96th Reaping [District Nine]

      The heartbeat was always the same on Reaping Day. Not the ticking within his chest; he could hear the Peacekeeper trucks starting their engines just outside the barracks window.

     The brightening room was still asleep, and dust traced through sun rays which brought Rhys some temporary peace. He’d laid there for hours already. Each side of the bed was as familiar as the other. Night became day and he saw it through in its entirety. Eyes twitched side to side periodically, alive with thought and shuddering in trepidation. He could see his mother’s face for most of it. She was in her usual Peacekeeper uniform, except somehow she had more medals than was ordinary. Her hair was tightly pinched, her eyes were haggard, and her finger was outstretched in his face all the while scolding him for something. He cast it aside just as he had most of the night. Instead, it turned to Flip. It wasn’t the first time for that, either, but something was amiss. Rather, something was missing. Constant limbo was roughly the best way to describe them. Rhys was ying while Flip was yang. In the middle there was a sweet spot of comfort for both, yet Rhys never found it. Not before today. Not before the Reaping loomed over, and the idea of him losing everything stood over him like a tempting deity. What was worse is that he wanted it, somewhere deep inside. Flip taught him how to escape, but he was far too good a teacher. Rhys just wanted to escape it all. His overbearing parents, the idea of teetering on the edge of a relationship, committing fully to Peacekeeping; Rhys’ list of responsibilities were a mandatory concrete crown. The Reaping was the only way out.

     “Rise and shine, birds. Rise and shine!” The drill sergeant was a gruff fellow with a thick mustache and a shaved head. His shouting was his peak of performance for the day. Rhys has never seen him do anything else in his whole time within the academy. Besides, they knew all too well that none of them had any sleep for a second. They were the same when they were younger, surely - or at least Rhys thought.

     His usual buddies kept him company until they all started to realise that this was their first Reaping whilst being part of the academy. Uniforms and all. It’s not the full Peacekeeper get-up in any which way, but rather a jumpsuit that makes them all look eerily similar, like a stack of mannequins ready to be placed. His heartbeat had matched with the engines of the trucks. The chat among the recruits was that they’d all have to stand among the crowd like civilians. Like normal. Apart. Some kind of Peacekeeper tactic, or maybe a Capitol Mandate set in motion to scare the other Citizens. All Rhys knew was that no matter what his parents were going to be watching from some high place in the District Square. Pristinely dressed. Gathered among the other elitist high ranks. And he was going to disappoint them so much if he would be reaped. There was no sense to it. That’s why he was so torn.

He wanted to meet their standards but at the same time, could their standards ever be met? When would they be satisfied?

     The ceremony began. His unit was distributed among the herd. Their fingers were pricked and Rhys was sent on his way to a designated area. His eyes were twitching side to side again but this time all in search of one person and only him, Flip Jones. “Where are you?” he muttered to himself, gritting his teeth. “For fucks’ sake, where are you?” He stopped himself as his voice raised, still low, but he wasn’t going to be caught pining after anybody on Reaping Day. Every longer-haired guy that passed him reset his arrhythmic heart alight until he realised they weren’t him. And it never was. He couldn’t find him, after all that trying. He suddenly realised just how it felt to be like Flip, who he’d led on a goose-chase this whole time whilst he figured out his own feelings. The narcissism wasn’t lost on Rhys. He recognised it far too familiarly to his own parents. Still, it hurt him like a double-edged glaive through the stomach. Dramatic, but overbound by the anxiety he had from head to toe.

Something stole all sound from the square, and just a few footsteps were heard as the announcement was made that they were to begin. Cameras all around. The show had commenced and the actors were in place, yet Rhys felt like this was just typical that he was in the square, in the Peacekeeper jumpsuit, waiting to be punished by the Capitol that he has trained to one day serve.

     “Rhys Peace.”

He thought it would be his heart that sank first, if he was ever chosen. He was far more right than he anticipated; his chest lost all feeling, all the way into his hands. Yet he stayed upright. He was composed. Something about that day felt as though this was the only possible outcome. Some kind of full moon tidal vibration, or a cataclysmic event on some far off planet, something called upon this day to be his last as a citizen. Forever, now, a tribute.

But, he smiled. He was finally free. With each step he took to the podium, he felt the attachment to his parent’s goals disappear. He had his own, now. As he stood there he didn’t even try to find Flip. That kid had taught him how to get up to this stage in the first place. He paved the way, and so he was far too easy to find. He was the guy with the long hair and the face, in the middle of the crowd, that looked more upset than Rhys’ parents.

     So Rhys smiled at him, with a wink, knowing that it may be the last time he sees that face, and hoping that it made sense.