1 – mistakes
Reaping day is beautiful. The sky is bright and clear, the morning crisp and cool.
But the birds do not sing. No one walks the streets. Today is the day that two children are carted off, taken from their homes and families and sent to fight for their lives in the cruelest of circumstance.
Katniss meets Gale early in the morning, before even the bakers are awake for the day. They make good time in the forest; keeping amicable silence as they bring in fowl and squirrel for the day so their families won't starve. Finally, before they go their separate ways to prepare for the festivities of the afternoon, a few whispered words are shared.
"This is it, Gale." Katniss sounds stronger than she feels. "I can feel it. Sense it."
"It won't be you, Catnip." He assures her. "It can't be."
"Who's to say it can't?" her voice is so quiet it is barely a whisper. "You know how many times my name is in there."
"It's not going to be you." Gale says firmly. "And it won't be me, either. How many pieces of paper will have my name on them?"
Katniss leaves the question hanging in the air between them. They both know that the odds are not in anyone's favour. All that's left to do is to hope that it is some other unfortunate soul who Effie Trinket summons to stage.
"I'll see you soon," Gale murmurs, giving Katniss a squeeze as he turns away. "Be strong, Catnip."
"You too." She watches Gale's back as he disappears into the forest.
"Ladies first then, shall we?" Effie Trinket's smile is saccharine, her voice overly joyful.
Her bright pink painted lips barely have a chance to utter the name on her tongue before Katniss is lunging forward.
"No! Prim!"
The little girl, her fair-haired younger sister, is about to be escorted to stage by peacekeepers as the decision falls out of her mouth before her brain catches up.
"I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute."
Katniss makes her way to the stage, stony faced and firm. No one will see her tears. No one will see her weakness. She will be strong—strong for Prim and her mother and Gale and everyone she loves.
"And what is your name, my dear?"
"Katniss Everdeen," she says sullenly into the microphone.
"Lovely," Effie says. "I'll bet that's your sister."
Katniss says nothing.
Effie shakes it off and immediately dives into the bowl with the boys names. Katniss has tuned her voice out, and stares across the crowds, watching without making eye contact. She can see that Prim has made it to her mother's side, and is crying quietly. Her eyes wander until she finds Gale, who is watching her with an undecipherable look. Sadness, helplessness, rage.
Katniss comes back to attention and hears Effie read a name.
"Peeta Mellark."
The name stirs something inside of her- a memory of a painful time several years ago. The fair-haired baker's son gingerly steps forward, making his way hesitantly towards the main aisle.
"I volunteer."
Katniss hears the voice, and she feels her resolve crumble, her heart leaping up her throat.
No.
But Gale has already stepped forward, and is being ushered towards Effie, who is excitedly clapping her hands.
"Two volunteers? Isn't this fabulous!" her voice echoes harshly through the shell-shocked crowd.
Gale comes to stand beside Katniss, and as he walks he is firm and tall and strong. Katniss can see he gives away nothing; no sign of how she feels on the inside. Her resolve is strengthened slightly.
And then Effie is introducing them. "May I present to you, your 74th annual Hunger Games tributes from District Twelve, Gale Hawthorne and Katniss Everdeen!"
The crowd does not clap, cheer, or whistle.
Yet as if rehearsed, every person in the audience raises their hand to their mouth before extending their arm and three fingers in salute as Gale and Katniss are ushered off the stage.
"Happy Hunger Games, everyone! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"
