Timber || The Hunger Games

Reaping

Mira sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, her left eye focused intently on the small, weathered book in her lap. The pages were filled with sketches of trees and animals, the drawings vibrant despite the wear. Her fingers traced the edges of a page that featured a tall pine. Outside, the sounds of her mother's axe chopping wood echoed through the open window, mixing with the distant laughter of children playing in the alleys. A thud could be heard from just out the door; her older brother Eli poked his head through the doorway.

"Mira, can you help me with this?" 

She looked up, breaking her concentration on the pine tree. "What do you need?"

"Trying to get this log up onto the cart. I could use an extra pair of hands," he replied.

"Okay, give me a moment," she said, pushing herself to her feet and placing her book under her bed's linens. As she moved to the door, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the dusty glass of a nearby window. The patch over her right eye felt heavy, a constant reminder of the past. She pushed forward and out into the sun, together, they heaved the log onto the cart, the rough bark scratching at Mira's hands. "want help pulling it to the shop too?"

"please..." Once it was secured, they began the trek toward their father's workshop, navigating the familiar path that wound through the forest.

The sun filtered through the canopy of trees, casting playful shadows on the ground. Mira felt a sense of calm settle over her as they walked. The forest was her sanctuary, a place where she felt free—free to climb, explore, and dream without the weight of the outside world pressing down on her, without tomorrow weighting down on her.

As they reached the shop, the scent of freshly cut wood filled the air, mingling with the faint smell of sawdust. Their father was busy at work, shaping a piece of timber with a chisel. He looked up and smiled when he saw them.

"Look its my two favourite people in town!" Jonas wiped his brow, the sun glinting off his sweat-dampened hair. 

"Got the log you asked for dad! whats this one gonna be?" Eli answered, his tone cheerful. 

"This one's gonna be a table for the mayor! He wants a new one for next years reaping, apparently some officials broke his last night after getting drunker then a saw on a Saturday" He chuckles to himself.

After unloading the log, Mira noticed the unease in the air. The Reaping loomed like a dark shadow over their lives. Soon lunch break begin and the chatter in the workshop turned to hushed tones, the reality of their situation creeping into their conversations.

"Mira," Eli said, his voice low, "are you ready for tomorrow? I know it's a lot, but you've got to be brave."

She looked down at her food, one slice of bread, slightly stale as it was on sale when dad bought the bread earlier this week. "I'll be fine. it's my first year... my names only in there once... its almost impossibly it will be me..."  Her voice trailed off, the thought heavy.

Out of the 30,000 people who live in district 7, 3518 of them are eligible for the draw. Most of them took tesseraes, and many have there name in the pot 12 or more times. I only have 1, she thought, only one. My brother Eli only has 4, out of all the names its unlikely we will be picked. Very very unlikely.

Eli reached across to her, placing a reassuring hand on hers. "Whatever happens, we'll be fine"

Mira nodded, though her heart felt like a stone in her chest. After lunch, she and Eli decided to take a walk in the woods to clear their minds. The tree whisper as the wind blows through them, and for a moment, the reality of the Reaping faded away.