The day of the reaping was here. Beren's heart beat so fast, it nearly leapt out of her chest. Thud thud thud thud thud thud.
Beads of hot sweat trickled down her neck, making her dark hair stick to the back of it. Beren had not forgotten the events of last reaping. The shrill pierce of her mother's voice cut through every heart in District 12. Since then, the bloody death haunted her dreams each night, awakening her with the screams and curses her mother let out.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Let us start the reaping and may the odds be ever in your favor."
The reaping had started. Beren quickly shuffled to step into her place as Caroleene Trinket dug her hand into the very bottom of the glass and took the slip of paper. Please not her, please not her. Please.
Her heart pounded louder and louder and harder and harder, and Beren was sure everyone in District 12 must have heard the beat beat beat beat of her drumming heart.
Beren had only asked for two pounds of tesserae… surely she would be fine…right? Beren looked up at the glass bowl. In the mix of thousands of tickets, 20 of them had her name on it.
Beren remembered the time when there had been no Hunger Games, but thanks to Katniss, Peeta, and their daughter, Rose, that fantasy had been destroyed. She wondered why they would push the government to be rearranged—again—around their wants and their needs. There she was, Little Miss Perfect with her mother. They should be the ones in the game, not the innocent boys and girls who just happened to be reaped. Her thoughts were interrupted by the chipper voice of Caroleene Trinket.
"Beren Hawthorn."
Her heart stopped, her legs went numb, her blood ran cold, and her face paled. This couldn't be happening to her. The tesserae was a mistake. She felt light-headed as she walked over to the stage, trying not to let her fear show. She flipped her dark hair, hoping that would beam out confidence that she didn't have.
"Any volunteers?" Her eyes searched the crowd, hoping one person would say the words that could get her back to safety for another year. Her silent plea was in vain. Nobody spoke.
Caroleene dug her hand back into the bowl to draw the next girl. "Maple Cresta."
"NO!" screamed Beren. How awful did her luck have to be? She couldn't handle the thought of sweet, kind Maple being killed in a gruesome, painful way. Maple was only 14; she was much too young to go through this. After what happened to her mother, Annie Cresta, when she went into the Arena, Beren could only imagine what would happen to young Maple.
"Any volunteers?" Silence. Until–
"I volunteer as tribute." Beren knew this voice all too well. She whipped her head around to look at the face of Rosemary Everdeen, daughter of the woman who brought back the Hunger Games. Beren wondered why Rose would ever volunteer for Maple, since they had never met, but she was glad that Maple was safe. Rose walked over and reached the stage where Beren was standing. Beren inhaled deeply, and found that Rose was wearing her favorite rose perfume for the reaping. When they were younger, she and Rose sometimes liked to play with the golden container, pretending to be pirates. Beren recalled that it belonged to Rose's aunt. She must have wanted to keep her family with her.
Caroleene called the first boy, Abum Doil. Beren sighed with guilty relief, because she didn't know Abum at all. Abum climbed up onto the stage and stood next to Rose. Abum had golden blond hair and strong, muscular arms. He looked about 17 or 18, older than Beren.
"Now time for the second young man." Caroleene said. She shoved her hand straight to the bottom of the bowl, and swirled it around till her hand caught a slip of paper with his name on it. "That's strange… Atlas Hawthorn. Well, isn't this a one of a kind reaping! Two tributes from the same family!"
"No...nonono…NO. Why?!" Beren choked out through the mountains of sobs that were in her throat. Gravity was too much for her and she collapsed. Beren might have to kill her own brother. She couldn't do that. Rose put her arm around Beren, unexpectedly comforting her. Who knew how much she had missed Rose?
Beren lifted her head and watched as Atlas made his way to where Beren was on the floor, curled up into a little ball, sobbing her eyes out. Atlas wore an indifferent expression, but his eyes betrayed him. They held fear, sadness, and protectiveness.
"Any volunteers?" Coraleene said with a confident voice, oblivious to Beren's breakdown. No one answered. She would be going into the Arena, fighting her brother to death.
"Well now that we have all of our tributes, we'll be taking our leave." Coraleene led them to the rooms where they got to say their goodbyes. The first person to visit Beren was Maple. They embraced, and Maple burst into tears.
"Maple, I got so scared when I heard your name called, " Beren said, choking on the tears pooling out of her own eyes.
"I know I did too…but thankfully Rose was there to-"
"So that's why Rose volunteered...Because you two are friends."
"Wait, I didn't say anything about us being friends…did I?"
"No, but your eyes did. You were never that good at lying."
"Are you okay with that?"
"Yes, you're fine I just wish you would have told me instead of me finding out this way. You're a really good friend to have Maple."
"Thanks but-"
"Miss Maple you must leave; there are others who want to visit." Said a tall, dark figure. In the corner of the room.
"Okay. Bye Beren."
"Bye."
Gale stepped through the long narrow hallway. He looked devastated that both of his children were chosen–and in the same reaping too. After Beren had lost her mother last reaping, he had never been the same. Beren and Atlas were the only things that could make him smile. And now, he was at the risk of losing the only people left he cared about.
"Dad?"
"Hi Beren. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine but how's-"
"Atlas is fine, just worried about you. He said that when he saw you curled up, it broke his heart to see his strong little sister break down."
"I know...How are you feeling? Both me and Atlas were reaped… are you going to be okay? Can you survive?"
"I'm fine for now. But first I lost your mother, and now the thought of losing both of you…or having to watch you both go up against each other. I don't think that I could bear watching that."
"I know, but if it comes down to just us, he will be the one to be crowned victor."
"Beren why-"
"Mr. Hawthorn, your time is up, there is one more visitor." said the tall dark figure.
"Dad… just know I love you" Beren tried to say it without crying but it was no use. She felt the tears run down her face as she saw her father walk away, his shoulders slumped.
"Your next person will be here shortly."
Beren's eyes widened in surprise at her next visitor. This person ruined her life. This person was the one that got her into this mess. Her visitor was Katniss Everdeen, the person who brought back the Hunger Games.
"I'm sorry Beren," she said hoarsely, "I'm sorry. It was all my fault that the Games were brought back."
Beren should have slapped her. Instead, Beren's head filled with all the good times she had with Rose and Katniss, and the delicious, mouth-watering smells that filled the air when Peeta baked. But Beren's head was also filled with the pain that she went through when she lost her mother, and it was all Katniss's fault. She had brought back the hunger games and she was the reason her mother was gone.
"Your 'sorries' will never fix this, your 'sorries' will never fix my mother being gone because you angered the Capitol."
"Beren I…I…I didn't mean to-"
"Save it. I am done with you…you can leave. The only time I want to see you is when I need to."
"Mrs. Katniss Everdeen, your time is up. She needs to get to the tributes car and you need to visit the others." Said the dark figure.
Beren walked away feeling relieved that she got that off her chest, but also a little sad she said that to someone she saw as a second mother. But now it was time for one of the most gruesome, bloody, violent game she has known. It was time for the Hunger Games.