The Reaping

Everywhere was dark. The twisted roots of the trees beckoning me to my doom and the caw of a Jabberjay broke through the silence. I tread slowly and silently through the trees, weapon-less, bloody and afraid. Behind me the trees seem to be getting closer and closer together forming a wall of wood impossible to break through, yet before held nothing but darkness. The sound of my own beating heart filled my ears making it impossible to hear anything else and the darkness thickened before a pair of red eyes shone through the darkness.

When I awoke I was gasping for breath and stuck to the sheets with sweat.

'Just a dream Nelda, it was just a dream.'I said aloud, wiping the sweat from my face I was startled to notice I was shaking; Lord, if I was this frightened from a dream of the Arena what would I be like if I or David was chosen? The very thought of it sent a chill down my spine.

'Nelda? Are you awake?' my Mother called through the door

'Yes, barely' I replied

'Well hurry and get out of bed, it's the Reaping today and we can't be late.' Boy she sounded as strained as I felt.

I swung my legs out of bed and gazed down at my bare feet resting just above the thick carpet, please don't let me be chosen, I thought before slowly standing to face what the day may bring.

….

The number of bodies being pressed into the square of District Twelve was becoming meaningless. It appeared the entire town had turned out to witness which of their children would be chosen for death. We were herded into pens like animals and I began to feel the tension of the others around me as we were pressed closer and closer together until I was raising my face to the cold, grey sky above to breathe.

A slow hush began to work its way through the crowd as the Mayor, John Chapmell, made his way to the front of the stage to survey the crowd before him, even from the position I was in I could make out the sadness in his face.

'Good morning all on such a joyous day,' Chapmell began, his expression accenting the dislike he felt at the statement he had just made, 'I hope all of you are most excited to discover the tributes of District Twelve!' the angry murmuring from the crowd contradicted this statement instantly. 'Before we begin I have an announcement! As the Hunger Games are being re-discovered it is time for District Twelve to re-discover their last victors! Victors that shall become mentors for out new tributes! I have the greatest pleasure to call to the stage Peeta and Katniss Mellark!'

My head whipped around to gaze at my parents and felt chills go through my spine at their expressions.

'Peeta and Katniss Mellark, make your way to the stage!' Chapmell called to them gesturing rapidly.

My Mother moved first, face deathly pale and fury sparking her eyes she claimed the arm of my Father and slowly began to make her way towards the stage.

'There we are! Ladies and Gentlemen make way for Mr and Mrs Peeta Mellark, victors of District 12!'

Chapmell began clapping enthusiastically. His clapping stilled almost immediately as he realised it was the only sound to slice through the near silence broken by the sound of my parents footsteps as they slowly ascended the weather-beaten steps to the stage. Silently my Father shook hands with mayor whilst my Mother stared stoically ahead, her arms down by her sides and fists clenched despite the bandages being slightly tinted with blood from her wounds. Chapmell held his hand out to my Mother; it was met with coldly glaring eyes and a thinning of the lips.

'Well then,' Chapmell said rubbing his hands together, 'lets welcome our representative from the Capitol! I give you Raphael Loki!'

Upon these words a man strode through the suddenly open doors at the back of the stage; his hair was a bright cerulean blue, as were his matching eyeliner and eyebrows. His suit was a dull gold with black shiny shoes which could only be worn in the Capitol where the polished streets and roads could never scuff or scratch the polish. During the pestilence the Capitol had closed its gates and left the districts to battle through the disease themselves, their excuse, to help stamp out the disease. Whilst the Capitol 'sacrificed' themselves to isolation they became 'institutionalised' which basically meant that they reformed to being soulless dream-sucking fiends again.

'District 12! I am Raphael Loki!' upon the last phrase Loki flung his arms out to accept applause, he received none. Clearing his throat in embarrassment Loki slowly drew his arms back down to his sides. 'Well then, let's just get down to business. Ladies first seems to be the tradition, but let's be spontaneous and have Gentlemen first as it is the first new Hunger Games, let us create a few new traditions!'

Crossing to the large bowl, in which every boy from the district had been entered once, Loki's feet echoed across the square. He quickly dipped his hand into the bowl and pulled out a small slip of paper which carried someone's fate upon it. Crossing quickly back to the microphone Loki opened the slip, reaching the microphone he paused and surveyed the square.

'The male tribute for District 12, Jared Kingly.'

A shriek from the parent pens broke the still air and I turned slightly to see a woman I assumed to be his Mother collapsed to the floor shaking uncontrollably; turning to the male pens I saw Kingly. His face had gone the pale white of the dead and his eyes had a wild look to them.

'Jared Kingly!' Loki's voice rang out throughout the square. Kingly didn't move simply stared straight ahead.

'Move you idiot,' I muttered under my breath. As though he heard me from 4 meters away, Kingly shook himself and strode towards to the stage, head held high.

'There's a good lad,' Loki said when Kingly reached him, 'just stand over there beside your mentors,'

Kingly strode over to my parents, my Father grasped his shoulder in support.

'And now onto the ladies!'

My breath caught in my throat as Loki marched his way across the stage to the female ball. After brief rifling through the slips he withdrew his hand grasping a death slip. 'The female victor from District 12 is. Nelda Mellark!'

Everything slowed down and all I could hear was the pounding of my own heart deafening me. "Nelda Mellark!" I still didn't move, I didn't even blink. Someone behind me pushed me forwards and I stumbled into the spotlight.

'There she is ladies and gentlemen our female tribute for district 12!'

I was suddenly surrounded by Peacekeepers in their silly white jumpsuits and guns. 'Move Mellark,' one of them grunted. Accompanied by my entourage I walked stiffly to the stage. As I approached the shallow steps I glanced at my parents. My Father looked as horrified as I expected him to, yet my Mother merely looked at me as she had gazed at Kingly; like I was just another tribute and not her daughter. I felt my heart tighten and the strange urge to be sick. We are made to shake hands, the tributes, at the top of the steps and then stand on either side of Loki who placed his hands on our shoulders.

'Ladies and Gentlemen the tributes for District 12!'