Darkness, Ever After (Hunger Games Fan Fic)

A Scarlet Dress

When I awake, I have no idea how long I've been out. I cannot help but register the entire reaping as a dream, and nothing more. But I know in my mind it was real, and it will not go away if I close my eyes hard and pinch myself. Peacekeepers are moving about all around me, but when I open my eyes they seem to calm down a bit. Our head Peacekeeper tentatively asks me if I'm okay, and in the heat of the moment I hesitate before answering, "Yes, I'm fine."

A very dramatic expression of relief floods his face and I follow the direction of his eyes out to the crowd, reminding myself I still have an audience. My eyes flit over the Career girls, who stare me down, hoping I will need to be replaced.

As I hasten to my feet again, I swear the square is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Virgil hurries to steady me, and the audience inhales almost in unison as the Peacekeepers try and get on with things. I wonder if I've missed the anthem and the Treaty of Treason and the speeches.

I must have been lying silent and motionless on the ground as the crowd listened obediently for so long. A sick feeling threatens to overtake me as I think about how it must have looked to Rozada and my father. But thinking of my father reminds me of my mother, and I inhale sharply. She does not need to see me suffer, and it somehow comforts me to know she never lived to see this.

We are ushered by the Peacekeepers through the crowd, which scoots hastily away from us, creating an aisle for us the be escorted through. Almost every face in the crowd shoots us sympathetic looks. Almost all of a sudden, the air feels somewhat icy, almost as if we stepped inside a freezer.

I squeese Virgil's clammy hand in mine, but I don't dare look at his face, for fear of tears rolling down my own. I don't want him to know how scared I am, and I dont' want to spread my fear to him more than I already have.

Halfway across the square, I see a flash of a bright red skirt. My first thought: Rozada. What must she be thinking? She is eighteen, although deemed no longer eligible for the reaping because she was hurt badly a month ago and has since lost use of her left arm. Now, it is cut off at the elbow, still wrapped in a bandage as it heals. I am, in a way, lucky, that she will be safe. She will never have to endure the games.

The same flash of a dress, this time closer to Virgil and me and the Peacekeepers. I hold my breath, praying Rozada will stay back until the time allotted for my goodbyes in the Justice Building. I do not want the cameras to catch the words to be exchanged between my sister and me.

"Let me through!" comes Rozada's powerful voice. I tighten my grip on Virgil's hand as our sister, looking stunningly brilliant in her scarlet dress, emerges from the throng of people. Tears stain the front of her dress, I notice, as she shoves people relentlessly away with her remaining good arm.

"No! Rozada, don't--" the Peacekeeper wrenches my arms behind my back. I thrash and writhe in his arms, struggling to break his iron grip. I can barely see over the commotion surrounding the peacekeepers, me, and my brother, but I can see just enough.

Just enough to see Rozada's red-clad figure collapse on the ground, just a flash of her ashen-blonde hair and her pale skin spattered with her own blood. Another Peacekeeper walks away from her lifeless body. But I can see her breathe.

My hand reaches for Virgil but I'm held fast. My brother and I are fighting so hard that finally, the white-clad man scoops up Virgil, who is still quite small, at age 12, into his arms and carries him away. I am half carried, half dragged, towards the Justice Building, which looms in front of me like a storm on the horizon.

But as we pass, my eyes stay locked on Rozada's body, lying still as death, as people watch us being towed away. I cannot see if someone comes to her rescue not, but I plead with every person whose eyes I meet. My tears eventually spill down my face.

I do not care anymore if the cameras can see me. I have all the reason in the world to cry, so why be afraid to show the Captiol? Why be nervous to show all of Panem the pain that the Hunger Games spread around every district?