𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝 - 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌

one

DISTRICT 7

74th REAPING DAY

____

AUGUST GRAY HAD a tendency to often forget his dreams after waking up. Even after his games, which were now almost fifteen years ago, he woke up in cold sweat, but could never quite seem to recall what he dreamed about. Though it was clear to him, that it was most likely about the games.

But even after years of trying, he could not remembering what part of the games brought him those nightmares. Was it seeing Bishop's corpse? Or was it the cold blooded murder of the girl from two?
August couldn't remember, and maybe that was a good thing. Maybe he was in luck to not have to remeber seeing those things in his dreams, or at least not remebring

The sounds of chirping outside his room, brought him out of his stare down with the celling. The white wood was splitting and the light brown underneath the paint started to show through. He thought to paint it over one of these days, at least that gave him something to do.

The life of a victor was quite sad, to say the least. Not just were you doomed to live with the reminder that for your life, twenty-three children had to give theirs, but you also were doomed to go back to the damned place that caused it all, year after year, just so say goodbye to another two kids. And after that, you were sent back home, just to live with your thoughts, slowly going mad.

August hated it. Even though he now had money and a fancy house. His friend Blight as a neighbour and a cat, life was horrible. A girl, Johanna Mason, who had won the games three years ago, came by at least once a day, just to keep busy and bother August. He had long accepted that the twenty year old, didn't care about him wanting her to leave him alone, so he just let her do her thing.

The digital clock on his beside table smiled at him grimly, clearly showing that it was too late to fall back asleep, and even if there would be time, he doubted to be even able to fall asleep again. His mind was too woozy, as the upcoming event of the day itched closer.

The day of the reaping, was most of the time, worse than all the other days. The day he was to return to the place that killed the boy inside of him, and left him with nothing but the shell of laughters of his childhood.

August assumed that the anniversary of this very day fifteen years ago, might bring up some trauma. At least that is what he had heard. Aniversary of traumatic events, often brought out repressed emotions. That's what Blight told him once, as he had talked to the Districts psychological advisor.

He wasn't a therapist per say, seeing as that couldn't be seen as a very efficient job for District seven, but they needed something like that to keep the work ethic going. So a psych advisor was appointed. He was to help people who lost someone to keep them working and was to tell if someone was capable of working.

More than once there was an accident in which a worker had seen someone die because of a work accident and went mad. One time one guy saw his brother get decapitated by a malfunctioning saw, and went on a spree to kill as many people as he could. No one knew why. It seems that he blamed everyone around him for his brothers death. After that the mayor, thought it was better to have someone to judge the mental capacity of the workers to not let that happen again. Because mad people shouldn't be handed axes.

August jumped in bed, when he heard an obnoxious knocking coming from his front door. He didn't even need to guess who it was as the familiar voice already shouted from the outside.
"Open the door! Hey, old man, I know you're in there!"