reap the dead.

the reaping of the 68th hunger games

༄

Freyja took in a deep breath, the smell of the ocean filling her lungs and a satisfactory smile resting on her face. The sun beat down on the wood of the pier, warming her hands as she leant back on them.

"How was your time at The Capitol?" She asked the boy next to her as she lightly dipped her feet into the sea below.

"Same old." Finnick answered stiffly.

Freyja nodded with a small frown. That was his routine answer to that question, and her understanding silence was always her routine answer.

They both gazed back into the tranquil ocean as a comfortable silence settled around them.

"How many times has your name been entered this year?"

"I think... maybe five."

The bronze-haired boy nodded, "Don't let that number get any higher."

"I'll try."

Finnick's mouth fell into a grim line. He knew it wasn't her fault or choice that her name had been put in at all. Being the family member of a victor meant you didn't need to enter your name in as the winnings from the games meant that your family could live comfortably for many, many years. But President Snow liked to remind even the winners of the games that they still weren't safe from his clutches. So, he made sure that names of the family members were added to the reaping bowl regardless.

Freyja's grandmother had won the Eleventh Hunger Games fifty seven years prior, and she spent the last fifteen years helping to raise Freyja. Freyja knew she lived a life of luxury compared to the rest of those in her district, and she knew that her name being entered five times was a miniscule amount compared to her peers.

The girl let in a deep breath as she took in the serene scene of the waves in front of her, wishing for the moment to never end as she rested her head on the older boy's shoulder.

"I'm scared." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Me too." Finnick admitted, wrapping an arm around her small frame, "But I'll always be here to protect you."

"Yeah, I know."

༄

Freyja let her hands run over the forest green dress that hung on her body. The same dress that she wore every year for the Reaping. The same dress that her Grandmother adorned when she was reaped. Her Grandmother had also somehow managed to tame her messy brown hair into a neat, low ponytail.

"Name?"

"Freyja Flanagan."

The sharp stinging sensation made her flinch slightly as a woman pricked her finger, drawing blood before roughly smudging the red liquid against her name registration.

"Move along."

Freyja complied, following the group of girls her age to their specific standing point to watch, her heart pounding heavily in her chest and her ears ringing as they did every Reaping. Her piercing blue eyes wandered over the stage, her mouth twitching up in a small smile as she saw her Grandmother sitting proudly at her spot on the stage. But that small smile disappeared as quickly as it came when Apollo Everest walked up to the microphone that had been placed centre stage.

"Hello! And welcome to 68th Annual Hunger Games!" The woman said, with an uncomfortably cheerful smile, as though twenty-three children most likely wouldn't be dead within the next week. The thought made Freyja feel sick to her stomach, "Before we announce this year's tributes, a word from President Snow for you all to watch."

Freyja's eyes didn't even glance over the video playing for them, already knowing every word of the video - the video she had heard every year prior since she was eleven years old. The brunette took her time to look at Apollo, almost laughing at her appearance. It was clear that she was from the Capitol with her perfectly curled lime green hair, with wisps of turquoise and blue streaking through it. Her outfit was just as eccentric. The green on her tight dress matched the lime green of her hair, and her shoes gave her at least an extra six inches. She was basically a giant, walking bush.

Her eyes then wandered further left, catching eyes with Finnick - who was sarcastically and slyly mouthed the last sentence of the video - making her smirk slightly before the said video stopped playing, an eerie feeling lingering in the silence.

"And now, we pick the tributes." Apollo's voice surrounded the petrified children, "Let's start with the boys." She grinned, placing a perfectly manicured hand in the glass bowl, picking out a name, opening it, "And District Four's male tribute for the 68th Annual Hunger Games is... Nolan Donahue."

From the crowd, the brunette boy walked forward and made his way to the stage. Freyja frowned - she and Nolan had known each other for as long as she could remember. And whilst he worked with the other fishermen on the boats and could haul around a heavy fish, Freyja wasn't sure that he would be able to survive the games.

After directing and telling the trembling, freckle-faced boy where to to stand, Apollo appeared in front of the microphone once again, "And now the girls." Another Capitol approved hand entered the bow of names, before Apollo decided on which piece of paper and opening it, "And District Four's female tribute for the 68th Hunger Games is...," The woman faltered for a moment, sparing a glance towards Mags, "...Freyja Flanagan."

Whispers rippled through the crowd as the nearly sixteen-year-old girl felt her heart stop. A small shove on her back jutted her forward slightly and into the open space between the other children on District four.

Freyja swallowed thickly, steeling herself as made her way up to the stage, willing for her hands to stop shaking. But it was to no avail as they trembled violently at her sides.

Mags watched her Granddaughter carefully, hands covering her mouth, her face awash with turmoil. She had barely survived her own games all those years ago, and whilst she was promised shut of it, this was just the reminder that the younger generation was not. And that broke the old woman's heart. First her daughter, now Freyja.

Meanwhile, Finnick was sure his heart was beating so fast that it would explode out of his chest. He had promised the girl that he would protect her. And he would. He knew that he would do anything to get her out of the arena alive. And he would do it whilst trying to keep her as human and sane as possible.

As the young girl stood on the stage next to her childhood friend, it all dawned on her. She probably may never see any of these people again. And she knew that she looked scared stiffed, but she didn't care. Because at that moment as she stood there processing the information of what was about to come, she was certain that she was indeed absolutely terrified.

"And here they are, your District Four tributes: Nolan Donahue and Freyja Flanagan!" Apollo exclaimed, tanking a step back, giving the tributes - friends - victims space to shake hands, which they did, both trembling as much as the other. The only sound was the green-haired lady clapping for the two children being sent to their deaths.

༄

Standing in a room in the Justice Building, Freyja stood looking at the floor, her breath uneven, when her Grandmother entered the room, gazing at her Granddaughter with sympathy before bringing the shaking girl - who resembled a leaf in the wind - into a loving and comforting hug.

The pain the woman felt in her heart was not only due to the girl standing in front of her entering the massacre that was the games, but because the victor would not be able to mentor her as she was not one of District 4's mentors this year.

Holding Freyja in her arms, Mags could only be reminded of the girl's mother in the same situation sixteen years ago.

"I'm scared, Grandma." Freyja whispered, clutching onto the older woman.

Mags pulled away from the hug, bringing the girl's face into her hands, searching her eyes - her own brimming with tears. Freyja knew what she meant. They always had an unspoken bond. Though Mags could no longer speak more than an inaudible mumble, Freyja always knew what her Grandmother meant from one look.

Love and belief.

And that would be enough for Freyja to calm down.

"One more minute."

"I will try and win this." Freyja promised her Grandmother, "For you."

Mags smiled sadly, kissing the young girl's forehead before being escorted out of the room by the Peacekeepers.

Freyja watched the old woman leave.

"I love you."