The Princess and The Owl // Johanna Mason x OC

Chapter 19 - I Want You

The morning wakes with an uncharacteristically eerie spark, filling the dew-soaked land with harsh, crisp light. Not having to bother with picking an outfit (as it's white, white or - surprisingly - white), she secures her helmet over her tired eyes. Only six hours to go.

The preparations continue smoothly, yet the uncomfortable churning in her stomach fills her attention with only a deep dread. Ellis will be in attendance, and will be paraded like a circus animal. But she will live.

As for the other four: Athena just hopes they have found what little peace they can in a situation so far from peaceful. But this is reality of the Capitol's iron-fist control over the Districts. Despite this, the system is only one step-too-far before the shackles are unwillingly wrenched free.

"The Mayor has invited you to breakfast, Commander," a message runner informs her once she enters the control room. She nods to him in understanding, before shooing him away.

She doesn't go, only arriving at 'The Sun' as originally planned. In the vast market place stands four execution blocks and the reaping bowl (on a plain, wooden pedestal).

At 11 am, the local citizens of the district are marched into the square in a frigid silence. They initially form uniform rows, yet these begin to contort and shift by the sheer number of people.

At 11:45, everyone necessary is stationed at their posts. 4 identical executioners stand to attention behind the blocks, with their rifles loaded with only a single round. The square is silent, other than the scraping and shuffling of feet, and the odd command from a watchful Peacekeeper. The Mayor stands on his balcony with a smug grin and champagne flute.

At 11:50, the national broadcast begins. The four Masons are marched out one by one and formally read a list of their crimes. All are guilty to murder, as well as resisting arrest and consciously inciting civil unrest. While this may appear a formality, this part is usually skipped on national broadcast. But today, it spells out only one thing: rebel, and face certain death.

At 11:55, the readings end. Even the conversations on the balcony cease. All is quiet in District 7. A minute's silence for Nicholas Blight.

At 11:56, at message from the President himself begins to play. He begins with a courteous tribute to the deceased Head Peacekeeper, and then issues an inexcusably strong warning, "All who rebel against our beloved Panem, bring certain doom to those who wish to dutifully play their part, and thrive in its beauty."

At 11:59, the President's message ends, and all attention returns to those in their final moments. It was supposedly Athena's job to yell the order for execution, yet she persuaded some people otherwise. She thought it would be more symbolic to have the town bell strike noon: the criminal's deaths were of no cause but their own, if not inevitable. But in reality, she was just too cowardly and selfish to do it herself. Those poor bell-ringers.

At 12:00, the bell tolls for noon as it does everyday. But on this day, the usual tune is concealed by the simultaneous discharge of four deafening firearms. There is no sound of collapsing corpses, only the faint clatter of shell casings. Staring fixedly on the reaping bowl, the rest of the world seems to dissolve around her.

At 12:05, the bodies had been cleared away ritualistically. The blood was wiped away within moments, and the blocks taken out of the square hastily. It was as if it had never happened. How symbolic. All that remains is the reaping bowl, now centre stage of everyone's attention. It was Athena's job to count out all 100 entries. Her hands clench firmly around the bag of papers as she runs her thumb along the coarse fibres.