Chapter Text
He wondered what he ever did to fate to have this happen to him. Did he step on a bug in a fast life? Did he do something horrible that would cause him to be punished? He couldn't think of anything that would result in this.
He would glance up every time the door opened. A Peacekeeper constantly checking to make sure he hadn't left, not that he could. There was only one way in and out of the room and the guy was blocking it. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to think of ways to escape.
His family was coming. They were coming to say goodbye and he wasn't even sure what he was going to say to them. Nothing seemed proper. Nothing seemed like it would be enough. So he just tried to occupy himself.
"Thomas, your family is going to be let in in one minute." The Peacekeeper spoke after a minute of observing the boy. He closed the door without waiting for a reply.
Thomas sat there quietly, gazing at his fingers. He was trying to remember how to breathe, but he was still failing. He could see black spots in his vision as he struggled to even his breathing. He would go from hyperventilating to not breathing at all. One could not blame him, however. No, not after what just happened.
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He stood with his friends, they had been trying to do some light joking. He could see his adopted brother Chuck just staring at the ground. Due to age, they couldn't stand with each other. Chuck was thirteen and still had so many years to go before he would be clear of not getting called. Unlike him, who was sixteen. He had survived so many reapings, but with every time they got low on supplies, Thomas signed another bit of his life away. His chances of being drawn were increased.
He just gazed at the bowl, wondering how many slips in there were his. He figured half were his name. It was hard on his mother to support him and Chuck by repairing and making clothes, especially when their little distract got very little supplies to work with. Just as much as his mother would weep that he would write his name on another slip to get some extra food, she was just as grateful. That was reason enough for him to not regret it.
Silence settled around the town center as the opening speech began. It was pretty much the same every year and he could recite it from memory. And then came the part everyone dreaded. Two families would mourn the loss of a child. They weren't a district of fighters, barely having any victors. In the history of the games, they have only had two winners. Neither of them were on stage, though. The first two victors in the history of the district and they were young. His age. And that was what made him feel most sick about the games, what the Capitol turned them into.
Thomas didn't realize he had zoned out until his friends were looking at him. He heard someone screaming and crying, and he swore it sounded like his mother. "Thomas Edison?" The repeat of his name made his throat close.
He had been prepared for this. He knew this was coming. It had him shuffling from his spot. He wanted to prolong going up to the stage, especially when Chuck grabbed his hand. "Hey, I'll see you in a bit, alright? Be brave." He whispered to his brother before a Peacekeeper forced him to the stage.
The rest of the ceremony went too quickly. Like he was floating in a daze, just gazing at his home that he would never see again. To learn to survive alongside a girl whose name he didn't even know. From mentors who didn't feel the need to show up for the reaping.
He wasn't going to survive. And that was the harsh reality.