Safe and Sound

Chapter Two - The Reaping

Those two days before the reaping had passed already and far too quickly in my opinion, and it was time for the Hunger Games to start. I still hadn't thanked that Grayson boy for giving me his rabbit. I had seen him about school. It had turned out he was in my year and he had just turned sixteen, but despite how much I had seen him about, I hadn't had the chance to catch him on my own and thank him properly. Perhaps it was because he had been ignoring me or because he was focusing on the Games. The Games. The sick, twisted form of entertainment that turned kids into monsters and murderers, that TV show that appealed so much to the people of the Capitol, that game where you had no choice but to kill or be killed.

I woke up with a bad feeling about the day ahead. There was something about today that seemed different, but I couldn't quite place a finger on it. I got up and slouched down the stairs to see what outfit my mother had prepared for me.

It certainly wasn't actually what I was expecting.

I got downstairs to see my mother was in the kitchen, nose stuck in a cookery book, obviously trying to find a recipe that used the least amount of food. She looked up from her recipe book and tilted her head to the side, shaking it slightly in an almost disapproving manner.

"Now, we can't let you go the reaping wearing your pyjamas. Come on, follow me. Your father helped me pick something out for you." She said, sounding kinder than usual, which didn't seem like quite a good sign to me. Maybe it was because she finally realised she could lose her daughter to the Games. Maybe it was because she finally realised that I was worth a little more than my while. Whatever the reason, it certainly couldn't be good. However, the fact that my father had helped gave me a little bit of hope.

My mother lead me out of the kitchen and up the stairs towards my parents' room. She opened the door and my father looked up from the book he was holding. He was still bedbound, but he seemed to have perked up a little bit because of that rabbit. He had managed to savour every last bit of it. If only I could give him more good, cooked food. He might even have a chance of surviving. My mother gestured for me to sit down at the end of the bed, so I did. I didn't want to annoy her now.

"Close your eyes." Mother said as she walked over to her wardrobe. I squeezed my eye shut, feeling very much like a child again. My father used to play these games with me, it always used to cheer me up and made me feel so much better, to put a smile on my face, "Okay, now open them." My eyes opened and widened at the sight of the dress my mother held in her arms. It was my great aunt's reaping dress, from the Hunger Games she had been chosen for. I didn't know what to say. It was beautiful, but it had some sort of bad aura surrounding it, "Your father and I chose it for you, like I said. He thought it would suit you."

I looked up to my father, who had a faint smile on his face. I couldn't help but return that smile, even if it was ever so slightly forced. I looked back at the dress. It was light green, made of cotton and came to my knees. It had thick straps, covering most of my collarbone, but they stopped just before the edge of my shoulder. Around it was some sort of wide, darker green belt, which was also made of cotton and stitched onto the material.

"Put it on." My mother said. I reached out and took the dress in my hands. It was probably the best garment I would put on, well, that is if I didn't get picked for the Hunger Games. I scurried to my bedroom and took my nightgown off and put some underwear on. I sighed at how my hip bones stuck out slightly, but I tried my best to ignore it. I then walked back into my mother's room and smiled to my mother. She helped me slip the material over my head. I looked down. The darker green, sash like belt pinched in at my waist and allowed the skirt to flow out. It stopped right at my knee and when I swayed my hips, the skirt moved about.

"I love it, thank you, thank you so much." I whispered in amazement as I stroked the material. My mother beamed at me then bent down and pulled out something from underneath her bed. She held a pair of plain, black flats with little bows on them to me. I took them and slipped them onto my feet. I wiggled my toes about in them, beaming at how my feet looked somewhat attractive instead of bony and frankly, almost scary. I looked up at my mother, not able to thank her enough, but she hadn't quite finished with me yet.

* * *

After fifteen minutes of tugging a brush through my hair mercilessly, my mother had managed to pull my hair into a high ponytail and had wrapped a piece of hair around the hairband, disguising it so it looked like I had tied my hair up with my own hair. It looked elegant and tidy yet the actual ponytail was wavy, like it actually had some form of texture and life. I loved it, but I had suspicions about my mother's kindness.

I did one last twirl for my parents to find them both beaming at me. For once in my life, I actually felt a little bit beautiful. My father couldn't beam, but he was near enough for me to work out that he was proud of me. I smiled at my parents, feeling as if I was a normal child that wasn't going to be put forward to become a vicious, insane monster. It then occurred to me, all normal children and teenagers were put forward to become vicious insane monsters. That dampened my spirits, but only slightly. My mother then got up and declared it was time for breakfast. She left the room and I was about to follow her, but I was cut off by a weak voice saying my name.

"Harper...co-come here." I turned around to see my father trying to prop himself up enough to talk to me. I hurried over to him and sat next to him, pushing him back down gently, in case he hurt himself by straining his body too much.

"Yes, father?" I asked, holding his hand and rubbing it with my thumb. My father managed to reach out and hold the side of my face. He stroked my cheek slightly, a proud glint evident in his eye as his cold fingers touched my warm skin.

"M-my beautiful daughter, p-please. I be-beg you. All I a-ask is f-for you to co-come home tonight, do n-not get chosen. Do n-not get chosen. I refuse to s-spend my dau-daughter's sixteenth b-birthday watching h-her fight to the de-death." My father said, struggling to form words in his mouth. He was so weak and it hurt me seeing him in this way. I could feel tears coming along, but I held them back. I had to show my father I was strong.

"Father, I cannot prevent myself from being chosen, but I know I will come home tonight. I have to. If I do, which is very likely, I will go out and get you three of those rabbits that I got you a couple of days ago. And a squirrel. If I could, I might even try and get some seasoning and goat's cheese from the Hob by collecting some berries. Father, whatever happens, I want you to keep fighting and to not give in to this illness. Do you promise?" I said to him, pleading with him. My father's eyes were wet and mine felt slightly damper than usual too, but we both fought back, trying to push those unwanted tears back into our tear ducts. I squeezed his hand once more and my father did his best to squeeze back.

"Harper!" My mother's shrill cry rang up the stairs, "I made you some breakfast! Leftover carrot soup, delicious!" I sighed to myself, feeling rather exasperated yet grateful towards my mother. She really was making an effort today, but she had just broken a special moment between my father and I.

"Coming mother!" I called back, before turning to my father once more, "Do you promise?" I demanded of him again. I kept my voice soft, but firm. My father nodded slowly, the tears seeming to be threatening to fall more than ever.

"I-I do." He said. With that, I hugged him as gently as I could, got up, kissed his cheek and eventually made my way downstairs to eat my slither of cold, carrot soup, hoping my father would be able to keep to his hastily made promise.

_______

Time seemed to tick away slowly, but at last, one o'clock came around and the reaping was to begin in an hour's time, the most nervous time for all families from all the Districts. It was a time of tension, relief and grief all around. The reaping itself was sickening enough, let alone having the Games thrown in shortly afterwards. It was the event that all twelve to eighteen year olds feared the most. It was the time that tore families apart and broke the hearts of many people. It was awful.

I went to the square with my mother, said goodbye, and signed in. The camera crew sitting spread out on the rooftops made my breath hitch in my throat. They had done every year, there was something about them that made me scared, made me worry that the whole of Panem could see me. I didn't want that and I certainly didn't want to make a fool of myself. I knew I was hidden by the crowds, but I always had this fear that I would do something and it would be caught on camera for the whole country to witness. That was my biggest fear besides losing my father and getting chosen to be in the Hunger Games itself, or even both.

I gathered near to the back, seeing as I was fifteen and going to be sixteen in a week and a bit's time. I hoped I was going to be alive for my sixteenth birthday, but I was most likely going to be fighting to the death if I was going to be alive. It was either that or I would be at school. I hoped I would be at school rather than in the arena. Think positive, Harper! You keep saying stuff that scares you, I scolded myself in my head, there is quite a high chance that you won't even get picked, anyway!

At last, after a pitiful hour of the roped area getting more and more tightly packed, the clock stroke two and the Hunger Games had technically and officially begun. The atmosphere was tense and you could probably hear a pin drop as the clock finished chiming. I usually liked the sound of the clock chime, but this time it was daunting and went on for too long.

The Mayor, who was now looking older than usual, had stepped up and started reading that story that we were all so familiar with. I was surprised this man was still going. How old was he now, late seventies? Hardly anybody got to that age when living in District 12, so I was quite impressed. The Mayor droned on about the history of Panem: the disasters, storms, fires, seas that swallowed up almost the whole country and of course, the war. To be honest, it wasn't my favourite story in the world, seeing as I had heard it and read it many times, but this time it seemed to go on much longer than it usually did. I began to get more panicky, it felt bad. Very bad. Maybe the Mayor seemed had rewritten everything and extended it, giving it this more tedious and tense feel to it. Maybe it was because he was talking slower that usual, because of his old age. That had to be it. I had to stop taking these minor things as bad omens, but everything that had been going on recently was making me think that the odds were definitely not in my favour, especially on this present day.

After introducing Haymitch, who was still as drunk as he was in Katniss and Peeta's time, the Mayor decided to hurry himself and introduce Effie, who looked almost exactly as she did ages ago, due to the special treatments they give in the Capitol for looking young. All that seemed different about her was that she was a tad bit wider around the waist line, but besides that, she was the same Effie Trinket that teetered about on her heels and wore a pinkish wig that seemed to be almost always off centre. Still, she remained with District 12 and it was obvious she was quite annoyed at this. However, she remained as bright and bouncy as she always had done in her extravagant outfit and high heels.

"Happy Hunger Games!" She called out in her funny Capitol accent to the crowd of people who didn't seem very happy whatsoever, "And may the odds be ever in your favour!" Effie then trotted over to the glass bowl, like she always had done, with the girl tributes inside, "Ladies first." She reminded the crowd, flashing us all a too-white-to-be-true grin as she pulled a name out and walked back to the podium. She then placed the piece of paper on it, smoothing it right out, making sure all the creases were gone, causing everyone to become impatient and feel even more tense. As she opened her mouth, everyone sucked in their breath. The parents, the boys, the girls. Everyone. Even the animals seemed to have gone quiet. All that could be heard were the brightly coloured banners of the market flapping about in the breeze.

It can't be me.

It just can't.

It can't and it won't.

"Harper Anselin!"