Chapter Text
The 94th annual reaping is supposed to be Will Byers’ last.
He’s seventeen, and he’ll be eighteen before the next, which means he’ll age out. His birthday takes place two days before the reaping each year, so he has a rather fortunate stroke of luck in that regard.
Jane Ives doesn’t, as it turns out. She’s only three months away from eighteen, and if only she was born just a few months earlier, she could have escaped her fate.
Ladies being first, in the vibrant words of District 12’s glamorous reaper Tammy Thompson, her name is the first that’s called. Will’s eyes jump up from the small pebble sitting on the gravel next to his feet – a spot he had designated as a good place to dissociate on – to search for her to where she’s standing in the girls’ section, and by the time they spot her, everyone around her has turned to stare at her with sympathy.
Her face, he notices, is one of shock, but he knows there’s an inevitable hint of fear in it too.
Will swallows a thick lump in his throat as he follows Jane with his gaze while she walks up the stairs of the stage. He knows this girl. Everybody in District 12 knows this girl. The girl with no parents. The girl from nowhere. He sees Tammy pulling her in for a side hug and clapping gleefully, as if she had just won a contest, but all Will can feel is a deep sorrow forming in his chest at the thought of what Jane’s fate has turned to after being granted so little her whole life.
He blinks back to reality, however, once the loud speakers intercept Tammy’s voice through the microphone. He wished he hadn’t, though, as his brain registers what it is she says next.
“And now, for the boys!”
The irony of the joy in her voice while saying such a dark sentence strucks Will like a punch in the stomach, he thinks. But he hasn’t much time to think, anyway, as he feels his vision blurring and his palms getting even damper with sweat hearing her little shoes walking up to the gigantic bowl full of papers. His eyes turn to the pebble on the ground once again.
He’s seventeen, and he’ll be eighteen before the next, which means he’ll age out. His birthday takes place two days before the reaping each year, so he has a rather fortunate stroke of luck in that regard.
Will repeats this idea in his head as if it were a chant. As if it were the repelling spell to avoiding getting called, somehow.
Will learns rather quickly, nevertheless, that perhaps continuously thinking of something is actually what attracts it instead of the other way around.
The thing is, Will has never been one to put up a fight. Matter of fact, he often thinks he doesn’t even know how to. So, naturally, he grew up to be a people pleaser. Jonathan and his mom have to call him out for this trait sometimes, claiming he should also stand up for himself when he needs to. But these complaints seem to have no room in Will’s conscience as he starts making his way towards Tammy immediately – and, admittedly, a little too eagerly – after he hears his name loud and clear.
He could have stayed still for a second. Processed it for a bit. Looked at one of the boys in a silent cry for help. Hell, he could have even taken a run for it and disappeared in the woods, come to think of it. Knocked out a Peacekeeper, taken his gun, and start blowing up everyone in an attempt at an impromptu revolution.
But Will Byers is a chronic people pleaser, and not a fight inducer, so instead, he finds himself saying “excuse me” to every single boy in his way and walking directly toward the stairs of the stage with no chance to breathe beforehand.
Tammy mistakes this behaviour for excitement, it seems, because all of a sudden all of Will’s five senses are being flooded with a wave of baby blue accessories, intense coddling, high-pitched smooches in each cheek, and the sickly-sweet scent of the luxurious perfume she seems to apply as if it were a competition. He doesn’t want to be rude, but her extravagant makeup and her uncannily wide, paper-white smile could also be added to this list.
“Oh, but how refreshing it is to see some enthusiasm!”, she yelps into the microphone, and Will knows better than to correct her. Suddenly, he becomes aware of all the cameras pointing exactly at them.
Suddenly, he becomes aware of what is happening.
His eyes search frantically for his mother and his older brother. He knows they’re here because, even though they kept reassuring him he wouldn’t be reaped, he specifically asked (pleaded) them to come, just in case.
Will wishes the circumstances of this “I told you so” moment were different. But he’s also thankful he insisted, or he would be alone.
He finds them just before he feels a pair of hands grabbing at his shoulders harshly from behind him, and panic immediately rises in him. He feels his heart hammering behind his sternum at the thought of not getting to say a proper goodbye. Of not hearing his brother’s comforting words for the last time. Of not getting one last hug and kiss from Joyce.
Even though he is standing way too far to be able to see, tears welling up in his mother’s eyes is what Will sees before being pulled inside a room and a big door completely shutting his view of his family.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ᨒ↟ 𖠰