District 3 Reapings
Wiress Freid, Victor of the 49th Hunger Games
Wiress had always loved fairy tales. The stories about princes and princesses achieving their happily ever afters made it easy to forget that she lived in the world of Panem. Wiress herself had adopted one son, and she loved to read him fairy tales. To keep him under the blankets, safely hidden away with Cinderella and Pocahontas. Wiress wished that she could whisk him away to some safe place, where he would be safe from the reapings and safe from the ruthless ways of the Capitol. She wished she could do this to herself as well, but that would be selfish. Here she stood, in a roped-off area of the Justice Building stage. The man who was District 3's escort gave a short introductory speech to the audience. Then, he sashayed over to the women's reaping bowl. District 3 had three living female victors. The escort plucked out one of the names, strolled back over to the microphone, and unfolded the slip of paper.
"Wiress Freid!" he exclaimed. Wiress' stomach contracted with terror.
As Wiress nervously walked up to the microphone, she caught a glimpse of her son in the very front row of the crowd. The look on his face was one that Wiress would never forget as long as she lived. The sheer despair conveyed by his facial expression was enough to make tears burn the back of Wiress' eyes. That was the day that she stopped believing in fairy tales for good.
Beetee Latier, Victor of the 40th Hunger Games
Worms crawled in Beetee's stomach. He might have to go back into the arena once more. As District 3's escort was interrogating Wiress, Beetee took off his spectacles and polished them with his shirt. Fixing things calmed Beetee down. He liked to think that there was some kind of structure, some kind of harmony to the universe that was beyond the understanding of any human. He wanted to believe that there was a plan for him, and that he somehow was essential to the workings and the ways of the universe. That was what he wanted to believe, anyway.
Beetee was shaken back to reality by the sound of the escort's footsteps echoing around the square like thunder. He was strolling over to the men's reaping bowl. District 3 had three living male victors. Beetee knew it was selfish, but in his mind he began desperately pleading to whatever higher power there was that it would not be him. He hoped that the escort would read the name of one of the other two men standing beside him.
"Beetee Latier!" the escort sang.
The other two men cleared a path around him as he strolled up to the microphone. Everybody in the square was dead silent, and Beetee felt like he was the only movement in the universe at that point in time. Maybe he was. But, the inner workings of the universe were beyond his understanding. Maybe Beetee would escape the arena alive, and maybe he wouldn't. When asked to shake hands with Wiress, Beetee put on a charming smile. He would do his best to escape the arena alive. But, no matter what happened, there was a plan for him. He knew it.
And… District 3! I hope that I did Wiress and Beetee justice in this chapter! Next up is District 4, with none other than Mags Flanagan and Finnick Odair! Until next time :)
