Indy's Games | Hunger Games Fanfic

The Reaping

I wake up early, still in my clothes from yesterday listening to the soft sound of Fern's breathing next to me. It's still hot but not nearly as hot as when I went to bed yesterday. All is silent until I hear a whisper,
"Indy? Indy? Are you awake?" It's Rory. Why is Rory awake? He went to bed after me and it must be very early.
"Yeah Ror Ror I'm awake. The question is, why are you?" I reply. In the summer moonlight I can make out Rory's face, he seems exhausted. It looks like he hasn't slept all night.
"I couldn't sleep. All I could think about the reaping and w..what if I'm reaped?" his scared little voice tells me. I get up out of my bed and move over to the one that he and Posey shares.
"Budge up," I tell him. He smiles and moves over to make space for me. He puts his head on my shoulder and sobs for a moment, everything in me hurts. He should not be like this, he's too young to be this scared. I put my arm around him and hug him until he calms down. "You know how unlikely it is for you to be picked Ror Ror? Have you seen how many people are in our village alone? There are so many boys older than you with their names in the bowl more times. I promise you, you'll be okay." I mean it with every fibre in my being, it's my job to protect him and as his sister I can not the way I can protect Fern or Posey. If Rory gets chosen I have no choice but to let him go, there is nothing I can do. Eventually Rory calms down, he stops shaking and falls asleep his head on my shoulder and his hands on my stomach. Usually when he's scared I can help, I can protect him. Whether it's from peacekeepers or poverty I can protect him, but I can't right now this is one battle I have to let him fight.
I don't sleep anymore. I lay awake while Rory sleeps on me and worry, not about myself, not about Fern, but about him, but about Rory. Rory has no protection, yes it's so unlikely that it could happen but it can. It can and it has. His name is only in the bowl once, he's as safe as you can get but it doesn't feel safe enough. I feel like I need to take his name out the bowl and put mine inside it a hundred times, I need him to be safe. Of course I can't do that, but it's a nice thought. It comforts me until I settle down. Rory will be fine.
Then the whole village arises, it seems so sudden. So many lights turn on and suddenly our house is bustling with madness. My mother comes in and lays clothes onto each of our beds, I've got a white shirt with small pink flowers and a denim skirt. It's my mother's from when she was younger, I recognise it. Once I'm dressed, Sable comes over to me and sits cross legged behind me on my mattress. She takes the comb I use and begins to untangle my curly blonde hair. But while she does this, all I can look at is Rory. I can only see Rory in myself, because out of the five of us he's the only one that looks like me. Sable, Fern and Posey all look like the spitting image of our father. He's a typical village man with dark skin, dark eyes and black curly hair. My mother though is from the merchant section, but in order to marry my father she had to live here. She looks like a merchant girl, blonde hair, pale skin and light eyes. Though Rory and I have wavy hair instead of straight like mum's we also both look like merchant children.
When I look up I see what Sable has done with my hair. On each side of my head she's done a plait, not a normal one but a fancy one. She's called it Dutch plait. Each plait goes to the back of my head and eventually ends up in a ponytail of my blonde waves. I smile. For once in my life I feel pretty, actually pretty like the girls I see from District 1 on the television every now and again. I look over my family, not perfectly looking but perfect in every other way.
My mother, father and Sable are dressed in the same clothes they wore last year. Now Sable is no longer in the reaping bowl, she just wears the same dress each year and tags along with our mother and father. Fern is dressed in one of Sable's old dresses. She looks so beautiful, her darker features complement the crimson of the dress so nicely. Mum has tied her hair back so sweetly as well she almost looks like an angel if the angel was to wear red. Rory's hair is brushed back and he's wearing a shirt and suit trousers, I know they are second hand, probably from another child in the village, because mum has has to sew them up in certain areas. But he looks good. Posey is looking as sweet as ever, her hair is pinned back with a bow and she's wearing a little pink flower dress.
The walk over to the square is only half the way to get to work. I walk hand in hand with Rory, who seems to have calmed down a bit now. He seems more relaxed as he walks, like he's realised I'm right. Rory is safe. Half way Posey gets tired so I scoop her up and hold her on my hip, but I never let go of Rory's hand. It kind of feels like he needs me to hold him together and without it he'll completely fall apart.
When we get to the square thousands of families are lining the square. I hold Rory's hand tighter, and pass Posey over to Sable. Then I follow Fern as she pushes through the crowds of worried parents, elders who just want to go home, and young adults who are glad their names are no longer in the bowl. I look to the boys section, and bring Rory to the front. I make him stand next to his best friend Stone while I go join the other fifteen year old girls.
It seems like we made it just in time as when I get into place, Ozzy Montclair the escort of the tributes in beginning her speech.
"Wecome all, and happy Hunger Games!" She begins. Ozzy has a strange look to her, as do all the people on the Capitol really. Her skin is very white. Like not merchant girl pale, but white. The hair (or is it a wig?) is bright blue matching her eyebrows. All the extravagant makeup done on her face is done in the same shade of blue. "May the odds be ever in your favour. As usual ladies first..." This is the part I dread the most. Last year the words which came out of her mouth was the name of my best friend, the person I love the dearest. All I can think is, don't let it be Fern. Don't be Fern. As she unravels the slip of paper and reads the name I realise my thoughts worked. It's not Fern, the name she reads out is not Fern Fields.
It's Indy Fields.
It's me. I'm the tribute for District 11 this year. I'm getting shipped off to my death this year, this year it isn't Rowan's turn, this year it is mine. I walk up to the stage and stand behind the large bowl containing all the girls names. There are hundreds of thousands of names in this bowl, my name was only in there eighteen times. How could it be me?
I want to cry, but I don't get the chance. As now I'm up here Ozzy dips her hand in the boys bowl. I want to scream, I want to scream into President Snow so even the darkest parts of him can hear me. Why is he doing this to us? Not Rory. Not Rory, anyone but Rory. A sigh of relief hits my mouth when she reads out the name and I realise it isn't Rory. But my moment of relief is cut short when I realise that the name read out is actually Harper. Harper Rowe.