A/N: Sorry for not updating before now, I have exams and school is killing me. If you like this please review! x
CHAPTER 2: THE REAPING
"You look so handsome, Haymitch."
"Thanks, mother."
Haymitch was dressed in gray pants with braces and a white shirt. The black shoes on his feet had once been his fathers.
He felt even less eager for the reaping after his visit at Phenelope's house. If one of them got into the arena he didn't want their last words to each other to be screamed in anger.
He loved her so much that his heart ached, and that's why he had gone mad at her.
It was all the Capitol's fault. It was always their fault.
Haymitch looked at the clock. Only one hour left.
"Where's Septimus?", he asked.
"Here", a voice said as the door to the bathroom opened.
Septimus was a 15 year old, good looking boy with dark hair and gray eyes. Both he and Haymitch were found attractive to the girls in school, but while Haymitch didn't make any closer relationships to any of them (Phenelope was an exception), Septimus was very popular with many friends. He had a new girlfriend every second week, basically. Haymitch didn't understand how he could do like that. The more people you knew the more you had to say goodbye to.
"Time to get up, sleepyhead?", Haymitch asked him. "Did you forget your clothes in wonderland?"
Septimus was dressed in only his underwear, showing his muscular body. The lack of hair on his chest reminded Haymitch of how young he was, how young they both were. His brother was indeed strong and with his face it wouldn't be very hard to get sponsors, but would he stand a chance against the careers in the Games?
"Um, yeah", Septimus replied confused, as if he had not noticed that he was half naked until now. "Mom, do you have any clothes for me?"
"They're on the chair, sweetie. And please hurry a little, we need to go soon."
"Yeah, yeah..."
Septimus looked calm just as always, and his eyes were focused when he dressed. Septimus and Haymitch were just the same in that way. They didn't cry, at least not in front of others, because crying didn't make any difference. They didn't laugh, because they had nothing to laugh about. Always that serious face. "Mysterious" people called them, but really the two brothers were just realistic.
Septimus' clothes were nearly the same as Haymitch's, but except of braces he wore a blue tie. Haymitch couldn't help but smiling. Septimus had always hated ties.
"So", Septimus said as he tied the tie with a grimace, "what do we eat for tonight?"
Haymitch raised his eyebrows.
"Sep, we're about to get reaped and all you think about is food?"
"I'm just trying to optimistic! It's a chance in a thousand that one of us get picked anyway.", he said with a shrug.
"Well, what if we both get picked?"
"Oh yeah, that's likely..."
"It's not impossible, Septimus!"
"Haymitch, I just asked about the fucking food, for fuck's sake..."
"Not that language!", their mother said angrily. "Your brother is just caring about you, Septimus. Now apologize."
Septimus rolled his eyes and muttered:
"I'm sorry."
"Never mind."
They sat silent at the kitchen table, not looking at each other. Mrs Abernathy tried to cheer them up.
"We're eating potatoes and squirrel tonight. You found some katniss yesterday, didn't you, Septimus? Maybe we could have it too."
"Sure."
Septimus had been out late that night. People from school thought that he did it to defy the regime, but sometimes he went out in the middle of the night, just walking around at the meadow. To forget. Because if you lived in district 12, it didn't matter how many friends you had or how good looking you were. If you got reaped, no one would no longer care enough to volunteer. The Capitol could take your family, your friends, your home, if they wanted to. They were nothing but puppets in their show.
Once, when Haymitch was younger, his classmate Ayla got reaped, only 13 years old. In the arena she hid at the edge and refused to kill or even make allies with the other tributes. The gamemakers tried everything, they started a fire and even sent dangerous mutations after her, but she didn't give in. When it was only her and two boys left, she stole a knife from one of them and committed suicide.
Suicide wasn't enough entertainment for the Capitol. The whole plot with the Games was to watch the kids kill each other, the more brutal the better. Suicide wasn't acceptable. One day when Haymitch and Septimus were out selling geese eggs, they saw Ayla's father being forced on knees and shot in the head by the peacekeepers. Just a loud pang, and then it was over. It wasn't even much blood. Ayla didn't have any siblings, and the few times Haymitch saw her mother, she was walking around confused as if she was looking for something.
When you got reaped, the Capitol didn't only hurt yourself. It hurt your family and friends too.
"We should go, boys", his mom said and waked Haymitch up from his thoughts.
"Yes, of course", he said as he stood up.
He dragged in Septimus' tie and forced a smile.
"May the odds be ever in your favor, little brother."
At two o'clock they were standing at the square. He could hear Septimus joke around with his friends behind, even though he knew that his brother wasn't as tough as he made himself. Their mother was with the other adults and the children that were too young to participate in the Games.
Haymitch, Septimus and the other boys were standing in a roped area, with the oldest in the front and the youngest in the back. Haymitch couldn't help but wonder which of them they are gonna loose this year.
His eyes searched for Phenelope, and he found her with a few other sixteen-year-old girls from the Seam. She met his glaze and waved at him with a strained smile. He smiled back at her, with a fear that it could be the last time he saw her smiling.
A lady with a big green wig stood up at the stage in front of them. Her name was Amelia Erwin, and came to district 12 every year to escort the tributes to the Capitol. She couldn't be older than max thirty, but with all her make-up she looked like fifty.
It was obvious that Amelia Erwin hated her job. Since district 12 was the smallest and the poorest of all the district, we had only won the Games once in 50 years. Amelia wanted a promotion to a better district more than anything else, but she wouldn't get it as long as her tributes kept loosing.
She cleared the throat and spoke:
"Welcome, everyone, to the reaping of the 50th annual Hunger Games! It's so nice to see all of your happy faces again!"
Haymitch looked around, and he couldn't see a single person looking happy.
It was dead silence, and Amelia cleared her throat again to break the awkwardness.
"Anyway, as usual, we will let the mayor speak. This information comes all the way from the Capitol, so listen carefully!", she smiled and stepped back, and their old mayor took over the microphone.
He started talking, and on the big screen behind him showed pictures from the old days, and he told us reason why we forced children killing each other in a large arena every year. Like if we didn't already know.
Glory. Freedom. A second chance. Yeah right.
Fifty years ago, the thirteen districts of Panem upraised against the Capitol. Many people were murdered, district 13 was destroyed, but in the end the Capitol won anyway. They always won against the districts.
As a punishment for the uprising, each year the twelve districts would offer one young man and woman in the age of twelve and eighteen by random, and throw them into a competition with 24 tributes, and only one survival.
Haymitch didn't know his district's only winner personally, but had seen him at the reapings the years before. Cordo Inchcape was a man in his late fifties, and had won the 11th annual Hunger Games. He spent his days smoking cigarettes and had, just like Phenelope's mother, cancer, but unlike her he hadn't tried to get any better but just kept smoking his lungs out. Haymitch wondered if that was his plan in the end, to get himself killed. Haymitch couldn't even imagine what it was like in the arena, but the things you'd see there must make horrible things with your mind.
The mayor finished his speech and sat down on his chair again.
"That was beautiful, truly beautiful, mr mayor", Amelia said into the microphone. "People of district 12, let's give your mayor an applaud, shall we?"
They still didn't move, and her lonely claps echoed in the square.
"Oh well", she said and stopped clapping as soon as she understood that she had probably embarrassed herself in fron of her friends in the Capitol. "We better get started! After all it's Quarter Quells this year!"
Every 25th year it was Quarter Quells in the Hunger Games. Of course Haymitch wasn't born during the last one, but he knew pretty good what it was about. At the Quarter Quells the gamemakers would make the Games even a little harder than usual. During the 25th Hunger Games, there were no reaping. Instead, each district had to choose two tributes to fight to the death in the arena. To be honest Haymitch rather wanted to be picked at random then hearing your own neighbors saying that they want you dead.
Now, at the second Quarter Quell, twice as many tributes would be fighting in the Games, two girls and two boys from each district. Twice as much chance to get reaped.
"Ladies first!", Amelia said and giggled in her usual, girly way.
She went to one of the big glass bowls on the stage and carefully chose one of the paper slips. She stopped for a moment and looked curiously on the name, as if she didn't know how to pronounce it.
That's good, Haymitch told himself. Phenelope's name can't be difficult to say, even for a Capitol citizen.
But was it really good? Even if Phenelope didn't get picked to fight to her death, another innocent girl would. Of course it wasn't good.
After talking to the mayor, Amelia Erwin finally seemed to know how to pronounce the name.
"Hrm, excuse me. Fiaaané... sorry, mr mayor, what did you say her name was?", she whispered as she turned around again.
Even though the serious scene, Haymitch had to bite his lip to not burst out in laugh. The name was probably not hard to pronounce at all, Amelia was just too stupid, just like all the people from the Capitol. They were filmed live, but he was almost sure that all this would be cut from the tape later.
Amelia's cheeks were now red as fresh tomatoes, and she mumbled the name quickly:
"Fannia Duncain!"
Haymitch had never heard her name before, but when she went up on the stage he suddenly recognized her. She was two years younger than him, he thought, and due her looks she probably lived in the Seam. In school she was very special and always sat by herself and played with sticks or spoons. Maybe she was sick in some way, mentally.
Amelia showed her where on the stage she should stand, and then Fannia just stood there in her simple blue dress, looking down at her hands, which squeezed each other nervously. Poor girl.
The second name dragged from the girl's bowl was obviously not as strange as Fannia's, because Amelia didn't need the mayor's help this time.
"Maysilee Donner!"
Blurry memories flashed through Haymitch's mind: a young girl from the richer part of the district, with blonde hair and eyes as blue as the sky on a sunny summer day. Every time she saw Haymitch on the square, she convinced her mother to buy one or two eggs from him. It was strange, because she always seemed to know when they didn't have much money at home, and then she sneaked some extra coins into his hand. Her mother never noticed, and neither did Haymitch before he counted them back home.
Haymitch had always felt attached to Maysilee in some way, not because of the money, but because she was one of the few persons who were actually nice to him. They never spoke to each other, even though they went to school together. Their silent conversations on the square was almost like a secret.
Maysilee was now quickly hugging two other blonde girls; her twin sister Mariah and one of her friends. Haymitch was surprised when she didn't cry, just calmly went up on the stage and stood next to Fannia.
Maysilee's parents owned the candy shop, she was as rich as you could be in district 12. She had probably never been forced to apply for tesserae, her five slips in a ball with hundreds of others shouldn't even matter.
Haymitch didn't understand the anger that he felt inside. Maysilee bought eggs from him, so what? A lot of people did, he didn't know her better than he knew them.
He should be happy that Phenelope had not been reaped, and of course he was, but...
Why Maysilee Donner. Why.
"Leonard Fairbain!"
Haymitch instantly returned to reality, as he saw a skinny boy from the Seam make his way to Maysilee and Fannia. He had been so busy with his owns thoughts that he had forgot to worry about Septimus.
Haymitch wished that he had his little brother close now, so he could hold him in his arms and stroke his hair. Maybe Septimus didn't need to be calmed down, but Haymitch most certainly did.
He saw Amelia step to the boy's bowl and put her hand in it. A bunch of images suddenly hit Haymitch; Septimus running away from the cornucopia in panic, Septimus not being able find water and faints, Septimus being chased my mutts, a career tribute that sticks a knife in Septimus' chest, Septimus' dead body in a coffin...
Haymitch felt how his heart beat faster and faster, and he started to feel dizzy. Even if he volunteered, Septimus would not accept it.
It was nothing he could do but closing his eyes, and cross his fingers in a desperate call for help.
It must've helped, because when Amelia Erwin announced the final tribute, it wasn't Septimus Abernathy.
It was his brother.
