After The Storm (A Hunger Games Fanfic)

District Three Reapings

For once the sun is shining on District Three. The rare beams of light glint off grey and white metallic buildings; even the houses here look like small laboratories. The predominantly blonde population shuffle out of their homes, blinking at the sun. They're too literal to think of it as an omen, but one or two will admit that it looks pretty.

Apart from the sun and the stage squatting in front of the Justice Building and the buzz of workers surrounding it, double checking the sound links, it looks just like a normal day in District Three. It's not that the people don't have any smart clothes, it's more that they don't have any special reaping clothes. They just wear their normal work outfits. Unlike in most of the other districts, the schools in District Three (it's big enough for there to be several) insist on their children wearing a uniform, so most of them are wearing that.

A long line of children stretches around the main entrance to the square. Children preparing for their first reaping cling to bigger brothers and sisters, who are trying their best to put on brave faces, knowing that it could be them. Several children yelp when the probe is dug into their finger. The woman is happy to ignore it; she's been doing so for the last twenty years.

With half an hour to go before the start, the machinery is shut down. They could keep it going - it's mostly done with robotics anyway - but District Three are sticklers for health and safety and the Mayor has decreed not to let the machines run while nobody is watching them.

All at once, the comforting thrum that surrounds District Three stops. Now the only sounds are the shuffles and mutters of the district's inhabitants and the light breeze whistling around the sharp edges of the buildings. A few people look up as if to see where the noise has gone and instantly turn their attention back to the ground; the sun is too bright.

Parents huddle in the square, floating aimlessly from one side to the other now they have nowhere specific to go. The children stand still in the pens, watching the perfectly level stage with worried expressions. The Mayor stands at the podium, testing the microphone. She's a young woman who only got the job when the old Mayor died before they could vote in a replacement. With such a lack of clear procedure, they panicked and appointed the first person they could think of; his daughter.

This is Tesla's second reaping. Her first was bad enough. The ceremonial red robes are too heavy for her and she's sweating badly under them. Last year she stumbled over the pre-reaping speech and tripped over the thick hem on her way off the stage after the tributes.

There's still five minutes left before the Capitol is due to switch to them, so she glances around the square to check that everything is okay. She had a bunch of volunteers out yesterday, making sure that everything was impeccably clean. District Three has an image to keep up. They've done a good job, and the unanticipated sunlight helps. Everything sparkles. Not in a showy District One way, but in a clean and efficient way. The parents are still drifting about randomly, but as it gets more and more crowded with families they start to slow down. Nobody here clutches good luck charms or lockets of their children's hair. One or two young couples hold hands over the fences, which breaks Tesla's heart every time she sees it. She did that with Volt, the year he was reaped...

It happens to a lot of people, she tells herself. That doesn't make it any easier.

"People of District Three!" she calls into the microphone, and everyone instantly stops whatever they were doing, not that they were doing much to start with, "Welcome to this year's reapings. Today we will say goodbye to two of our most promising youngsters" - she's supposed to add a 'possibly' in there but she doesn't have the heart to lie - "As we have done every year in living memory. So let us pause for a while, and think of those children who have unwillingly given their lives to keep harmony throughout Panem."