"You're like the ocean Rowan. Breathtaking to look at, strong enough to not be destroyed, and gentle enough to make people find comfort in your presence."
IN WHICH THE GENTLEST GIRL BECOMES THE FIRST FEMALE VICTOR FROM DISTRICT 12.
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THERE WAS SUDDENLY CRYING no, wailing in Rowan's ear that she could hear over her pulse thumping wildly. ROWAN OVERWOOD. Where was it coming from? She couldn't tell but god whoever it was, was loud. ROWAN OVERWOOD. Why couldn't she move? ROWAN OVERWOOD. Why couldn't she even see? ROWAN OVERWOOD. What was going on? ROWAN OVERWOOD.
Abruptly Rowan was yanked away from where her feet were bonded into the ground only it wasn't because of her. Ember had been clinging on to Rowan with the strength of a bear, not allowing the peacekeepers to lead Rowan to the stage where Effie had just called her name. Ember was screaming till her voice broke and Rowan soon realized she couldn't see due to the tears accumulating in her eyes, she blinked releasing the tears to slip down her cheeks as some unknown peacekeeper escorted her to the stage.
She could barely register Effie beckoning benevolently but what she couldn't see was the slight grimace on the purple dressed woman's face. She had heard Haymitch talk about her enough times to know exactly who Rowan Overwood was.
When she got to the stage overlooking the district she could see the grim faces, faces that knew she would never be seen again. Many people in the district had crossed paths at least once or twice with Rowan, they knew what kind of girl she was. She was kind and thoughtful. She collected flowers and made medicine for people who were ill. She wasn't a fighter and she was as good as dead already.
She glanced behind her hoping to catch a glimpse of Haymitch's face to make her feel safe but the chair he sat in moments ago was now empty. More tears fell from her eyes. In the back of the crowd, she could see Ember being hauled away by two peacekeepers, kicking and screaming. She could only hope it was Orion and Ryker who collected her and would just take her away to calm down peacefully and not punish her for the disruption.
"Great! Happy to have you, dear," Effie beamed, "Can we get a round of applause for this year's female tribute?" Effie urges the crowd who gawked blankly at her. No one clapped, no one cheered. In some Districts being the tribute was great pride, they even trained for it, but in District 12 no one thought the games were something to be happy about.
Effie cleared her throat at the awkward silence the district responded to her with. "Not to worry! There is more excitement to come! Now for the male tribute!" She walked from the microphone to the other glass bowl with paper slips as Rowan stared out at the crowd. She wasn't looking at anyone in particular, just staring. Her pulse was still pounding loudly in her ears and she could feel her body convulsing without control.
ROWAN OVERWOOD. Her name echoed over and over and over inside her head. She was chosen. She was picked. She was a tribute. She was going to die.
