Capitol Crime | Hunger Games

2

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The Reaping Ceremony

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Lynette stood silently behind her Aunt, back straight and hands clasped before her. She didn't understand why she had to be there for this part. Why wasn't she wasn't allowed to just wait on the train? It's not like she had anything to say or do during the Reaping Ceremony.

For some reason, the teen always had to stand on stage behind the District's Escort, silently waiting for the Reaping to pass.

So far, it was nothing like the District One reaping she was forced to attend the year prior. All the kids there were covered in muscle and shining with pride. They looked eager, some were even excited, all waiting for the names to be called so they could fight to volunteer.

Here, it was so much worse.

She was forced to look out into the sea of dirty-faced children, all hopelessly looking in her direction. The kids here were lanky and skinny—she could've sworn she even saw the outlines of a few ribs through some of their shirts and the edges of their hip bones cutting through the material of their tattered pants. The vacant looks in their eyes sent shivers down her spine, it was such a strange mix of emotions plastered on their faces. Equal parts helpless, terrified, and accepting.

It was like they knew they were going to die, and there was nothing they could do to change it. Some as young as 13, seeming as though they've already accepted the worst. 

There was no hope here, no excitement, no pride, and no sound.

Just silence.

It was clear that no one would be fighting in masses, eager to volunteer here.

Lynn wished her Aunt would just cut through the speech. It made sense to fluff up the Reaping in the Career Districts, but here? It felt like the two of them stood on the stage—gleaming in jewels, draped in layers upon layers of fabric—vigorously rubbing salt into all of their wounds.

It seemed as if hours had passed before Effie finally walked back to the microphone, the first slip of paper in her hands.

No, not the first paper. The first tribute. The first person. The first child.

"Primrose Everdeen!"

And for a moment, everything was still. There was no movement in the crowd, not a sound to be heard. Alas, Lynette could've sworn that she had never been in a louder place.

The teen's heart shattered in her chest when the crowd parted, separating itself from a small blonde girl as if she were a deadly disease. In a way, she was, but she would be the only victim. She was so young and so, so small. There was no way she would last a second in the arena.

Then, a girl closer to her own age parted from the crowd. She screamed as she pushed against the Peacekeepers who dared try to restrain her. "No! I volunteer! I volunteer!" She shrieked shoving against the men dragging her away, standing tall and alone, "I volunteer as tribute."

If Lynnette's heart shattered before, now it felt like someone was stomping on all the pieces left, making it their mission to turn the shards into a fine powder. Her eyes stayed trained upon the two girls as her Aunt spoke.

She wanted to leap forward and rip the microphone away from the woman. Yes, a volunteer was usually exciting, but now? Now it was heartbreaking. A decision made from desperation, not pride.