|A Quell of Heartbreaks
Author: Ravendors PM
Haymitch and Maysilee have only spoken a few times but when they are both reaped into the Hunger Games they find an unexpected alliance in each other...and maybe something more.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Tragedy - Haymitch A. & Maysilee D. - Chapters: 17 - Words: 42,074 - Reviews: 47 - Favs: 30 - Follows: 28 - Updated: 06-18-12 - Published: 09-04-11 - id: 7354957
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hey guys, this is our first fanfic, we hope you enjoy! (:
Update 9/5/11: We added Haymitch's pov to this chapter instead of making it a chapter on it's own.
It's dawn. I only slept a few hours last night due to the anxiety that this day brings each year. I turn to my sister, my twin, and notice that she is lying awake in her bed.
"Are you okay?" I ask her.
"I'm the same as usual on this morning each year, terrified." She responds.
Today is the day of the reaping. Each year one boy and one girl will be reaped from a list of tributes to represent their District in a televised event in an arena where the tributes must fight to the death. But this year it's worse, it's the Quarter Quell. Every 25 years marks a special Hunger Games. This will be the second one, and this year double the number of tributes will be competing. Instead of 24, two from each district, there will be 48. Twice the odds of your name being chosen and if your name is chosen, half the odds of you making it out alive.
While I feel the same way I try to swallow my fear and reassure her, "Myrella, our odds are very slim compared to the others in the Seam that have to sign up for tesserae. It's been five years since the last merchant tribute was chosen from district 12."
Tesserae is a grain that we are allowed to sign up for to receive each month for our family. In exchange we have to enter our name into the reaping one more time for each member in our family. Each year we are allowed to do this, and the number of times our names are entered into the reaping adds up with each year. This year my name will be put on a slip to be put into the reaping bowl 15 times, while most kids from the seam my age have double that many number of slips.
"I know, but what if this is the year one of us is chosen? Our odds are doubled Maysilee! Even worse, what if we are both chosen!
That's when I know this isn't just about her fear of one of us going in, it's about both of us going in and only one being able to come out. While I've dwelled on this before, many times over the last few weeks as I'm sure she has, I'm quick to try to put that part of her fear to rest.
"The odds of that happening are so slim, let's not dwell on that right now. We just need to keep thinking positively that we'll both make it through the day, together."
"Okay," she whispers back, and I know she won't stop thinking about it until the end of the reaping.
"Come on, let's get ready and go meet Laurel in the square.
When we reach the square many others are already there. They rope off the potential tributes by age. We spot Laurel in the 16 year olds area and go to stand by her. She's our best friend, with waist length blond hair and blue eyes. We grew up together and she's one of the few that can tell Myrella and myself apart. Each of us claps hands, not saying a word. It comforts each of us without having to discuss our worries of what could happen in the next few hours.
The mayor gives his speech, the same speech he's been giving for as long as I can remember. The speech describes how Panem was formed, the formation of the Districts and the subsequent rebellion, and finally why the Hunger Games were formed. To show to districts that the Capitol is not to be underestimated, that they are the ones with power. There used to be 13 districts. The thirteenth was annihilated, made into an example of what could happen when you defy the capitol. Now each year we participate in the Hunger Games without fighting back in order to protect our districts.
District 12's escort makes her way to the center of the platform to read the names of this year's District 12 tributes.
"Hello boys and girls, it's another exciting year of the Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favor!" she says brightly.
Her hand reaches into the reaping bowl containing the names of the potential girl tributes. My heart quickens like it does every year that I've stood here hoping that my name never is chosen, and when she pulls out the slip for the first girl my breath catches and my heart stops when she calls the name, "Maysilee Donner!"
I wake up to my mother crying. She cries every year on reaping day. Well at least for the past for years, since I've had to put my name in the drawing. Every year I have to put my name in the drawing for the Games. These Games are the reason my mother cries.
Every year I have to put my name in the drawing to be selected as one of the boy victims for the Capitol's "entertainment". The entertainment is where a boy and a girl from each district are forced to fight each other to the death in an arena, while the capitol people take wagers and laugh at us. And it's all punishment for us defying them fifty years ago.
This year is a little different though. This year is a quarter quell. So not only are we thrown together to violently kill eachother, there is a little twist. We just found out last night that for the fiftieth Quarter Quell, 'As a reminder that two rebels died for each capitol citizen, every district is required to send twice ans many tributes'. And this year my brother, Eric, is twelve. That doesn't help my mother, now that both of her children are old enough to be put up for slaughter. So this year my brother gets entered. Just like me. Only, he doesn't have as many slips of paper with his name in the selection. In fact, I have my name in there twenty times. Five because I have to. One for every year I have been eligible for this and sixteen more for the grain that I get if I choose to enter my name for each family member. That's three more for each year. And the entries just keep adding up. He only has one.
My brother is scared. Of course he is. We all are. This is the first reaping where he not only has to hope that my name doesn't get called, but that his doesn't as well. He woke up many times last night from the nightmares about the reaping. All of his fears coming true. In all honesty, I would have those nightmares too, if I slept the night before the reaping. But I don't. I never do. And I always keep myself preoccupied on reaping day, before I go to the city square and listen to the names being drawn.
Today, I'm walking around town making conversation with the townsfolk. Normally, I'm not this social but it keeps my mind off things. I do some trading and get lunch for today. And then I can't find anything else to do. I go home to my mother and Eric for lunch.
We eat in silence. I know my mother will start crying again if we say anything. And Eric looks like he's going to be sick. And when we are done eating, we just sit there and stare out the window at the birds flying by.
At one forty-five we head down to the square. People are already making wagers about who they think are going into the arena. Parents, mothers, are already crying at the thought of losing their children. Especially since there are going to be two extra tributes this year. Eric and I head to the front and I show him where to stand with the other twelve year olds. Then I head back to the sixteen area and wait for it to begin. I have a bad feeling about this.
The bell chimes and it's two o'clock. The mayor starts his speech about the hunger games. I never listen. If my names drawn, I'm not going to give a crap about the reasoning behind why I'm forced to kill other people and why other people will be hunting me down. I'm still going to hate it.
"Now it is time for the reaping." The mayor says.
District twelve's escort walks over to the glass ball and talks about how great of an honor it is to be a tribute.
"Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor. Ladies first!" She sounds excited. That kind of irritates me.
"Here we go." I whisper.
"Maysilee Donner!" She shouts. I look over to where the gasps came from. There she is clinging on to her twin sister, Myrella, and their friend Laurel. She slowing lets go of them and walks up to the front. I feel bad for her. I've seen her at school. It's sad that such a nice girl got called for the reaping. Another girl gets called.
"It's the boy's turn now!" She still sounds excited, possibly even more so. She reaches her hand in the glass bowl and pulls out some boy's name that I do not know. One more. If my name is going to get called the odds are really slim.
She pulls out the final slip and read, "Haymitch Abernathy!" Nope, fate apparently doesn't agree with me today.