The sickness that seemed to consume the hopeless city of paper factories had started to infect the once healthy and lively towns where 7's lumberjacks resided. While there were hardly any peacekeepers in the city, leaving addiction and violence to destroy families, it felt as if there were far too many in the towns of loggers. The peacekeepers glared at everyone and being around them felt like walking on eggshells. Then with no warning, they'd act; maybe a gun would be shot or they'd make an arrest or they'd beat an innocent person black and blue purely because they felt like it. It made Aspen Sawyer uncomfortable to leave the safety of his neighbourhood, knowing they'd be around every corner. His cousins - taken in by his parents after theirs died - twins, Birch and Willow didn't like it either. For their sake, Aspen tried to hide the fear that threatened to paralyse him. Thankfully his neighbour, Eugene made it a little easier. He had an inner strength, a rebellious fire that was the source of much hope and concern for him.
The reaping was mere hours away, most of Aspen's town - appropriately called Northtown - had settled into a state of dull dread. It was widely known that kids from the factories were always more inclined to be reaped and the few lumberjacks that were reaped almost always made it to the top 8. And they were lucky with the wins of Hog and Cleome, occurring only 7 years apart, the gifts the Capitol showered their district with had helped his family more than once. It wasn't uncommon to see the woman walking about the district, with bags laden with food, moving in the kind of careless way that almost made you forget what she did in the arena. Almost. Usually, another victor begrudgingly accompanied her; it was rare to see her in public without at least one other person at her side, though never any family or friends from her life before the games. It was cruel but understandable that people - even those closest to her - would fear her after the games and Aspen still found himself waking up from nightmares haunted with images of her disembowelling a boy or luring a girl into a deep tar pit before setting it alight.
It was that fear that led to a morbid fascination with the woman. Aspen had a whole list of people he liked to think about, strange people whose stories he liked to imagine; the grocer's eldest daughter, the Peacekeeper with missing ring fingers, his maths teacher. Birch, called Aspen's tendency to daydream 'fucking weird' and then Willow would tell him to stop being 'such a fucking asshole' and Aspen, who didn't swear, would shoot him a self-satisfied smile and go back to whatever it was he was doing. Birch and Willow were 14 - two years younger than Aspen - they meant everything to him, on more than one occasion, he'd gone without eating for them to have extra.
It was his best friend, and neighbour, Eugene that awoke the siblings, climbing through their window and humming as he flicked through their sparse wardrobe.
"None of this will do!" Eugene declared. "You're far too divine for these rags." Willow appeared in their doorway, flour on her apron, hair roughly tied back.
"Are you happy there?" She asked eyebrow raised.
"And you're letting the girl do the cooking. Tsk, tsk. Thought we had surpassed such sexism in today's progressive society." Aspen doubted that his friend knew what the words 'surpass' or 'progressive' meant. Still, they got up, dreading the day ahead. There were traditional district 7 rolls on the table, made from rough tesserae grain and mixed with maple syrup that was so affordable that even drug-addicted factory families had a jar of it in an otherwise empty pantry. Eugene's parents were sitting at the table with his own and they all helped themselves to the food, joking for the sake of joking - because if they didn't they'd all start crying. Beside him, Eugene was cuffing a pair of slacks with a little too much force than necessary.
"Are those mine?" Aspen asked.
"If you get reaped, your competition and sponsors will be less inclined to see you as a lost cause, if you look like you give a damn about your image." They were all on edge.
After a drawn-out breakfast, they forced themselves to prepare for the day. Aspen thought District 7 was going to get lucky again, surely a pattern was arising and he hoped there would be a day where 7 could join the Career pack. While polishing their shoes - upon their parents' insistence - he told his best friend about this hope of his, hoping that Birch wouldn't be mean today and say anything. Unfortunately, his cousin forced himself into the conversation and in a matter of seconds was talking about how everyone was doomed and that was religion was the district's way of trying to understand how miserable existence was and the games shouldn't exist - like no one else had thought the same thing.
"Must you be so dramatic all the time?" Willow rolled her eyes.
They all walked to the town square with little fanfare, keeping to the sides of roads while buses, packed with children and parents from the city and towns scattered about 7, rumbled past. There was always a preliminary reaping, where you would get an envelope the mail stating if you had to attend that year's reaping or if you were safe for another year - District 7 was so populated, it was the only way reapings could be run. He didn't understand why they weren't held in City if it was children from there that were almost always picked; his mum said it was because Northtown was prettier and cleaner and that it convinced Capitol audiences that the districts weren't entirely hopeless.
The people around them got rowdier and more nervous as they approached the Justice Hall and the stench of sweat filled the air while mid-summer sun beat down on them. The worst was yet to come and they already wanted nothing more than to be within the rough scrap wood walls of their home. Being separated from his friends and family was always the worst part for Aspen, they were his sense of security. He returned to his daydreams once he moved to his pen of boys his age, wondering what the great Cleome Walker was thinking and how her day had been so far. She wore an orange suit that flattered her boyish build and seemed rather relaxed at first glance - but Aspen knew better, he learned had a nervous habit of fiddling with a gold ring that never left her pinky finger. Minutes later, Hog - flask in one hand - joined her. They appeared to have a whispered conversation, she pulled a face and mouthed a few unsavoury words - he must have said something to annoy her, but weirdly the pair visibly relaxed after that. He thought their relationship must have been similar to the one he had with Birch - antagonistic and yet quietly loving.
Finally, the escort, Saturn Glaze, a woman with a floor-length wig and outfit covered in plastic frogs reached her hand into the girl's bowl, reading the name before a girl who looked hardly thirteen made her way to the stage already sobbing. Then it was time for the boys, he hoped with crossed fingers that no one he knew would be picked, that if they were he'd volunteer in his place so they could live happy lives and -
"Aspen Sawyer!" The woman's voice interrupted his train of thought.
A/N: Just wanted to say thanks to RubyTree7 for submitting the wonderful character of Aspen Sawyer. I liked writing this chapter and being able to explore District 7's world and its inhabitants. Thank you so much for reading.