The Tempest and Oasis Chapter 13: District 7's Reapings, a hunger games fanfic

Well, I've decided that it's in everyone's best interests if I make these chapters a little shorter. . . Or, a better way to put it, I won't try to make them so drawn-out just to make the chapters longer. This way, I'll get chapters out faster and the story will progress much quicker. And I think everyone will appreciate that. 'Cause after all, this story should get even more interesting the further into the Games it gets. I'm still gonna try to make each reaping interesting some way or another, but some of them might start with the tributes already in the Town Square or something just to make them move a bit faster. This chapter isn't quite like that, but I'm just giving fair warning for the future chapters. Of course, I am still going to do my best to give each character a complete personality and bring them to justice because all of them are unique and interesting in different ways, and I really want to make all of my readers feel like they understand each tribute, to at least some extent.

I'd like to give a quick shout out to Hbrooks who told me about a certain song that appears in this chapter. I've come to love the song and listen to it all the time, and it never fails to remind me of the Hunger Games, specifically the reapings. So, it is featured in this chapter.

Don't forget to check out and vote on the poll on my profile if you haven't yet!

DISCLAIMER: I can't think of any slightly clever way of saying I don't own the books, so I'll just say I don't own The Hunger Games. I also do not own the song Dead Hearts by Stars, whose lyrics appear in this chapter. :D

-Callie Mackren, District 7-

"Callie, could you please come down now?" Oliver is clearly starting to lose his patience with me. He can wait a little longer though. It won't kill him.

I gaze down through long, finger-like branches at Oliver's upturned face. His hand is up in front of his face blocking the sun, sending a small strip of shadow right over his narrowed blue eyes. I've been told if it weren't for their different color, our eyes would look exactly the same. I don't see how, though. His eyes are always far too serious.

Despite being twins, I've never thought Oliver and I looked alike. His face is terminally straight and concerned, whereas I can never seem to keep from doing something with mine. Whether that be a grin or a grimace, I've been told my face always has some sort of expression on it. I'd probably be terrible at poker.

"Callie!" Oliver's voice cracks; it only does that when he's really having to struggle to stay composed.

I give in. "Fine. Calm down, I'm on my way."

My bare hands and feet slither over the trees bark, finding purchase on the trunk with an ease that comes only from years of climbing. I've been doing a lot of it in my lifetime, what with working in the lumber industry since age twelve and everything. Even if I had never started working for the district, I would probably still be an expert tree-climber. I've always had a hard time just staying on the ground. It's far too… flat.

The cool grass is a nice relief on my callused feet once I've hopped down off the last branch of the tree. It sits just behind our house and on the edge of the forest that ferociously surrounds the rest District 7.

Oliver pats my head absentmindedly, mumbling a soft, "Thanks," before turning around and walking back into the house. I debate whether or not to make a joke to try and lighten his mood as I follow him in, but I decide better of it. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't find anything lighthearted very funny. Not on the day of the reaping.

-Kienan Chapman, District 7-

Tell me everything that happened,

Tell me everything you saw.

Looking around at all of the thirteen-year-olds standing around me, it isn't difficult to conclude that something unfortunate is going to happen. The anxiety in each pair of eyes says it all. I'd bet my eyes are just the same as theirs, just the same as Pedro's standing next to me. In under an hour, though, almost all of their eyes will be lighter. In under an hour, only two families will still look just as morose, if not worse.

They had lights inside their eyes.

Pedro and I stand silently, waiting. Neither of us can think of anything suitable to say. Instead, I let lyrics flood my mind, drowning out unwanted memories of this very same day four years ago. Since that day, my older sister's bedroom has gathered cobwebs and her bedspread gathered dust.

Did you see the closing window,

Did you hear the slamming door?

The mayor enthusiastically recites his usual, stale speech. I don't take interest in it, no differently than anyone else. Even the district escort sitting in a chair at the back of the stage has his head slumped down onto his fist. Although, come to think of it, I don't know that this escort has ever been engrossed in anything. I briefly wonder why he even continues to take a job as an escort; it seems to me as if he'd almost rather be poking needles in his eyes than escort yet another Game.

Finally the mayor finishes his speech, and the droopy-eyed escort is summoned to the podium. His drawling voice matches his bland appearance as he announces his 'excitement' about nearing the start of the Games. The only significant thing about him is the single earring adorning his left ear of a silver arrow with a diamond tip. Other than that, it seemed clear by his scruffiness that he simply didn't care about much of anything.

They moved forward and my heart died.

The escort mindlessly runs a hand over his rough cheek as he shoves his other hand into the girls' glass ball. I'm thankful for the split second before he reads off the name that there is no girl for me to fear being drawn.

Not anymore, I unwillingly add. Not anymore….

"Callie Mackren." The escort slurs her first and last name awkwardly together, but it's soon obviously apparent that the name was understood.

The seventeens part to allow a slightly stocky, freckled girl to make her way to the stage. Her face is carefully blank when she turns to face the crowd, her eyes staring intently somewhere among the mass of people.

Please, please tell me what they looked like,

Did they seem afraid of you?

Barely glancing at Callie, the escort prepares to draw the boy's name. Pedro and I look at each other for a moment, silently willing neither of us to have our names read off.

They were kids that I once knew.

There's a pause as the escort reads the name to himself and then mumbles it into the microphone.

The name is a jumbled mess, and I can't understand it. Pedro, though, looks at me appallingly, in full understanding.

My lungs tighten as the escort reads my name again, clearer this time, and there is no mistaking his words.

-Callie Mackren, District 7-

A boy named Kienan stands beside, my newly named district partner. He's thin, with dirty blonde hair and a distracted expression. I can tell by his eyes that he's not worrying about the moment, that something else is disturbing him.

I swallow as we wait for our rugged escort to wrap up the reaping. He asks if there are any volunteers, and again I find Oliver's eyes, urging him not to. The tight line of his mouth suggests that he doesn't agree with my thoughts, but he doesn't make any move to take Kienan's place beside me. I let out a relieved sigh.

-Kienan Chapman, District 7-

I can only feel concern for my mother as I shake hands with Callie. I can only imagine what toll this will take on her, losing both of her children in a bloody, cruel Game.

I can say it, but won't believe me,

You say you do, but you don't deceive me.

Dead hearts are everywhere!

Okay, there it is! I know it's kind of short, but it's something. Hope to get another chapter out as soon as possible!

-Tasting Raindrops