Safe and Sound - Hunger Games AU

The Reaping - 1

All around stood the sunken eyed children, each dressed in their versions of Sunday best. Few actually wore store bought clothes. But the majority were clad in rags sewn together to represent some form of dress or suit. Everyone stood in the square, rows upon rows of children between thirteen and eighteen. Females stood on one side, males on the other, separated by a line of peacekeepers. As always, the capitol was trying to promote freedom by cramming us into this tiny square with our shoulders touching and no personal space. They were the most hypocritical, only paying attention to the wealthier districts that specialised in weaponry manufacture and hand to hand combat. Those districts received hospitality, running water, easily accessible food and medicine. We were stuck with fighting for our lives trading possessions for food at the local marketplace. But it was what we had become accustomed to in district 13. The lowest district on the hierarchy. Next to no wealth. We had to rely on local chemists and doctors to survive with a disease or injury. And now we were stood, all two thousand of us, with our parents and other district residents behind a barrier, keeping them away from us to prevent some sort of rebellion.

A collective breath was held when Effie Trinkett plunged her hand into the large bowl containing every teenage female's name in the district. She drew out a card, and just before she removed the tape, was cut off by a loud static noise. A projected message was shown on the wall of the town hall. “In celebration of the 125th Annual Hunger Games, an alteration shall be made for this year's quarter quell.” it read, complete with subtitles for those hard of hearing. It was well known that most men from our district had lost their hearing down in the mines due to explosions and pressure. “Two tributes from each gender group will be reaped. In the event of a name being reaped twice, another tribute shall be reaped. Four tributes will be sent forward from each district. May the odds be ever in your favour.” The message on the screen flickered and disappeared, causing everyone in the reaping to hold a breath and feel their blood run cold. Effie placed the name card back in the bowl and shuffled the cards around slightly. She removed her hand and held it behind her back. “After that sudden turn of events, I'm sure you will all be glad to know that you have four tributes to be reaped this year. Oh, how exciting it is!” she said gleefully, showing off that sickeningly white smile. Without any further hesitation, she plunged her hand back into the bowl and retrieved a card. She pulled the black tape back, torturing each person in the crowd. “Sally Donovan.” she called into the microphone, watching each head turn to one girl of sixteen years old. She was one of the wealthier people in the district, with a family of lawyers. Everyone watched as her smile dropped and her eyes widened. A peacekeeper marched her towards the stage and she simply stood, shaking like a leaf in the breeze. Effie greeted her and shook her hand, offering her another one of those blinding smiles. The process was repeated for the second female, Sarah Sawyer. Who was orphaned at the age seven, so had nobody to leave behind. Nobody to say goodbye to in the communication rooms. Then, Effie drew a card up out of the male bowl. I froze and made eye contact with John Watson, the closest thing to me. The probability of him being reaped was small, but still there. It was agonizing, watching the worry in his eyes. My heart rate sped up and sent chills down my spine. The name card was unfolded and the tape was pulled back. “John Hamish Watson.” She called. John's eyes closed slowly and he stepped forward. A sudden wave of panic hit me and I pushed forward in the crowd, too distraught to notice the second card being drawn. “I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!” I yelled, battling against a peacekeeper to stop John from leaving the crowd. “Sherlock Holmes.” I was pushed forward by a peacekeeper and lead to the stage beside John. I took his hand and squeezed it, keeping it close out of the fear of losing him if I let go. I remained silent when he was pulled up onto the stage, dismissing Effie's question about the relationship between the two. She repeated herself, obviously trying to look good in front of the large audience and few cameras broadcasting onto live television. “Are the two of you close friends?” she repeated, snapping me out of my angry, unfocused state. I nodded and released John's hand. “Close.” I whispered into the microphone. I listened half heartedly to Effie's further speech, already forming an elaborate plan to keep John alive in the games.