Chapter 6: Time Flies When You’re Trying to Survive

July 4th 70ADD (5 months after the accident)

Another year, another reaping. I turned 12 just last month and I'm already on the chopping block along with Katniss. Poor girl has been worried sick ever since her birthday. The responsibilities unfairly thrust upon her are close to overwhelming. We have something in common there.

Both of our mothers seemed to completely shut down after the mine explosion. Mrs. Everdeen has good days and bad ones and can still sometimes work as the local healer. My mother on the other hand is barely functioning. It's a good day if I don't have to remind her to eat or bathe.

I understand. Truly I do. She lost her sister to the Games, her parents soon after that, and the one person that kept her through it all just died in a terrible accident. I know she can get better. I just hope it's before The 74th Games. I came to this world with the plan of competing with Katniss and that's what I'm going to do. 

I'm broken out of my thoughts when the usual documentary played before every reaping ends. The horrendously dressed Capitol stooge attempts to use his cheerful voice to energize the children he is sending off to die. 

It falls flat.

The reaping goes as you would expect. A 17 year old Merchie girl and a 15 year old Seam boy are the tributes this year. Both look malnourished and immediately hopeless, like they've already given up. The families of each child can be heard crying out in the background and the girl's father looks like he's about to storm the stage but seems to gain some clarity. 

After the tributes are taken back, I meet with Katniss and Gale. We've become more like a family now than we ever were. Gone were the days we dilly dallied in the fields or at each other's house. Now we work together, nearly every waking moment, surviving together. 

Gale, at 14, seemed prime for a maturity like this but seeing the childhood whimsy die in Katniss so quickly has been heartbreaking. No 12 year old girl should have to take care of their sister and mother. 

Due to the increased presence of peacekeepers, we don't intend on hunting today. We have the entire month of July off of school because the games are so goddamn important so we have enough time to spend doing that. 

I've been keeping to my shifts with Mr. Greg after school while I go out at first light for my hunting. Ever since my father died he noticed how determined I was to keep working and providing for my family, and he started teaching me more techniques that before he said I didn't need to know. Such as proper mixing ratios for the types of iron you needed. How to adjust the heat of the forge to surprisingly accurate degrees.

I never asked him why he suddenly started teaching me these things. I felt if he wanted me to know he would tell me. I just thanked him for every nugget of wisdom he gave me along with the payment for my work. 

The payments I receive aren't just kept by me. Some might call it stupid, but I truly see the Hawthornes and the Everdeens as family at this point. Gale is stubborn when it comes to help and keeps taking out 5 tesserae every time he can. He's up to 18 slips in the bowl and he's only 14. Katniss and I each took out 2 tesserae and we make up the difference with my coin, Mrs. Everdeen's occasional work earnings, and our hunting. Our names were in there 3 times for our first reaping, and it'll be 6 next year. Not ideal but it's the best we can do. 

(A/N in cannon Katniss takes out 3 tesserae each year until the 74th games. In my mind, with the help of another hunting partner and another source of income for food keeps them afloat without having to take out 3 each)

—TIMEJUMP TO THE NEW YEAR—

January 1st, 71ADD 

This winter has been hell. The game around the district is lower than we thought it would be. It's a good day to catch a squirrel for every family. Today was no different. You might call us lucky though because we caught 2 squirrels and 1 particularly fat rabbit. 

We've been fighting starvation ever since the beginning of December. An early snow and flash freeze caused a lot of the wildlife to die or find other places to roam. Our lifeline has been my payments from Mr. Greg and surprisingly little Prim has been helping their mother treat people more often. Minor stuff like stitches and mixing some medicinal herbs we collect while we're out hunting. 

Lila has been a real trooper during all of this. She was depressed for a while after Dad died but after a few heart to hearts and playdates with Prim, Rory, and Vick. 

And while this winter has been hard, I've taken full advantage of my increased physical abilities. Skipping as many meals as I can while keeping Mom and Lila well fed.

Mom's been getting a little better… maybe. She speaks a few sentences here and there with lucidity. She's expressed her guilt and her sorrow whenever she can, hoping for us to understand.

I do.

If I was mentally 12 I would probably be as mad as Katniss is at her mother. And while yes, my physical brain being not fully developed does make my experience the emotions of a child, I am self aware enough to understand when it is just emotion telling me to be angry at her. 

I can only feel pity for the life she has lived and a determination to see her through the end of it. I have a plan with Gale and his mother to gather some mothers and fathers of children recently lost to the Games. Hopefully them being able to share their grief together will help. At least a little. 

We've got to be a little discreet about it though. You never know if the peacekeepers would see such an environment as a place of rebellion. 

—TIMEJUMP TO THE NEXT REAPING—

July 4th, 71ADD

It feels like just yesterday I was standing here, waiting to see which sacrificial lambs are up for slaughter this year.

Wow, when did I become so morbid? Must be the teenager in me, I did just turn 13 last month. 

I tune out the annual 'haha fuck you you lost, now we're gonna watch your children die' documentary. I make eye contact with my sister and mother looking on from the viewing area. Mom looks like she's seen a ghost and Lila looks like she'll burst into tears any second now. 

Mom has gotten a lot better after the occasional talks with other grieving parents. She's not at 100% and still has bad days, but she talks now and cooks meals again. Something I'm thankful for, cooking takes so much fucking time.

The Capitol stooge opens its fat mouth once again to announce the tributes this year. It's a hard one to see this year. 

"First, the girls… Carla Redvine. Come on up!" Instantly there are loud cries coming from the other viewing area. A young looking man attempts to push past the peacekeepers but is swiftly knocked out. That's when I see a small, malnourished little girl stumbling up the steps with tears falling down her cheeks. Seeing her jogs my memory and I remember her in the grade below mine. 

A 12 year old has been reaped for the Games, something that makes the already somber atmosphere one of complete dread.

"Congratulations dear, what an honor! Now, it's time for the boys!" I'm filled with rage at the sheer tone deafness of this announcer. I almost believe he gets a sadistic joy out of watching the despondent faces in the crowd.

"Looks like it's… George Ferrero!" This time there's barely any reaction from the crowd. A cry from a brunette woman sitting off to the side.

I can see George walking up to the stage, blond hair, average height, malnourished like the rest of us. He seems to be either 16 or 17. He doesn't cry, he doesn't smile, just stares ahead like he's watching his life behind a screen.

I do a double take at who I assume is his mother. If she has brown hair and he has blond hair then that must mean that whoever his father was must have been a Merchie or at least the child of one. That's not very common in District 12. In fact, I can only recall the Everdeens as being another example of such a marriage. 

The reason it's uncommon is because, though the merchant families struggle almost just as much as seam residents, they typically have enough food to feed themselves. Yes, winter might be hard for them, and some do struggle with providing for themselves, but there is an ingrained sense of class distinction when it comes to marriage. Mrs. Everdeen's family even kicked her out once they found out she was in love with a man in the Seam. Some merchant families don't even let their kids play with Seam kids at all, but those are in the small minority.

This was a hard reaping to watch. The Games will be even worse. We try not to get attached to the tributes and instead hope for a quick death. No one under the age of 14 has ever won before and it most likely won't be this year for that to change. 

We are released for the day to go about our business and I take the opportunity to stop by Mr. Greg's shop.

When I do, the door is locked and there's a sign that says 'No Business Today' so I instead take this as a rare opportunity to go hang out with Katniss, Gale, and their families.

—NEXT DAY—

After our daily hunt, this being a very good day, we clean the 2 deer, 2 rabbits and 3 wild turkeys we managed to get. After splitting the meat up evenly we take all the extra to the Hob and trade it for whatever we might need. I pick up some soap and cloth for a new coat for Lila before it gets cold out. Katniss gets some herbs we couldn't find for her mother's medicine drawer, and Gale gets salt, socks for his siblings, and some soap as well.

After this we split up and I head back to Mr. Gregs shop. It's still locked with that same sign on the front. I give it a few knocks and wait a few minutes. I hear nothing so I assume he's busy doing something. If he's not back soon I'll start getting concerned.