Manqué - A Hunger Games Fanfiction

Shock - District Three Reapings

Gabriella Ryell (D3, 16) P.OV

THUD! I wince as the young boy cries out, tenderly cradling his knee from his new-found position on the floor. Visibly steeling himself he makes a futile attempt to stand, however he promptly goes rigid and falls back down with a choked off cry. The older boys laugh, towering over him and gazing down at their victim with disgust. "Street urchin," One of them hisses before spitting on the boy. Eyes wide, my head snaps around to look at my brother. He is standing stiff as a board by my side, his small hands balled tightly into fists and jaw clenched.
"Rys..." I begin cautiously. "Don't. It's not worth it. Not this time."
"They can't do that Gabby. It's not fair, and no one else even cares!" I look around and realize he's right. The street is full of people, primarily teenagers heading towards the Justice Building for the reaping. Despite this, everybody passes without stopping to help the boy or even showing any sign they have noticed, heads bowed guiltily and gazes turned the opposite way. If not for Rys, I myself would have joined them; however bad the guilt, the beating I would receive from the bullies should I try to help the boy would surely be worse. This notion, however, doesn't affect my brother. He takes a shaky step forwards, then another, eyes fixed on the tear streaked face of the boy on the floor. I grasp his upper arm in an attempt to prevent him from moving any further and drawing attention to himself.
"Rys, please. Those boys are easily five years your senior, three years mine. As if we could stop them." I begin to quietly plead with him to ignore it, to just go to the reaping now, the boy will be ok - however it's no use. He shakes off my hand and strides the rest of the way to the boy. The bullies, however, don't notice him until he speaks.
"Leave him alone." Rys's voice is quiet yet commanding, and his stance confident. The older boys turn, surprised, however when they see Rys their surprise morphs to sarcastic amusement.
"What have we here? Another one to join the party? How lovely," The oldest boy, now clearly the leader of the pack, smirks down at Rys patronizingly.
"I said; Leave. Him. Alone." Rys does not seem fazed much to the apparent irritation of the bullies.
"What if I don't, huh?" The leader snaps, before giving the boy another solid kick to the ribs for affect. "You going to run home crying to mummy? Tell her about the big bad-" However, before he can finish Rys's fist snaps up and punches the leader square in the nose. My hands fly up to my mouth as I gasp. The bully, however, goes deathly calm. He reaches up slowly to his nose and brings his finger tips back down slick with blood. Eyes shifting slowly to Rys's defiant expression, he says two words devoid of emotion that in any other place or time would be innocent, however in this context they send cold fingers of dread shooting up my spine.
"Let's party." And with that the four bullies descend upon my brother like a pack of bloodthirsty hounds. The sickening sound of fists impacting on flesh and my brother's grunts reaches my ears easily from here. In the back of my mind I know I must save him before he is beaten to death, however I am frozen to the ground with shock and horror. By brothers grunts become cries of pain as the bullies work themselves into a frenzy.  His cries finally succeed in breaking through the muted feeling of shock and spurs me into action. I dash forward, throwing myself between the bullies and Rys in order to shield him from their heavy blows. Thankfully, almost immediately after I begin to take the brunt of the blows strong hands grab the bullies and roughly drag them back, effectively breaking up the fight. I glance up and immediately recognize the white clad forms of peacekeepers. Without preamble, they roughly drag the bullies away down the street in the direction of the Justice Building. I know without a doubt they will be punished. Not for brutally attacking the innocent, I think bitterly, but for doing it on reaping day. Any other time and the peacekeepers turn a blind eye. I kneel by my brothers prone form, tenderly brushing back hair from his forehead and dabbing at the blood which has begun to seep from a shallow cut on his forehead with the edge of my reaping dress. Though it pains me I know despite my brothers weak condition we must still attend the reaping, which will be commencing any minute now. After the reaping Rys will need medical attention for some of his cuts and bruises, for if left untreated there is a chance he could develop an infection. That it, if we are still here. It's the reaping after all - anything could happen.
____________________________________________________________________________________

Rys Ryell (D3, 14) P.O.V

An unpleasant ache is what I notice first as I begin to emerge from blissful unconsciousness. The ache feels almost bone deep and no matter how still I lie it does not fade. Groaning, I struggle to open my eyes. The harsh combination of blinding sunlight and swelling makes it impossible to open one eye, and exceedingly difficult to open the other. I groan, attempting to prop myself up on my elbows however this only causes the ache to become more intense.
"Rys," A gentle voice murmurs and Gabriella swims before my vision, grey eyes wide and concerned.
"Wha..." I mumble incoherently.
"Rys, I'm sorry, but we have to go. The reaping is about to start, and you know what happens to those who are late." She is right, and this knowledge motivates me to begin to stagger to my feet. Last year, a 12 year old girl was late to the reaping because she had a lame foot and could not travel as fast as he other children; she was automatically entered into the games as tribute, and she was the first to die in the bloodbath. In the present, Gabriella wraps my arm around her shoulder and hauls me to my feet. Together, we stagger towards the reaping. We can only pray we are not too late.
After what feels like an eternity later Gabby and I arrive at the reapings, bidding each other good luck and heading off to our own age groups; her to the 16 year olds and me to the 14 year olds. As I inch my way carefully past my peers and into a free space I try my best to ignore their horrified expressions and poorly concealed stares at my bloody clothing and purple, swollen eye. Instead, I stare straight ahead at the stage where our escort has just emerged and retreat into myself, tuning out the initial formalities of the reaping. A while later as the formalities finally begin to come to an end I crane my neck back and scan the crowd for any sign of Gabby. Eventually I locate her and our eyes lock, silently conveying our absolute terror.
"Now, ladies and gentlemen, it is time for the reaping to begin!" Exclaims the escort cheerfully, her unnaturally blue eyes wide and excited. "As per tradition, ladies first!"
My eyes never leave Gabby as our escort clicks over to the girl's large glass reaping bowl, even as she reaches daintily inside and plucks out her first victims name. Silence is a thick blanket upon the town square, so thick it is almost tangible. I wish she would read the name already, I'm not sure how much more of this I can stand. However I immediately wish I could take that thought back as she shatters the silence with two words I had hoped with all my heart I would never hear uttered at the reapings.
"Gabriella Ryell." Gabby's eyes immediately widen and her face turns sickly pale. Visibly shaking, she breaks eye contact with me and begins to shuffle her way towards the stage. The crowd parts around her as if she has the plague so the path to the stage is clear. She reaches half way however it becomes clear from the way she sways unsteadily on her feet that she can go no further. The escort gestures offhandedly and two peacekeepers approach her and escort her the rest of the way to the stage, hands clamped firmly on her shoulders.
"What is your name dear?" Asks the escort sweetly, although she clearly already knows the answer.
"G-Gabriella Ryell. I'm s-si-sixt-teen." She stutters out. My eyes begin to tear up at the sight of her. Ever since she was young she could lapse into severe shock if something triggered it, however this is the worse I've ever seen it. I know full well that she has no chance in the games, not in this state.
"Very well, take a seat. Now, the boys." If possible, the tension in the audience is even thicker after having witnessed Gabby's reaping. Everybody is silently hoping that whoever is reaped next is s fighter so district three at least has a chance of winning this year, while at the same time hoping with all their might that it is not themselves or anyone they know. I catch Gabby's gaze, which is fractionally calmer, and know what I must do. The instant our escorts grotesquely long nails catch one of the small slips of white paper I step forward confidently, calling out in a clear voice.
"I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE." Gasps sound from the crowd as I stride forward as confidently and steadily as I can in my current state towards the stage, my sister and my impending fate.
"What is your name dear, and how old are you?" Questions the escort, shock plain on her face at my beaten up appearance.
"I am Rys Ryell, 14 year old brother of Gabriella Ryell," I state.
"If you don't mind me asking, what on earth happened to you?" The escort prompts, clearly excited at the prospect of how popular she will be in the Capitol after this reaping. Thinking quickly, I decide to use this situation in my favour to gain my sister and I sponsors.
"Let's just say I had a fight...and if you think this is bad, you should see the other guy." I can not help but find a small amount of pleasure in the startled look I receive at that.
"I see... Ladies and gentlemen, let's have a round of applause for District Three's tributes for the 101st annual hunger games: our very own brother and sister duo, Gabriella and Rys Ryell!" It is to thunderous applause we exit the stage, our district hopeful they have a fighter for once. I should be feeling hopeful too, however I can not ignore the feeling they will be bitterly disappointed.