58th Reaping D10

The District Ten boy stood firmly in the same spot, the sweltering heat beating down on his exposed scalp. His dirty-blond hair fell in a messy nest atop his head, beads of sweat dripping down his olive skin. His stance was slightly hunched, a hand resting softly on the brown flank of a horse. The stench of the animal filled his nostrils, though he actually found it comforting. It was the smell of home, the only place he felt comfortable. The horse was not startled by his presence, for it's eyes fell casually upon the tall boy, trust appearing on the surface of it's gaze.

"Time for me to go, girl" Colan whispered, his tone containing a melancholy sound to it. The sound of it rang in his ears, splitting through the understanding silence that had drifted between him and the horse. His hand gripped tightly around the chocolate mane of the animal, his face pressing gently against the strong neck. The rough flank sent warmth through his callused hands. His grasp was filled with desperation, as if the stronger he held on, the farther he drifted away from what was going on around him.

It hadn't ocurred to Colan until a few minutes prior to that moment that these might be his last interractions with his beloved animals. It could be the last time he would walk into the kitchen, the smell of toast and bacon drifting towards him on the breeze that flew in from the open window. It could be the last time that he stood by his horse, speaking words of comfort to the creature while also seeking comfort for himself. The last time he would have to look out into the horizon and see the burnt remains of the old barn. The barn where his mother and sisters died on his behalf. The worrying thoughts were enough to send him on the verge of insanity, though his firm hold on the creature before him kept him calm. Little did he know that it would be the last time he would ever touch the beautiful animal.

Colan backed away from the brown horse, watching it's large eyes follow his every moment calmly. "When I get back, I promise I'll get you out of this cramped barn" he said, winking to her as if she were a human being. With the last gesture, Colan wiped his sweaty hands on his nice pants and turned around on his heels. In a quick motion, he hopped over the white fence, his feet landing with a soft thud on the hard earth beneath him. The farther he moved away from his beloved home, the more his thoughts seemed to stretch. His worries began to overwhelm him, filling him with overflowing stress and anxiety, common emotions to the boy.

His breaths came rapid and short as he weaved through the streets, his eyes focusing on the building surrounding him. With each building and house he saw, he saw his own worry reflecting into the faces of the people inside of them. Each place he spotted, he saw the closing of windows, the locking of doors, the hugs of families before they parted for what might be the last time. It was a horrible sight, one that made District Ten seem even more eery than it was before. Even the animals seemed to notice the ominous silence, their sounds echoing into the air.

Soon the faces began to grow more, the worrying people packed into seperate groups. Every place Colan looked, there was the sound of urgent whispers, desperate pleas, and the solemn faces of family and friends. He became more stiff with each step toward his age section, his features hardening as he took notice to the many people. There were far too many, far more than he preferred. His eyes soon found their usual place, fixated straight down at the ground in an attempt to become unnoticable; invisible. He spoke to no one; gave no words of encouragement and sympathy to others, and he received none.

He was still, to others, the socially-awkward boy who preferred to not be noticed. That was who he was. Ever since his mother and sisters burnt in the farm, he shut himself away from the world. He became hard and emotionless, only letting himself escape his tight enclosure when he was with his father or around his animals. With each person he talked to, he got a feeling that they knew he had started the fire. Afterall, there where kids with him that night. Kids that, after the incident, had gone their own ways, they too preferring to forget the experience and put in the past. They seemed to have done a good job, too, for theirminds never once drifted to the quiet form of Colan.

Colan finally found his age section, his blue gaze staring straight forward, not bothering to focus on the faces of the kids surrounding him. His eyes were trained on the mayor, though the words that he spoke didn't seem to process in his mind. Each word spoken went through one ear and slipped out the other like an endless stream of water, the sound just an annoyance to his overwhelmed mind. It wasn't until it was time to announce the tributes, did he fully regain his attention.

"Ladies First," he spoke, his words sending chills through his hunched spine, the feeling causing him to straighten and regain a good posture. "Larae Vacanti!" The girl was unfamiliar to him, like any other name that would've been pulled out of the glass ball. He quickly wiped away the thought that, if his sisters hadn't died, he would have been worrying about them. It wasn't until the mayor was about to pull the slip of paper for the boys that he held his breath, waiting for the moment of relief to pass, the feeling that he felt each reaping.

"Colan Raftor!" It took quite a while for the words to process in his overflowing mind, the stares and eyes fixated on him for the first time. His long legs seemed to collapse beneath him, for he stumbled forward into the parting crowd. The sound of murmuring drifted up into the crowd, their words barely audible above the sound of of his beating heart. His eyes fell upon each gaze that was willing to connect with his, his eyes filled with desperation that was unknown to him until that moment. He felt hands push him forward gently, whispers in his ears telling him to go forward and accept his fate. They were meant to be gentle and calming, yet they left him in a state of anxiousness and fear.

The sound of his father's cries met his ears as he walked toward the stage, each step seeming to last a lifetime. He didn't dare let his gaze fall on his father, for he knew he would completely collapse within himself and allow himself to fall apart before everyone. He had to appear strong, though he knew he was already failing at that. His steps were loud as he ascended the stairs, each step thundering in his pounding ears. He stared deeply into the gaze of the mayor until he looked back at the crowd, uneasiness creeping through him as he though of speaking before them. "I-I...er... I accept" he whispered, his words barely audible.

The mayor shoved the microphone in his face impatiently, his penetrating gaze seeming to stare deep into his skull as he urged him to speak again. "I accept." His words were loud and clear, directed actually to the people instead of the ground beneath him. His eyes searched the crowd until they fell upon the the large and beady eyes of his father, tears actually falling down and weaving through each wrinkle on his face. It wasn't until that moment that Colan felt his father's grief; felt the impact of losing part of your family. His father would lose the last part of his family, his only son.