The Day Before {Skylar} So Unlike the Day After

Reaping day. It was the one day every District Five member wished to ignore. Whether one was upper class or in the Seam, no one enjoyed reaping day. Besides the Capital of course, but they also enjoy surgically changing their appearances. That was one thing he couldn't fathom. Wyatt understood what made him-himself. His stormy blue eyes, skinny appearance, hard earned muscle under pale skin. All of these things made Wyatt himself.

Tomorrow. The reaping would be held tomorrow. It most probably would be an extremely hot day. Even today it felt as if his insides were boiling. There is not one way to escape the heat on an oil rig. Between the sun's nasty rays and the unbearable machinery heat, one's skin could melt right off. A phenomenon like that wouldn't be too uncommon. He'd seen worse. Much worse.

Staring down at his boots he sighed. The worn leather began to change colors. Once a dark brown lightened greatly to a soft light brown. That didn't change that everything he owned was covered in oil, including his boots. Each and every time he glanced at his boots the overwhelming feelings of his brother came full force. It wasn't too bad this time, only leaving him with a tinge of sadness. Things could be much worse. This was true. He could be homeless or dead.
Dead. I just may be. Reaping. Everything revolved around the reaping. Just as the Districts revolved around the Capital. One way or another, they were just tools for the Capital.

His thoughts wound him around town. Absentmindedly Wyatt willed himself to drift. For once he didn't have a thing to do. The oil rig let everyone off early, to prepare for the reaping. There wasn't much to prepare for exactly. Unless they truly meant to emotionally prepare yourself. That was impossible. The same as many times before Wyatt thought of the amount of names that swam around the District Five pool in which had his name scribbled on them.

Wyatt Ryan Geiszler. Squeezing his eyes tightly his mouth was set into a uncharacteristic scowl. But he allowed his feet to keep walking, for it was the only thing he could do.

What was anyone to do?

In these bodies we live.
In these bodies we die.