Author's Note: Thank you for your continued support for this project. Please consider following for updates as they will be released more frequently than past chapters. Thank you again for the support, I hope you'll consider leaving a review so I may better my writing skills. -XJR
3
The humidity clinging to my skin froze. My hands and face were flushed, a tear struck like lightning from my eye. When I looked up at the screen, the camera was pointed directly at me.
"Step up young man, the world is watching!" Azo declared.
I could hear my heartbeat pound like a drum in my ears. When I stepped forward, the rest of the 18 year old boys stepped back. Their faces were all the same - tense yet relieved that I was chosen over them.
From the aisle, I glanced over my shoulder to see my family being whisked away by a small detachment of Peacekeepers, my mother sobbing, my father red in the face, Thimb was nowhere to be found. I kept walking, slowly at first, then longer and longer strides. I felt sick, like my stomach had been suddenly filled with concrete and I was seconds away from barfing it up.
Azo waved me up the stairs yet offered no hand to steady myself when I stumbled on the way up. He led me to the center stage, everyone stared at me, all of Panem had their eyes on me.
That's when it happened, the seemling solid mix of breakfast meats and bread came spewing out of my mouth like a broken dam. I vomited, not just on myself, but on the stage, splashing the all-white outfits of the Peacekeepers below in bile. I could feel the eyes of Panem roll simultaneously while I stood on stage covered in my own sick. The odds were surely not in my favor.
Before I knew it Azo rushes us into the Justice Building and the ceremony is over. The scent of my vomit on my button down shirt travels with me.
"Can I get a new shirt for him please!?" Azo hollars to a nonexistent stylist team behind him. He sighs, "Right, just one second kid."
I'm locked behind a door in a small room designated as my holding pen. It's there that the reality of the situation sets in: I've been reaped for the Hunger Games, I'm going to die.
I didn't think I was overreacting. Historically, District 8 never had its fair share of victors. Most victors came from the Career Districts 1, 2, and 4. Their close relationships with the Capitol along with the need for the products (luxury, masonry, and fishing, respectively) made them reliable fan favorites. Most of their tributes would volunteer for the Games and spent their entire lives training for the day they are asked to volunteer. It was hard watching a Career win, I never understood why the Capitol let it happen - it just didn't make for a good show.
Suddenly the door swung open, my parents overwhelmed me in their arms, squeezing all of the air out of my lungs. They stood, closer to hovered, over me - both choking back tears.
I got filled up watching them restrain themselves and for the first minute or so we just cried. I sobbed into my mother's arms, a voice in my head reminding me to hold tight as it would be the last time I would get to hold her.
"Where is Thimb?" I said through a sob, "Wasn't he with you guys?"
"He was, we don't know where he went," my father said, my mother still cried but held my hand. When I saw my father, his face was bright red, he wasn't upset; he was angry.
"You weren't supposed to be Reaped," my father fumed.
"I-I don't believe it either father, I'm-"
His fists were clenched, "No Jasp, your name was never supposed to be in the Reaping bowl."
"I thought you said he was safe-" my mother said between gasps for breath.
My heart fluttered, thinking this may have just been some big misunderstanding, "So what? I'm not actually going?" I said with some hope. My mind immediately conjured images of going home, eating the barley-bean soup my mother promised.
No," my father shook his head, "no!"
Swoosh, BANG! When I looked up, my father's hand had punctured the wall. He cried out in agony. A peacekeeper banged on the door, probably assuming the worst.
My father tore me away from my mother, his hair glistened with sweat, his face red as a hot iron, "Jasper, you listen to me when I tell you this - your name was never supposed to be in that Reaping bowl. Your mother and I - JUST A MINUTE," he said in reaction to the repeated banging on the door. "Your mother and I paid a lot of money, liked a lotta boots to ensure that you, your brother, and your sister, were never in the Reaping."
"Wh-" I tried to speak but only let out a squeak.
"What does this mean?" My mother finished my sentence.
"It means," my father sighed yet the banging got louder. "It either means we wasted a lot of money or that Jasper is being taken as reparations for the poor production performance and worker riots we've had the past years."
"Surely that can't be-" my mother appealed.
"The mayor's daughter and the advisor's son both got Reaped. When was the last time anyone in District government has gotten Reaped?" my father argued.
"Never," I replied. "That's never happened."
I was certain. Never had I seen an outburst by a mayor like I saw that day. I always considered it unlikely that it would happen, given the small sizes of the provincial staffs that ran the administrative tasks of the district.
The peacekeeper kicked down the door and dragged my father out of the room, placing him in handcuffs while he swore at them. They had to pull my mother off of me while she clawed at my vomit-stained shirt.
"I love you Jasper, I-" her words were cut off with the slam of the door behind her. I was left alone in the room with nothing but a ticking clock to fill the void of silence penetrating into my psyche.
I was more than a tribute - I was a political prisoner sentenced to execution for the crimes of my father. My new understanding of my role in the Games changed my outlook. Surviving alone was hard enough, with a target on my back it would be near impossible.
A handful of classmates came to see me in the room. I paid them no mind while they apologized, saying how sorry they were that I were reaped. I wanted to tell them the truth, how my name shouldn't have even been in the reaping bowl. I knew I couldn't in fear of being called crazy, to protect my father and mayor who would more than likely lose their lives for bribery. When they left, Nik was finally allowed into the room.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and sobbed, harder than when my parents were there. He held me tight around my waist, his belly jerked against mine with every yelp he managed to get out.
When the embrace broke, my shirt was covered in tears and vomit. Nik wiped his tears away, swallowed hard and said, "I was gonna apologize for ruining your shirt but it looks like you already did that."
I chuckled and for a second was distracted from the reality laid in front of me.
"How are you?" Nik asked.
"I have to admit, I've been better," I said.
"I can't believe we're here…" he said in awe. "I was shocked-"
"How do you think I feel?"
"I was shocked," he repeated, "that you and Roux got reaped. I mean, given the fact that everyone in the factories is fuming already with the bigger workloads, all the strikes, all of the missed production goals. Reaping the Mayor's daughter it's-"
"It's never happened before, I know."
"No, it's just so obvious they're punishing both of your fathers by taking you two. It's messy, it's not their style."
"So the odds aren't in my favor," I said.
"They were never in your favor," he said plainly. "Everyone in the district could have taken a tessare for every member of the family four times over and it would not have changed the outcome."
For the remainder of our time together Nik went over strategies I could employ in the arena.
"I think your best bet is to just wait everyone out, so when you get to the training center, focus on survival skills."
"Shouldn't I find a weapon?" I asked, recalling how many tributes died in the days following the initial bloodbath due to horrifically modified wild predators.
"Find a knife, it's versatile and bound to be in there somewhere. Everyone uses knives." I hugged Nik before the Peacekeepers dragged him away. "You have to win Jasp, you're my best friend and you have to win." The door slammed behind him and a deadbolt locked me inside. I sat down on the metal floor, clenching my fist, trying to overcome the fire burning in my belly. The Games weren't fair and because of it, I wasn't going to play fair either.