You Think This Is Hard? - A Hunger Games/ Glee crossover fanfiction

Chapter 2: The Reaping

Chapter 2: The Reaping

I lay on my bed, staring at the sunlight that filters in through my dusty window. I may as well take advantage of the fact that on reaping days we do not have to attend to our normal duties. We are allowed a sleep in before the reaping ceremony, although we must spend time readying ourselves, as the Capitol calls that every citizen looks their best, as it is supposed to be a day of celebration.

I hear a knock on my door.

“Kurt, are you awake?” My father, Burt, calls.

“Yes,” I call back

“Well you should probably start getting ready; we don’t want to be late.”

I roll out of bed and make my way to the small bathroom that adjoins my room. Compared to some families living in the Seam, we are fairly well off, but compared to most of the merchant families, and even some of the Seam residents, we have nothing.

I hop into the tub, letting the warm water encase my body. Warm baths are definitely a luxury in District 12. The only hot water we get is that which we boil our selves. This is the only day of the year where a hot bath is guaranteed. After all, if we are going to the Capitol, we need to look our best. The whole system sickens me. But there is nothing that I or anyone else can do about it.

After shampooing my hair, I get out and wrap a course towel around my body and return to my room to choose the outfit that I will wear to the Reaping. I pick a pair of caramel coloured pants, a faded blue button up shirt and a loose wool scarf that my mother knitted me for my fifth birthday. I slip on my tattered brown boots and make my way to the small mirror in the corner. I comb my light brown hair into a wave on top of my head.

I walk out of my bedroom into the main area of the house, where our table, small stove, fireplace and ancient TV set sit. My father sits at the table eating a small breakfast of watery porridge. I serve my self a bowl of the same mixture and sit down opposite him.

“Dad…” I begin

“Promise me something.” He interrupts.

“I-I, ok,” I stammer.

“Whatever happens today, just remember I’m proud of you and I love you, okay? Just remember that,” He says

“Dad, it’s been six years. They didn’t pick me then, so they’re not going to pick me now. I’ll tell you what,” I reach out and grab my father’s hand, “Tonight, we’re going to come home, together, and we’re going to have a big dinner, like something they’d have in the Capitol, and we’ll be happy that we’re here, together, as safe as we can get.”

“I love you Kurt,” he says, squeezing my hand.
”Love you too Dad. Now come on we’ll be late.”

                                                                 ~
We walk through the Seam, on our way to the town square. We pass countless dilapidated houses, which just like everything else in District 12, are caked in coal dust.

Once we reach town, the buildings are in slightly better condition, but being the district furthest from the Capitol, it seems like we are forgotten sometimes. Everything is in disrepair and I am pretty sure that no one, not even the mayor’s family, ever goes to bed with a full stomach. But god knows if I spoke my opinions out loud I would be whipped to a pulp, or maybe even executed. But I know everyone else thinks the same things. How it’s so unfair that the Capitol has so much, and we have so little. How innocent kids are sent to their death every year because of something that happened nearly 100 years ago. I hate everything about it. I hate the Capitol. I hate President Snow. I hate the Games.

We approach the town square and I give my dad one last hug before signing in and going to stand with the rest of the seventeen year old boys. Everything in the square is bleak and grey, from the people’s faces, to the dirtied concrete pavement. It is eerily quiet for a place with so many people in it. The only talking is a few whispered conversations scattered through out the crowd.

The silence is broken by the mayor, Madge Undersee, and the district escort, Effie Trinket coming on to the stage. Mayor Undersee approaches the microphone and in a falsely-chipper voice welcomes us here.

“Welcome citizens of District 12 to the reaping for the 98th annual Hunger Games!”

Mayor Undersee is clearly not a supporter of the games. There are rumours that she was the friend of one of the districts only victors, Katniss Everdeen, who had died in the third Quarter Quell, where the tributes were previous year’s victors. The winner of the Quarter Quell had been twelves only other living victor, Haymitch Abernathy. Technically, he was supposed to be here as well, but he hadn’t attended since he had won the Quarter Quell, an even before that, he had always been drunk during the ceremony.

The Mayor continues her speech, concluding with a list of the districts three victors. She hands the microphone to Effie, who is famous for the ridiculous attire she dons every year. Effie has been the escort for over twenty years, ever since Katniss won the games. She shoud look a lot older than she does. Its unnatural how little she has changed in two decades. She approaches the front of the stage, her bright green wig and dress swaying from side to side.
“Ladies and gentlemen of District 12, what a pleasure it is to see you all here today!” She exclaims loudly. “Now lets take a minute to watch a very, very special film brought to you by our dear friends in the Capitol!”

A film starts to roll on the huge screens either side of the stage. It’s the same one as every year. Just like every other person in Panem, I could probably recite it off by heart. It begins by telling about the Dark Days, when the districts rebelled against the Capitol, and then after winning the war, the Capitol created the Hunger Games as a way to keep the peace. If you ask me, it is a stupid idea. How is making innocent children kill other innocent children going to keep people at bay?

The film ends and an un-enthusiastic applause rings through out the crowd. Effie grins and continues with her speech.

“Now, it is time to select one courageous young man and woman to represent District 12 in the 98th annual Hunger Games. Ladies first!” She says, and walks towards the ball that contains the girl’s names. With a flourish she pulls out a slip.

“Rachel Berry!” She calls.

No.

Rachel is the only person in the whole district, apart from my father, that I could call my friend. We are both complete out casts, with her loud, over the top, demanding personality scaring most people away. I don’t know if she would consider me her friend, but whenever there are pair activities at school, we always end up together, and we will sit together at lunch. They can’t do this. Rachel doesn’t stand a chance. She is tiny, and despite her attitude, I doubt she could kill someone.

They can’t.

Rachel climbs onto the stage, her face an emotionless mask. I have to admire her for not bursting into tears. Effie pats her on the back and motions to where she should stand.

Effie makes her way to the boys Reaping ball, her green wig glinting horribly in the bright sunlight.

“Now time for the boys!” She yells. She reaches into the ball, and after a second, pulls out a small slip of pristine white paper. She reads out the name.

“Kurt Hummel”