Author's Note:
I don't own The Hunger Games. If I did, I would hardly be publishing here.
So yeah, this is my first chapter and i hope you like it! Please review!
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The smell of freshly baked bread, penetrates my nose. It's a pleasant smell. I stay in bed a while before having to get up. In a moment, I'll have to go get the flour sacks. That's what I do every morning. Most kids would stay in bed on a day like this, but not me. Actually, I'm glad that I can work. It keeps me busy. Yes. The day everyone dreads, is today. It's the day of the Reaping. I'll admit, I'm nervous. But , not for me. I mean, there is always a chance that my name will get pulled out, but how big is the chance? I'm nervous for everybody else . Not me. Of course I'm not saying I want to get picked, of course not! But you know, I don't really care, not as much as I should.
With a sigh, I get up, put some clothes on, quickly go to the bathroom and then walk down the stairs. On the way down I hear a familiar voice in the bakery. It's the voice of Gale Hawthorne. I feel a pang of jealousy. I don't really know him myself, I know him because the girls at school talk about him. And Katniss. The girl I've been in love with for as long as I can remember. But of course, she doesn't even know I exist. The closesnt thing we've even had to a conversation was when I was about 11, and we didn't even speak. I bet she's forgotten. I haven't. I'll never forget that day. I see it clear as day. I shake my head to clear my mind. Do not think of her. I can't, I forbid myself. It is not healthy anymore. I think about her too much. Far too much.
"Peeta!" I hear my mother screaming. "What are you doing up there? Those flour bags don't carry themselves!" I sigh heavily. yes of course. The flour sacks. See, I think of Katniss and forget everything else. And now I'm thinking about her again. Yes, good job Mellark, your doing great so far.I walk down the stairs and carefully avoid the voices that come from the bakery. I go out the back door and take off towards the market. Along the way I keep my mind clear of anything about Katniss, I don't even think about the reaping. I think about what I'm going to put on my next cake glazes. Maybe flowers that fill an entire pasture with their color. Or maybe the colour of the sun setting. Before I know it, I am at the supplier. The skinny woman, Marcy, stands behind the counter and is busy with a few leaves of paper.
"Right, the order is for Mellark, right?" She asks and looks at me straight in the eye. Her eyes are sad. Maybe someone she knows is joining the reaping for the first time ever, or maybe she's concerned for the safety of loved one.I nod in acknowledgment and she walks to the back of the stall. A moment later she returns with 2 bags. As I take them off of her, I realise their not as heavy and bulky as usual. I put the money on the counter and say goodbye. She mumbles something behind me, something like 'Good luck' I think. I walk out the door and go home. Along the way I see a few people who I know. Most say the same, good luck. I wish them luck too. It would be rude to just snap at everyone, which is an idea ebbing away every time someone mumbles to me.
Once home I put the bags in the garage and walk up the stairs to get dressed for the reaping. I pull my clothes off and go into our old, yellowed bathtub. The water is cold. Julian and Peter have probably already had a bath, and used all the hot water. They're too old for the reaping now. After bathing quickly, I wrap a towel around me and look in the mirror. My blonde hair is in moist peaks on my forehead. I shave very carefully, as to not cut myself.
When I'm done I pull out my reaping clothes and slip them on. Just a pair of pants and a blue shirt. They're hand-me downs off Julian, But they fit me fine. I'm not much smaller than my brothers. I cast a last look in the mirror and go back down stairs. My father is waiting at the bottom with my mother behind. My father looks worried but my mom just looks bored. I wonder what she'd do if my name was called. It's hard to tell what she's thinking. My father, a man of not many words has, to my suprise, tears in his eyes, and when I reach the bottom, he pulls me into his arms. I do not know what to do, so I give him clumsy taps on his back.
"Good luck, son." He whispers in my ear. I stammer a 'thank you' and then find my way to the door. As the reaping gets closer, I begin to feel nervous. There is not much chance that my name will be pulled from the reaping ball, but still, I'm nervous.
Finally at the square, I go join the rows of other boys. There aren't many others her because I'm pretty early. Before I know it, the mayor steps up to the podium. I'm at the sides with my friends and wait. Five minutes later i see my best friend Harry. He comes up to me with a smirk playing on his face.
"Hey Peeta!" He says and we do our silly handshake. "Are you nervous?" He tries to make a joke because he doesn't want to show how nervous he really is.
"A little." I stammer. "Aren't you?" He gives an uneasy laugh. I can tell what he'll say next. Something along the lines of 'Mellark, guys like me are not afraid.' He plays his easy facade well, but I just know he's shaking inside.
"Mellark, guys like me are not afraid." He jokes. Of course. Spot on. He always says things like this, trying to hide how worried he is. I can see it in his eyes, and hear it in his voice.
Effie Trinket steps on stage with her signatur, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" Her words ring in my ears. The next part will be so incredibly boring. So I only half listen as the mayor reads somthing. And then it's time for the draw. As always the girls first. Effie plunges her hand in to the girls ball. Everyone goes silent. My hands start to itch. The only thing I can think is 'Don't let it be Katniss. Don't let it be someone I know.' She takes the paper from the ball and goes back to her place. She reads the strip loud and clear.
"Primrose Everdeen!"
And it's not Katniss. It is her younger sister. This is worse than anything you can imagine. ***ing odds.
