I eat slowly. The stale bread, not quite making its way down my dry throat. It might help if it were fresh, but it might also help if today wasn't reaping day. Luckily, I don't have to worry about my oldest brother, Bret, because he's old enough to look for a job. Considering we live in a bakery, we know what he'll choose. But instead, I have to hope with all my might that John and I don't get picked. Or Katniss.
I've known Katniss all my life, though she never stuck in my head until that one day in class when she sang the Valley Song. I swear, every bird within ear shot stopped to listen. They did the same for her father, who died in a mine explosion a few years back. Ever since her voice rang above the others', i knew. She was no longer just a girl I passed by, she was the girl. And after her father died she became so frail. I thought I was going to lose her. But after I tossed her that bread- and got slapped in the face by my mother- she was the Katniss I hoped to get to know. I may have controlled something that day, but the one thing I cannot control is the Hunger Games. And this year her sister, Primrose Everdeen, is in the bowl of slips too.
"Peeta!" my mother breaks me from my thoughts. "Eat your food! You're lucky you even have that! Those Seam people have nothing!"
I sink lower in my chair and force the food down. She is right. I shouldn't waste. The Seam people don't get much. But Katniss is probably eating better than I. She and her hunting partner, Gale Hawthorne, hunt all the time. She sells her squirrels here for my father's bread. Always amazed, I check the kill. Every piece of the body, intact, except the eye, which is where her arrow finds the animal always. And it might not bother me so bad if it were not for Gale. The way girls talk about him in town, like he's a prize meant to be won. And the way he looks at Katniss is plain, and everyone sees it. I constantly find myself defending her against the girls who are jealous of the attention she gets from Gale. But I know she is happy with him, and that is all I could ask for. Sure, I would like that to be me with her, but it won't happen. They will probably marry. And I will probably watch in the shadow as he leaves with the one who holds my heart forever.
Finishing the bread, I stand up and join my father and John, who wait for me in the front of the bakery.
"You look very nice, son." my father says in a solemn voice. No one is ever happy on this day, especially the parents. Just the thought of having your child leave for a death match is terrible. I try to do as much for my parents as possible, because in the end, they will suffer the most if I am picked. All that will happen to me is death. And if it comes, it was meant to be.
"Thank you." I tell him. He smiles the best he can and we begin our short walk to the Justice Building. Many people, children and adults alike, pass us with tired faces. Worn and dirtied by the coal dust that coats everything, they walk. I pass familiar faces. Delly Cartwright. Nevell Dorwing. Kids from school with their parents. Most of these people, including me, have slept in as long as possible. Why get up early if not necessary? In front of the Justice Building, a temporary stage has been built. Two bowls, a podium, and three chairs sit atop it. Two of those three chairs are filled buy Mayor Undersee and Effie Trinket, District 12's escort. Haymitch Abernathy, District 12's past Victor, should fill it. He's probably passed out, drunk. Ever since he came back from his games, he has been an alcoholic. In the crowd, I see her. Katniss. She looks beautiful in a blue dress that makes her olive skin and grey eyes stand out, and her dark hair braided atop her head.
John and I sign in and take our places. I search for Katniss' face but instead see my familys'. My brother, mother, and father stand on the outskirts of the area. Those who do not participate stand there. John stands a few feet to my left, looking at the ground. This will be his last year. Finally, I catch sight of Katniss. Beautiful. Breathtaking. And every year, in case I am picked, I do the same thing. I try to let go of her. Erase her from my mind, release her from my heart. And every year, it never works.
But, let the games begin.