Welcome to the 74th Hunger Games: From the point of view of Peeta Mellark:

I opened my eyes to the smell of freshly baked bread, a luxury most of the people that live here in District 12 don't have. I know how lucky I am, despite having an angry family that is always at odds with each other. My mother, Mera, is abusive. Actually, I don't know if that's really the term to use. She's strict, yes, but…No, there's no excuse to use. She is abusive. When my brothers or I misbehave, or at least if she thinks we are misbehaving, we're beaten. Sometimes just with a belt, sometimes with a hot peel -the wooden thing used to take the bread out of the burner- sometimes even with a metal rod used to break up wood in the fireplace.

She's a nice woman on the outside, always says just what she should in public, always has a courteous smile on her face, a firm handshake, and a professional look about her that is sure to earn her respect in the town. My father, on the other hand, no one knows of. He is simply known as "The Baker". No one in town even calls him by his first name, Lon. He is kind, and patient, and why he and my mother chose each other I'll probably never know. I'm sure that he loves her; he must to put up with the way she acts. She belittles him so much, it drives me crazy; But for some reason it doesn't seem to have any effect on him. My older brother Riley thinks he's scared, and even tells him that to his face. That pisses me off to no end. But I don't think that's what it is, I just think maybe he really doesn't mind it. He's a really easy going guy, always has been.

I live in a neighborhood with other merchants such as the butcher or the dairy owner. Other parts of town include the Town Square, which has a Justice Building where public events are held, like weddings. There's also a small park, and five absolutely huge television screens- I mean these must be at least as tall as I am- placed around the square for Capitol announcements and such. The mayor lives here too. Then there's what is known as The Hob. It's technically a black market, but a lot of our Peacekeepers buy their goods there as well, so as long as everything is running smoothly there they keep their mouths shut about the whole operation.

There is the school district between the Hob and the Town Square. We have a primary and secondary school. Kids start primary at the age of 5, and start secondary at the age of 12, then graduate at 18. By the school district, are the mines. District 12's trade is mining. It's what our district produces for the Capitol. Most of the men over age 18 work in the mines. That's probably where I'll end up. We have the bakery, but it's really run just fine with one person, and my eldest brother Jacob will run it. So Riley and I will probably be in the mines.

The mines are right next to a place called The Seam- it is essentially the poor part of town. All the houses look alike, and to call them houses is actually an overstatement. They are really more like run down shacks. I went inside one once. There's a tiny kitchen next to the living room, no formal dining room. Houses with children had two rooms and one bathroom, houses without had only one room. The floors were made of old, rotting wood, as well as the walls and roof. The house I went into had a leaky roof, though I don't know if they all do or not, I sure hope not- it gets pretty cold, and not to mention rainy, during the winter and spring. Most of my schoolmates live in The Seam. Sadly, the poorest part of town is also the most populated. I try to avoid the Seam whenever possible; seeing the malnourished children upsets me.

Beyond the Seam is the fence. It's electrified twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, it's the Capitol's way of keeping us inside the safety of our districts. There are holes where it looks like people sneak through, and I think I may know who it is that is sneaking. Going into the woods out of District 12 is punishable by death. But I would never tell, for more reasons than one; though I sure as hell wouldn't ever go out there.

I'm really more like my dad, patient, kind, loving. My brother Riley is a lot like my mom, and my older brother Jacob seemed to get the best of my mother and father's traits. He is kind without being a pushover, and he is stern without being mean. That's why he is already being trained how to run the bakery. All I get to do is frost the cakes.

Riley smacks me on the back of the head playfully. "Get up bonehead, reaping's today."

That's right. It's September 1st. Every September 1st the Capitol "reaps" a boy and girl from each district to compete in a twisted game for the entertainment of the Capitol citizens. I rub my eyes and stretch, then stand up and walk into our living room, where a plate of fruit and toast waits for me and my brothers. Jacob is sitting next to my father, drinking coffee and reading a newspaper. They look like clones, as my father is doing the same. My mother is still sleeping. Riley punches me again in the shoulder, then sits next to me and starts inhaling his food. I have no idea how he is not fat, he eats so much and is the laziest person I know. It disgusts me how he treats food like there will always be more when so many people worry daily about not having enough.

At eleven o' clock, Riley and I have to take the previous days unsold loaves of bread down to the hob to sell off. Since it's at a much cheaper price, some of the people in the Seam can afford to buy it. Sometimes, when I'm here alone, I'll give a loaf or two to a hungry family that needs it, but I can't do that when Riley is here, he'll not only tell my mother, but probably tell the Peacekeepers.

By twelve o' clock, people are starting to close up shop, because the mandatory reaping is in the Town Square at two- but my mother has instructed us to close no earlier than twelve-fifteen. And I'm glad, because I see a familiar face heading into the Hob right now. Actually, two of them. Gale and Katniss, Katniss and Gale. They come into the Hob at least once a week to trade freshly hunted game and fish, and some wild berries. They are the ones who sneak outside of the fence. They seem very comfortable with each other, but they never really seemed romantic. Yet, everyone in the Hob talks about their future after they leave. Everyone thinks they are perfect for each other. They probably are, but I wish that weren't true.

Riley smacks the back of my head again. "Time to go, punk."

He balances an empty basket we brought the loaves in on his shoulder, and motions for me to get the other. I do, then we walk back towards the house. When we get home, there are two outfits laid across my bed. One for me and one for Riley. My family isn't wealthy enough to afford suits for us for reaping day, but we are to dress nicely. I am wearing a grey button down shirt with khaki colored pants and black shoes.

Riley is wearing a black, freshly ironed tee shirt, some white dress pants, and black shoes. I use a little bit of water and a comb to make sure my hair looks halfway decent, and wash my face. Unfortunately, no matter how many times I wash my face, the look of apprehension and anxiety won't go away. I've only got my name in the reaping five times, some people my age have theirs in ten times or even twenty, depending on if they sign up for tessarae. Riley has his name in seven times, as he is eighteen years old. The chances of either one of us getting called are slim, as there are close to a thousand eligible males in our district. But someone has to be chosen.

The town square is packed with people, all eligible males are to wait on one side of a thick rope, then there's a middle aisle leading straight up to the stage, where the unfortunate will stand when their names are called. The other side of the aisle, there's another rope, the eligible girls are to wait behind this one. All families of all eligible and possible tributes wait behind us, hoping for the best, but expecting the worst.

I sneak a look back at my family. My father is chewing on his thumbnail, a sign of how nervous he is. My brother Jacob is just standing there next to him, and then Jacob makes eye contact with me, and gives me a hopeful thumbs up, as if to say "May the odds be in your favor."

My mother, on the other hand, is chatting up another woman from the neighborhood we live in, talking about who knows what- but probably gossip. Such as who isn't dressed properly, or whose names are in the reaping the most amount of times, or whose parents aren't keeping their composure. I love my mother, but sometimes I don't understand why she can be so insensitive.

Then, my brother Riley tells me to pay attention. A Capitol announcer by the name of Effie Trinket, according to the profile on the big tv screens, is walking out. Behind the microphone and glass bowls where she'll draw names, are three chairs, made with wood and velvet. One is intended for Effie, one for the mayor, and one for our district's only living Hunger Games victor, whose name is Haymitch Abernathy. He is not in his seat. Everyone knows he is a drunk mess all the time, so he's probably passed out in a gutter somewhere. He doesn't care if the reaping is mandatory. He'll show up when he feels like it.

Effie sits down in her chair next to Mayor Undersee. When two o' clock strikes, Mayor Undersee gets up to the microphone, and begins reading the history of Panem, just like he does every year during the reaping. Rebellion, blah blah blah, Dark Days, blah blah blah. I'm not really paying attention anymore. It's the same story we've all heard a thousand times and really couldn't care less about since our lives may be cut short.

Then, near the end of the mayor's speech, a very drunk, very messy Haymitch staggers onto the stage and tries to hug Effie. Clearly disgusted, she pushes him away and fixes her hair before stepping up to the microphone. Haymitch passes out in his chair. His behavior is on national television, and I know my mother is bitching about it to my dad this very second. "I can't believe he would go up there like that not having bathed or dressed nicely. And he is drunk. I would be absolutely ashamed if…" By this time my father normally tunes out.

Effie Trinket walks excitedly over to the microphone. She addresses us her strange, uppity Capitol accent, "Happy Hunger Games," like it's some sort of holiday or something, "May the odds be ever in your favor!"

Then she talks about how happy she is to be here but I really just want the whole day to be over with. I don't care that there is a big feast after the reaping, with friends and family and fun and games. They are all my mother's friends anyway. I know there are two district 12 families grieving while we are celebrating, and it's wrong. Effie then inhales sharply and says, "Ladies First!" I'm crossing my fingers, hoping it isn't a girl I know. It's horrible anyway you look at it, but slightly less horrible than someone I know being up there.

Effie clears her throat, then looks up from the paper, and says "Primrose Everdeen!"

My eyes fall to the floor immediately. Not only do I know this girl, she is only twelve. Twelve! How sick and twisted it is for the Capitol to send a twelve year old to almost certain death for their entertainment! I can't bear to watch the poor girl walk up to the stage, and I can't bear to look at the expression on her older sister's face. But then something happens and I have to look up. Katniss, the sixteen year old girl I see in the Hob, and have had just one encounter with, runs forward towards the stage, and shouts, "Prim! No! I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

The crowd, who was previously muttering under their breaths how unfair it is to send a twelve year old to the arena, goes silent. Everyone except for Effie. She says, "Lovely!"

It's not lovely. "But I believe there is the small manner of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and..."

I stop listening at this point. Until the mayor says it doesn't really matter and if the girl wants to volunteer, just let her. I want to look away, but I can't. Instead, I watch in horror as the girl that I am in love with walks toward the stage, and then climbs the steps, taking her place at Effie's side.