John let out a large gasp and awoke suddenly. The pain in his leg was doubled today. He grasped his scarred leg and took deep breaths. Slowly his pulse went down and he reflected over his dream. It had been about the past. It has been eight years since he broke his leg after his fall. The only reason he survived the fall was due to a lake where the oak's roots twisted into. His leg snapped cleanly on impact. His father, knowing that he possibly ventured into the forest, went searching for him in the night and found him passed out on the banks of the water. He was half drowned and pure white bone punctured his outer skin in his right leg. They had mended him the best they could. The citizens of district 7 had to rely on inexperienced doctors for help and John's leg made a slow recovery. The only problem was psychological damage. John became very afraid of heights and refused a job as a lead climber. The only thing he was good for was swinging an axe and cutting down trees. John fished around his bed for his knobby wooden cane and stood unsteadily on his two feet. The limp in his leg was no excuse from his name in the reaping. As long as he could swing an axe he was good for work. John knew no one of great authority cared for his gimpy condition. As long as he could still be entertaining it didn't matter.

John limped down the stairs and greeted his bleary family warmly. His elder sister Harriet Watson had escaped the reaping somehow and after eighteen years of pure anxiety Mrs. Watson was practically wasting away at the thought of one more year of worry. John didn't want to remind her that his name had now been entered thirty times for the tesserae. Harriet had turned nineteen that year and now John, who was seventeen, would have to make it by a long shot.

"So…tomorrow's it?" John asked hoping childishly that he hadn't slept through his final day of freedom.

"Yes. As if they'd let us forget. Happy Hunger games this. Happy Hunger games that. I swear to God if I hear it more time I'm going to get lashes for assault." Harry snapped getting ready to leave for work.

John laughed while Mrs. Watson made a noncommittal sound of disapproval.

"Your silver tongue is going to get you lashes if you don't keep your head down."

"Oh right everyone at work agrees with me. It's the best to knock the capitol when those assholes aren't watching us."

"Harry, come on! You could make it worse for John-"

"Leave me out of this."

"How on earth could I make it any worse than forcing children to kill one another?"

"Harry!"

John sighed as he tuned out his mother's shrill voice about how they can tamper with the reaping. She had become steadily more worrisome and paranoid during the time so close to the reaping. John had decided to play hooky that day and escape into the forest and throw his axe around. John's axe had once been Mr. Watson's. The only job he can aspire to do is be a lumber jack because of his strength and aim. The only problem he would have to face if he was chosen for the games was his useless leg. Suddenly the bickering between his sister and his mother became loud. He felt that he couldn't stand thinking about the games any more than he wanted to. So he shoveled down his food, dismissed himself, and limped outdoors.

John grabbed his axe and made his way towards the thick woods. He looked quite unusual with his slight limp and an axe over his shoulder. John realized this and began to think about the games. The dull fear over took him. He sped up his pace until he was out of sight in the woods and looked at his makeshift cane. A sudden fierce anger and frustration seeped through him. Thinking quickly he threw it as hard as he could and it sailed through the air in a windmill before crashing against a tree trunk. John shifted his weight on his bad leg. For a few minutes his leg did not even waver. He positioned his body in a defensive stance and raised his axe over his head. He pushed all of his physical strength into his arm and hurled the axe at a faraway tree. The pain in his leg erupted so fast that John yelled out and stumbled to the ground. When he looked up he saw the axe wedged neatly in the tree that he aimed for. One strength. One weakness. The odds were definitely not in his favor.

"Nice one, gimpy!" Said a familiar voce behind John.

John looked over his shoulder in annoyance to the face of a young and beautiful girl. It was Mary Morstan, John's childhood friend. He had once conspired to run away from the district when they were kids. They had actually packed for it but never got around to actually finding a way out. This was a few days before John's tree accident. Mary was now fifteen.

"Alright, Goldilocks?" John quipped.

"Better than you are I'd imagine." She helped John up.

His leg was still slightly shaking but he fought to keep it still. It annoyed him to no end. He hated the way people looked at him with pity. Mary, however, understood his situation. She joked about it; she made it seem less painful and humiliating. John stood and his leg shook again. He struggled and concentrated until Mary sighed.

"Hold on, gimpy. I got it." She smiled at him and pushed his head playfully.

John felt a surge of heat when she touched him. He watched her wrestle the axe from the tree with a few hearty tugs. John noticed that her thin arms looked more toned than usual and her breasts bigger. John shook his head and guilty looked away when Mary stooped down and grabbed his cane. Her shirt left nothing to the imagination.

"How many times is your name entered this year?" Mary asked as she settled down next to him.

John sat down next to her stretching out his aching leg and sighing.

"Not too much. I think I'll be fine." John reached for his cane but Mary lifted it out of reach.

"How many times, John?"

"Thirty. You know district seven is one of the most populated districts."

"As far as our education tells us."

"If you can even call it that." John joked, nudging Mary as she fiddled with grass. "We needed the tesserae. It's hard enough to get by with it. We at least needed food. And now that Harry is out of the games…" he trailed off.

John laid his axe and cane on either side of him, sighing heavily. He felt better that he was in Mary's company. Though she was younger, Mary was the perfect confidant for John. Harry would often brush off his words and his mother would fret. John's father was at work so often that John didn't even know what he looked like anymore. Mary was level headed and comforting.

"I'm afraid, gimpy."

"I know. I am too."

Mary suddenly scooted closer to John and leant her head on John's shoulder. John jumped slightly and turned red. Her hair was soft against his shoulder. He shifted closer as they listened to the morning forest speak to them. For all their fears they had nothing to say. The reaping was going to come tomorrow no matter how hard they struggled against it. The very though depressed John to no end.

"Come on. Let's walk. We can try to get to the dam today."

"What for?" Mary rolled her eyes as John got up in a huff.

"To see it. To defile it. To knock it down with magic, I dunno. I need to get in shape." John shrugged

"Magic?" Mary laughed and got up, stretching.

"I've been nicking the classics from school."

"Harry Potter series?"

"No, the Alchemyst. It's more scientific. And really rare. Apparently it was a trilogy or something. They could only salvage one copy." John sneered leaning on his cane and slinging the axe over his shoulder and limping towards the dam.