. I have to get out of this hell!

When we reach the fence, the rain has stopped, leaving us wet and clammy from running so hard. The sky remains grey - a dark cloud hanging over everybody.

I plonk down on the sopping grass - not like it's going to make any difference to my already soaked-through clothes. Juniper collapses down beside me. Her hair is sticking to her face, lose and tangled. She coughs violently and sniffs. I stretch out my hand, and shove it into hers. Juni looks up at me, her eyes brimming, and forces a reassuring smile. She squeezes my hand, and says, "How, HOW could they do this. . ." Her voice cracking up in an angry sob.

"I - I don't know. . ." I answer, unsure. "It seems like she wanted to carry on her grandfather's tradition." I spit out the word. "But I just can't take it, Juni, after what," I pause,"what my parents went through."

"They have to be stopped Rye." She says, through gritted teeth. "They. . . They shouldn't have done it." Her nails digging into my palm now, fighting back the anger. "People were just about to get there confidence back." She draws back her hand. "Sorry." She adds, looking down at the thin welts in my hand. "It's fine. It doesn't hurt."

There's a moment of silence, we're lost in through. Veiled by anger and revolt. I start up," Why don't we wait until after the vo-" I'm cut off by Juni. She looks at me, and whispers, "well you know how that will turn out." I frown. So does everybody, it's like hope has diminished into the soil of Panem.

I get up. Slowly. Turning to face the gate. "Rye." I look down, and Juni's big blue eyes stare up determinedly at mine. She brings herself up, her eyes now level with mine.

"I don't want to loose you. I can't." Her eyes full of pain now. I start to speak, but she places a grubby finger on my lip. Then takes both of my hands in hers. "No. Don't make it any harder then it is." She whispers, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "I'll probably see you tomorrow at the reaping." I nod sadly. "See you Juni." She looks down at our hands clasped together, the catches my glance, and turns away, and walks off solemnly in the other direction.

I mutely open the door, and step inside on the the colourful rug. I shake off my boots and bitterly climb the several flights of stairs to my bedroom. Opening the door, I tread wearily over to the huge window, and rest my head in my hands. The sky is transforming gradually into that burning orange shade. Like a fire ablaze in a hearth, or a campfire in the wood. I don't question why it was my father's favourite colour. It's beautiful. My head feels heavy rested in my palms. The vote will be taking place soon. I am drained of hope. They have done it again. Again.

I plod over to the shower, and peel off my drenched clothes, letting them fall casually on to the floor, as I step into the shower.

The hot water brings life to my aching limbs. It rains down on me pleasantly, slamming against my back, working it's way through my freezing scalp. I stand there helplessly, and the tears roll in. I can't believe this is happening. Twenty-SIX people are going to have to kill each other in a savage arena, when only one comes on top. Pure. Evil. I angrily swipe away the tears. I should be stronger than that! I sit down heavily on the floor of the shower, terror over coming me. What if I'm reaped? What if Willow is? What if JUNI is? I plonk my head in my hands, no stopping me now. I shake in anger and despair, and uncontrollably weep until my fingers and toes are shrivelled and wrinkled.

I heave myself up on to my feet, and step tiredly out of the shower. Grabbing a towel, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My eyes are red and puffy, and scrapes cover parts of my face and neck. I exit the steam filled room and pull out my pyjamas from under my pillow. They are checkered in design, and are coloured a lazy blue. I sling on the bottoms and grab an old t-shirt from my drawer, and leap onto the bed, and pull the covers up around me ears. It muffles the sound of the projector from Willow's room, and the soft music floating up from the kitchen. Slowly, reluctantly, I fall into a troubled sleep, disturbed by painful screams and tortured moans.

I hear the door being shut quietly, and footsteps finding their way around my messy bedroom to the end of my bed, where the person sits down. "Rye?" The soft voice wiggles it's way through the covers. I push the duvet from over my head, and come face to face with my Father. "Dad." I say gingerly, biting my lip to stop it from quivering.

He opens his arms "Come here." He exclaims, and I stare at him for a second, but lunge into his hold after remembering that I might never see him again. I might be one of those two kids. His grasp is firm, comforting. "Rye. I know how this feels. I had to go through it for 5 years." I break away and look in to his eyes. Genuine terror, worry. "Dad. I'm scared." I whisper, "What if it's me? Or Willow? Or Jun-" I stop suddenly, as my cheeks turn a bright red. He smiles down at me. "Aha!" He chuckles, "Is this why you've been sneaking off in to the woods every other morning?" His face has totally morphed, his mouth fixed in a side grin. I look down embarrassed at the bed. "Is she pretty? What's her name?" He quizzes me eagerly. I swivel my head upwards, and try not to make eye contact by staring out of the window. "Juniper. She's. . . Beautiful. . . Her eyes are the sweetest blue you've ever seen. . . She's named after that berry, you know? And - she's amazing with a bow - she sings like a mockingjay. . ." I trail off, and return my gaze back to my Dad.

"I'm so proud of you Rye. You're an amazing kid." He gives a reassuring smile, but his eyes are sad. "If you get called into that arena - me and your Mum will to everything in our power to help you. We'll think of something. Trust us. We don't want to lose you two." Water swims in his eyes, but mine are like a water tap. I sniff and swipe angrily at the paths of water on my cheek. "Dad - I'm worried about Mum." I state worriedly. He glances out the window for a moment himself, surveying the fiery sky. "Your Mum was always scared about having kids. She didn't want to harm them in any way. So The Hunger Games being possibly recalled is like a living nightmare for her." I nod. He continues, "Here - come have some dinner. It's past eight," and climbs off the bed. I follow him hesitantly out the door.

I pick edgily at my bread, lost in thought. Mum emerges from her bedroom, and sits down on the wooden seat. Dad nods to her as if confirming something. She takes one of my hands in hers. "Rye." I jerk my head up from the bread. She opens her mouth to say something, but the screen on the wall ignites suddenly. She appears on the screen. The woman who called all this upon us. I clench my fist. "Greetings from the Capitol!" She smiles a fake smile," The votes are in! I will now announce the results." She looks at a card in her hands. When she brings her head back up to face the camera her smirk is real. "As follows: The Hunger Games will be brought back to the districts. Positive votes leading by just two. The reaping will take place tomorrow morning in District 13 and in District 12 at noon. May the odds be ever in your favour." The screen goes black. I sit, my mouth hanging wide open, my vision fuzzy. They've won. It's all over. Innocent children are going to be reaped tomorrow. The truth sets in. Mum cries out in agony, and I hurl my half-finished bread at the screen. Willow runs down the stairs her eyes wide in terror, and collapses into Mum's arms. My stomach lurches, and I throw up the contents of my dinner. This can't be happening. I wipe my mouth, and run up to my bedroom and slam the door behind me. "AGHHHH!" I bellow, and fling myself onto the bed, diving under the covers, and burying my head under the pillow. My breathing slows, and I calm down slightly at muffled silence. I calm myself down eventually, and drift off.

I can't see anything. I am submerged in darkness, blinded. I feel movement beside me and squint into the darkness. A girl walks right up to me, she looks strangely familiar, and whispers, "WHERE'S PEETA?! GIVE HIM TO ME!" She melts back into the blackness. The scene changes. I am in a dessert, surrounded by sand. Juniper runs up to me. Or is it Juni? She wears a shirt around her head, and is covered in scars. A boy suddenly sprints up behind her wielding a dagger. I don't have time to scream, and the dagger plunges into her skull.

I wake with a start. Drenched in sweat, I glance at the clock, 10:47. I had kicked the covers off and they lie in heaps around my ankles. The light streaming in through the slight gap in my curtains is murky, lurid. I leave the bed and pull back the curtains. The sky is grey and overcast. It suits the mood. Today is the reaping. The end of freedom. The day when we are finally contained once more by the Capitol.

After dressing, I leave the house without talking to anyone. I don't think I could manage discussing today's events with anyone, so I head out of the village, up to the meadow. When I reach the huge old willow, and put my hands on the gnarled bark. So many memories are hidden away in my mind including this tree. It is the root of my story. I turn away, leaning against the trunk. I survey the city. A dark feeling is draped over all the miniature houses, like a storm cloud hanging over every person in the district.

Then, a singing emerges from the wood, and a little bird comes swooping out of the canopy of green. It sails through the depressing sky, and lands on a branch somewhere in the maze of hanging vines. It whistles, a simple four note tune that caresses through the valley. I shiver runs from the back of my neck, and down my back. I jerk my head upwards and gaze into the heart of the willow. I spot the mockingjay, and stand up slowly. Still facing towards the bird, I gently raise my left hand to my lips, my three fingers and thumb and pinky tucked under each other. I raise my arm out above my head, and echo back the eerie whistle.

I swivel around and start to head across the the meadow, the long grass tickling my ankles. Just before I reach the edge, I hear a cry from above. The mockingjay swiftly swoops and ducks in the grey sky. I salute again, and walk into the town, my head staring at my muddy boots.

The neatly folded clothes lie innocently on my bed. I slump on the bed, my hands over my face. My eyes bore into them for a few minutes. Who knew clothes would reduce a fourteen year old to tears? I sigh, just as the doorknob turns, and Mum enters. She sits down on the bed beside me, and wraps her arms around me tenderly. "Rye?" I nod at her. "Be brave. Be strong. Be the boy I know you are, courageous, smart. . ." She pauses for a moment, then smiles,"and handsome." I roll my eyes, and grin. "I have a feeling I'm not the only person who thinks that either. . ." Her eyes brim tears, but her face is smiling lovingly down at me. "I love you Mum. Thank you so much." I feel the sprinklers coming to life, as I picture all the amazing memories I've had with my Mum. She gathers me up in a tight embrace again, and I feel and hot tear splash onto my mop of hair. I break away. "I'll - I'll get changed now, Mum." I motion to the clothes still untouched on the mattress. She forces a smile again, and leaves the room, leaving me, again, alone.

I queue silently behind all the fourteen year old boys from district 12. My shorts are beige, and I wear a crisp, newly ironed shirt. My feet feel heavy, and soon, it is my turn to walk up to the desk, but my shoes are rooted to the ground. I force myself forward, shaking, my hands quivering. "Name?" The lady says, seated at a desk which is covered in different piles of paper. "R-Rye. Rye Mel-Mellark." My voice stutters, just like my hands. She hastily grabs my finger, nearly yanking it out of its socket, and pricks it, so a pool of blood wells up on the tip. My face turns white, as she presses my index finger brushes against the page.

I determinedly push one quaking boot in front other, until I find myself waiting with all the other terrified faces. I survey the crowd like a hawk. Where's Juniper? I spot her finally in a array of other brown haired girls, all conversing with each other nervously. She catches my eye, and gives my a supportive smile, which quickly vanishes, replaced by a vacantly anxious expression.

I return my attention to the stage. A woman with dreary white hair, wearing a plain white t-shirt, and some faded jeans steps up wearily onto the platform. Oh God. It's Effie. I clamp my hand over open mouth. She looks so faded. Glum, depressed even.

"Greetings." She throatily speaks into the microphone, quickly checking a piece of white card folded in her wizened hands. "Now, the time has come to choose one lucky. . . Boy and girl tribute," she rolls her eyes, and then throws the cards over her left shoulder, and walks in a miffed fashion over to the big bowl on the right. "Um. Ladies first!" She brightens up her tone and reaches into the bowl, swirling her fingers around in the sea of sealed pieces of paper. She stops suddenly, hovering over a patch, and draws out a neatly sealed envelope, a clone of all the others in the bowl. Her old frail hands affably breaks the tape with a bitten fingernail, and clears her throat. I cross my fingers for luck, my heart pounding in my chest. It almost feels as if my empty stomach has risen up my oesophagus, into my dry mouth. ". . . . And the female tribute for District 12 . . ." I hold my breath, my heart racing, ". . . Juniper Thorne. . ." I can't think. My mind racing. No. No. No. No. NO! My stomach tenses, and a sick feeling overwhelms me. This can't be happening. IT CAN'T! I clamp my hand over my mouth, and I quickly push my way through the crowd, before the vomit rises up out of my gut. I bend over, coughing and spluttering. Wiping my mouth with the back of my sleeve, I catch Juni's eyes. They stand out on her snow-white face, glinting with terror. "And now for the boys." Effie stares at me, and pauses for a few seconds, lost in thought, then returns her gaze to Juniper. She shakes her head anxiously, and plunges her hand into the bowl, picking out another identical envelope. Junipers face is wide in panic and terror, her breaths short and rapid. Effie peels open the piece of paper. Walking up to the microphone, she surveys the crowd with sorrowful expression laid on her wrinkly face. She looks down. "The Male tribute- Rye Mellark." Everyone turns to me, frightened whispers rippling through array of children, adults and seniors. I hear a scream, Juni collapses on the stage, her hands covering her shaking face. "No! NO! PLEASE NO! NOT HIM! PLEASE." The tears run down her face like a never-ending waterfall, and whispers, "please. . . No." I spin my head around terrified. This is it. I trudge up to the platform, spotting Mum in the crowd. She rocks back and forth on the ground, her hands clutched over her ears. I force myself not to cry. I can't look week. I can feel everyone's eyes pressed to my back as I climb the steps. Effie motions to me, beckoning me to the spot opposite Juniper. She is being held up by two men in suits, crying uncontrollably. "Shake hands." Effie says blankly, staring and my Mum. I stretch out my hand, and Juni's warm palm presses into mine, her eyes meeting mine. We let go, and two other burly, suited men grab my arms. "No! Let me say goodbye!" I scream at them. They pull me towards the doors. I try to take as much in as I can. I'm never going to see this place again. The woods. The meadow. The willow. Actual Willow. I'll see Dad and Mu-" I cut myself off at the thought of her having to mentor her own son. The men tug me in and slam the door. My breathing quickens, and I think, it's all over. As I realise that I am about to be thrown into a death match with the girl I love.

REMINDER: Please leave a review, or follow/favourite this story. . . It really means alot 3

Hopefully next chapter uploaded in the next week or so. . . Kinda busy atm.