Chapter 12:

Ivy Barker, 17, District 7 female, night before the reaping, around 4am

The moonlight made Rowan's white-blond hair shine. Ivy cuddled deeper into the warm blankets. Her boyfriend slept deeply and tightly. His regular breathing was deeply reassuring. Ivy squeezed harder on her boyfriend's muscular back. He had increased after her parents had taken him in.

It had been two years since she met him on the old oak. Tears ran down her face, her shoulders trembling under each new sob. "No chance of healing," the doctor said. Ivy had stormed out of practice. Her mother had walked halfway down the main road behind her, but then she gave up. "We love you no matter what," her mother Ivy had whispered encouragingly. Ivy would have liked to shout at her and tell her that there will be no hope of healing anyway. The weeping girl bent into one of the hollow paths that led into the protected forest.

There she inadvertently collided with an older boy, who arrived in full hunting gear from near the border fence. He had grabbed her by the arm and asked her where he found the next peacekeeper. Creatures that have never been seen there before were running around in the forest. When she told him where to go to report it, he asked why she was crying.

"I have ADHD. It's incurable.' Ivy thought she would never see him again.

Rowan turned to her and put an arm under her waist. Although the gesture was meant lovingly, Ivy felt his strength. "Remember, it's a purely precautionary measure," he said, throwing the bent knife into the target. Ivy leaned on her forearms and tried to stay in the Plank-posture. "Everything just to stay alive," she muttered, before collapsing with trembling muscles.

The two teens had secretly put together a training course in the small garden of the Barkers. 'When I have to go to the games, I don't want to be a girl begging for a quick death - I'm going to fight to the last breath', she said firmly to Rowan at the time, looking at her in a mixture of admiration and suspicion. Since then, they have been training every day after school and work for at least an hour. Weightlifting to build muscle. Running training to expand the fitness. Axe slingshot to kill if necessary. Ivy Barker was not a blank sheet. She knew that they could endure what others would never bear; she was strong enough.

Rowan muttered. The black-haired one drew him closer to himself. Today they had been allowed to sleep in the same bed. Although their parents liked Rowan and treated him like a son, they demanded that the two lovers never sleep in a room without permission. Ivy respected her parents' rule; they had done a lot for Rowan, so it was the least to stick to a rule.

Since last night Ivy was officially 17 years old. Big celebrations were secretly scary for her, which is why she decided never to go to a wedding or funeral. Yesterday Rowan had persuaded her to go jogging so her parents could decorate the house. There had been a small carrot cake and she had seen a slice of lemon in a drink for the first time. Ivy did not come from a rich family. Her mother worked as a midwife in the district's own hospital, and her father worked as a transport manager in a large paper company. She was raised modestly and for care.

The moonlight became weaker. Probably in a few hours the sun would rise and herald the most frightening day. Tomorrow was Reaping Day again. Everyone knew what that meant. Two innocent children were taken from their families to fight each other to the death. It was simply barbaric. The very thought that she could be on stage tomorrow made Ivy shudder. Rowan seemed to feel that she was moving and pulled her closer to herself. 'Nothing will happen to you,' he muttered, 'try to fall asleep again'.

'I'm trying,' she whispered, avoiding looking at the blue dress on her closet door. Why was she so afraid of being drawn?, she thought with a ruffled forehead. There were thousands of other children who had to take more extra oil and grain than them. The chances of being drawn were slim. Try to fall asleep again, you will need the strength tomorrow.

Eight hours later, she stood on the wooden slaughterhouse. She didn't want to cry; she didn't want to call for her family to get her out of this nightmare. All Ivy Barker wanted was a hug. The escort had reached out to her, but it had been freezing cold. Rowan looked at her with pain. He would have volunteered without question, but the boy had been drawn before her. There was nothing Ivy could do but watch her loved ones being ripped away from her.

I have to be strong. I have to do it for them.

Conan Bruce, 17, District 12 male, 4 weeks before the reaping

Being a teenager was not easy at all.

People expect you to do things, you didn't know anything about. You're expected to have good grades, being on top of every class. Additionally, being popular was good too and if you weren't, then let god bless your soul. Conan exactly didn't know what it felt like belonging to the popular guys and girls and even the nerds rejected him. He pressed the books closer to his body and moved on.

Luckily, he wasn't seen by any of Jake's friends, Conan entered the classroom. His teacher Ms Sunders wrote things on the board. She didn't recognize him, even though he was late.

Conan set down and pulled a block out of his old backpack. With a quiet click he opened the pen and started writing of the board. His pen passed over the paper in even motion. Everthing looked normal when Conan suddenlyfelt something hitting his head. A crumpled piece of paper lay on the linolium floor. Conan looked over his shoulder and looked at Jake, who pointed at the paper with an arrogant grin. Read it, he formed with his mouth. That was the moment Conan was just going to turn back to class. The idiots from the richer city centre had been making fun of him for years; they would never stop. Conan waited until Ms Sunders turned to the board to explain something that you had to know since eighth grade to be qualified for the course at all. He bent down to the aisle and picked up the paper ball. Quietly, Conan tried to unbuckle the paper.

Today. 4 p.m. Raised. Don't come too late.

With his forehead ruffled, Conan read the call again. Confused, he looked up. Jake waved a greasy smile before one of his friends demanded his attention. This was certainly not an invitation to pick up a piece of cake from the baker together. Jake was not and would never be his friend. Conan pushed the note into his jacket pocket. When he looked forward, Ms Sunders looked at him angrily. 'Well, you don't have an answer to my question, but talking to the others is fine, yes?!', she said, hitting the board and looking at him demandingly. 'Sorry, I just didn't pay attention. Can you repeat your question?', asked Conan. His cheeks burned with shame. She exposed him like everyone who thought he was too different. The school bell redeemed him from his fate. Conan jumped up and shouldered his backpack before crashing out of the classroom. He ignored his classmates, who stared at him in amazement.

His feet carried him automatically to the small stair heel on the east side of the school, where one had a good view of the forest, which encircled District 12. From there, 16 years ago, he was taken to this grey, smelly place. Sometimes Conan wondered why.

He didn't know his parents; they had just put him at the door of the orphanage and had never come back. On a bitterly cold winter morning, he was found wrapped tightly in a basket, a bronze amulet around his neck. Conan pressed firmly on his chest, where he could feel the punched lion through the fabric of his shirt. They must have been poor, otherwise they wouldn't have given me up, Conan always said, to feel better. They wanted a better life for me. The orphanage manager had told him that she saw two people dressed in black running away into the woods, and she didn't know more. Maybe his parents were out there waiting until he was out of reaping age to get him back? Did they want to build a life first, so that they could take care of him?

Conan didn't know the answer, but he didn't have too much hope. As a child, he had never been told to go into the woods alone. There lurked wild animals and poisonous plants, one made a mistake one was dead. The probability that his parents lived there was very low. They had fled from the bleak life here, perhaps they had made it to District 8, which was not too far from District 12. They may have died in the forest, but no one has ever found their bodies.

Before Conan could come up with another thought of his background and family, the emergency door broke open behind him. Frightened, he jumped up. Jake had bought three viewers for today's show. The boy took off his expensive coat and brutally grabbed Conan by the arm. Conan knew what was going to happen, but he didn't want to call for help. No one would come anyway. The first blow hit him in the face. As if in slow motion, his head was hurled to the left, his cheek burned by the rage, blood splashed from Jake's knuckles. Conan wanted to scream, but his mouth was full of metallic taste. He pulled out for the counter-attack, but only hit his opponent's shoulder. Jake roared with anger before pushing his knee into Conan's abdomen.

The kick took the air out of his lungs. Conan fell to the ground again. The concrete pressed into his back, his muscles burned. He could cry but would not lose a single tear to any of these cowards. Conan was not so weak that he did not recognize the balance of power. He did not want to give the gratification to the bullies. Blood dripped from his temples. Jake had landed a good shot, the guy was aware of that. With a satisfied smile, he took his final blow as a girl's voice rang out from the other side of the court.

'Hey, leave him alone!' the blonde yelled. Jake seemed to recognize her, turned around and ran back to school with his entourage. Conan's thoughts were a single mess when he saw the girl bowing anxiously at him. 'Can you get up?', she asked. Conan shook his head weakly before a stinging pain in his back stopped him. The girl's blonde locks flicked across his face as she leaned forward to eat his lungs. 'I think everything is fine, but you should get some patches from a nurse', the girl said, 'I'm sorry that Jake is such an ass.'

"Can you help me?" asked Conan, groaning. He had underestimated Jake's strength. His head roared as the girl supported him. "Thank you," he muttered. Conan was aware of how scared he had to look right now. "No problem. I don't like to look away," she said.

"I'm going to take you to the nurse. If you get dizzy, you have to tell you," the blonde said. Although Conan was slow to hum and probably leaned on the girl with his full body weight, he was glad she was there. Normally no one would have come. He would have been taken more of his pride and decency, but he was used to that. As the two dragged each other through the ugly aisle of the school, they stared at hundreds of eyes. Some slapped their hands in front of their mouths, others looked away. The nurse rushed towards them halfway down the aisle. "How bad is it this time?" she asked anxiously, brushing a wet strand out of his face. Conan felt something running down the back of his head. He would never forget the nurse's panicked gaze when she yelled at a group of boys to help her bring Conan to the hospital room. Just before he was lifted up, everything around him turned black.

When he woke up, he smelled disinfectant first. "He's awake," the blonde girl whispered. Conan muttered something and blinked at her several times. "I can't understand you," the girl whispered sadly. Conan tried to get to her hand, which was on the edge of the bed. Without hesitation, she gently pressed his hand. "Don't worry, I'll stay there until your parents pick you up," she said, gently sticking over his shoulder. "Thank you," he muttered softly, closing his eyes again so as not to have to cry in front of her.

It was the first time Conan Bruce didn't feel alone.

You won't believe me when I tell you that this chapter took me over four weeks. I'm sorry for not uploading for over a month, but I decided I want to finish writing the introductions before uploading a new chapter. Additionally, I have had a lot to think about the last few weeks and couldn't really write anything. Still I hope that people/submitter will continue reading the story and leave comments. You don't know how happy it makes me when I read a review! (By the way, Bradi and Joseph: The sponsor gift will be up to one of you! You both have written the most reviews by now!). Next chapter will focus on two pre-reaping scenes, then we will read two reapings and last but not least two goodbyes! The last chapter to be posted will include a huge step in the Capitol storyline and a reaping recap. Till then, please stay safe and merry Christmas to everyone! Love, Athena