A Primrose on Fire- A Hunger Games fanfiction

The Reaping

I woke up with a start, panting as tears flowed down my face. I rapidly looked around, making sure I was safe. I was in our room. I got up gently from the bed Katniss and I shared, not wanting to wake her and headed over to mother's bed and curled up next to her, falling back into a dreamless sleep.

Mother prodded me awake and I groggily stood up, Buttercup curled up next to me. I smiled softly at the adorable creature. Mother had already gotten Katniss' first reaping outfit laid out for me, a skirt with a ruffled light blue blouse. I hurried to get it on, not wanting to be late. Mother then braided my blonde hair into two braids down my back. Mother had on a nice dress from her apothecary days, her grey-streaked blonde hair in a neat bun.

Katniss must've already been out hunting with Gale as there was no sign of her or the cheese I had made for her from my goat Lady.

Katniss came in, her game bag slung over her shoulder as she set it down. Mother had a warm bath ready for her with a lovely light blue dress with matching shoes. "Are you sure?" Katniss asked once she got out. "Of course. Let's put your hair up, too," she says. Katniss was hesitant at first but mother quickly got to work of helping Katniss get ready. She towel dries Katniss' hair and braids it up on her head in an elaborate style. "You look beautiful" I say in awe. "And nothing like myself." She replies as she bends down to hug me. I was so worried. Katniss had 20 whole slips in that bowl. Twenty. It's such a big number, especially compared to mine. I only had 1. Katniss wouldn't let me take out any tesserae. If she had just let me her number wouldn't have been so high...

"Tuck your tail in, little duck," she says, smoothing out the back of my blouse that kept coming untucked into a duck-like tail. I giggle and give a small "Quack, "Quack yourself," she says with a slight, rare laugh. "Come on, let's eat." She says, bending down to kiss my head.

The fish and greens are already cooking into a stew that would be for supper. We decide to save the strawberries and bakery bread Katniss' brought home for this evening's meal, to make it special, we say. Instead we drink milk from my goat, Lady, and eat the rough bread made from tessera grain, although none of us have an appetite anyway.

At one o'clock, we head for the square. Attendance is mandatory unless you are on death's door. This evening, officials will come around and check to see if this is the case. If not, you will be imprisoned.
It's too bad, really, that they hold the reaping in the square, one of the few places District 12 is pleasant. It's surrounded by shops, and on public market days, especially if there's food weather, it has a holiday feel to it. I especially love gazing at the beautifully decorated cakes by the bakery. But today, despite the bright and 'festive' banners hanging on the surrounding buildings, there's an air of grimness. The camera crews, perched like buzzards on rooftops, only add to the affect.

People come in silently to sign in. The reaping is a good opportunity to keep tabs on the population in districts. Twelve to eighteen year olds are pushed into roped areas marked by ages, the oldest in the front, the youngest in the back. Family members too old or too young line up along the perimeter, clutching hands tightly with stress. But there are others too, who don't have someone they love at stake or just don't care, who slip around the crowd placing bets on who's name will be drawn. Odds are given on their ages, whether their Seam or merchant, if they will break down and weep.

The space gets tighter, more claustrophobic, as people arrive to the square. The square's quite large, but not big enough to hold the population of about eight thousand.

I focus my attention to the stage that is set up before the justice building. It holds three chairs, a podium, and two large glass balls holding thousands of slips, one for the girls and one for the boys. I gaze at the girls' ball. Twenty whole slips with 'Katniss' in it. One with 'Primrose'.

Two of the three chairs fill with Mayor Undersee, who's a tall, balding man, and Eiffie Trinket, District 12's escort, fresh from the capitol with her scary, wide grin, pinkish hair, and spring green suit. She looks like one of those dolls you'll see the merchant kids carrying. They murmur to each other and then look at the empty chair with concern. Of course Haymitch was late.

Just as the clock strikes two, the mayor steps up onto the podium and begins to read. He tells the history of Panem that I've heard so many times from accompanying mother to the reaping but I try to listen as hard as I could this year. He tells how Panem is the country that rose out of the ashes of a place that was once North America. He lists multiple disasters such as droughts, floods, storms, fires, encroaching seas that swallowed up so much of the land, the brutal war for what little sustenance remained. The result was Panem, a shining Capitol ringed by 13 districts, which brought peace and prosperity to its citizens. Then came the Dark Days, the uprising of the districts against the Capitol. Twelve were defeated, the thirteenth obliterated. The Treaty of Treason gave us new laws to guarantee peace and, as our yearly reminder that the Dark Days must never be repeated, it gave us the Hunger Games. Quite gruesome things to tell the children here.

The rules to the Hunger Games are simple, in punishment for the uprising, each of the twelve districts must provide one girl and one boy, called tributes, to participate. The twenty-four tributes will be imprisoned in a vast outdoor arena that could hold anything from a burning desert to a frozen wasteland. Over a period of several weeks, the competitors must fight to death. The last tribute standing wins.

To make it humiliating as well as torturous, the Capitol requires us to treat the Hunger Games like a festivity, a sporting event event pitting every district against others. The last tribute alive receives a life of ease back home, and their district will be showered with prizes, largely consisting of food. All year the Capitol will show the winning district gifts of grain and oil and even delicacies like sugar while the rest of us battle starvation.

"It is both time for repentance and and a time for thanks." Intones the mayor.

Then he reads the list of District 12 victors. In seventy-four years we have exactly two. Only one is still alive. Haymitch Abernathy, a paunchy, middle-aged man, who at this moment appears hollering something unintelligible, staggers on to the stage, and falls into the third chair. He's drunk. Very. The crowd responds with its token applause, but he's confused and tries to give Eiffie Trinket a big hug, which she barely manages to fend off.

The mayor looks distressed. Since all of this is televised, right now District 12 is the laughing stock of Panem, and he knows it. H quickly tried to pull attention back to the reaping by introducing Eiffie Trinket.

Bright and bubbly as ever, Eiffie Trinket trots to the podium and gives her signature "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" Her pink hair must be a wig because her curls have slightly shifted off-centre since her encounter with Haymitch. She talks about how it's an honor to be here, although everyone knows she's just aching to get bumped up to a better district where they have proper victors, not drunks who molest you in front of the entire nation.

Through the crowd I spot Katniss looking at me with an encouraging smile, saying "It's only one slip, the odds are slim," but, there's still a chance.

It's time for the drawing. Eiffie Trinket says as she always does, "Ladies first!" And crosses to the glass ball with the girls' names. She reaches in, digs her hand deep into the ball, and pulls out a slip of paper. The crowd draws in a collective breath and then you can hear a pin drop, and I'm feeling nauseous and desperately hoping it's not me or Katniss. My mind is spiraling and time seems to be going so slow as I wait for the name to called- Please please please-

Eiffie Trinket crosses back to the podium, smooths out the slip of paper, and reads out the name in a clear voice.

"Primrose Everdeen"

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Thank you Lizardo1912 for helping me with this and proofreading for me!