Gale POV:
"And may the odds be ever in your favor." The toxic sound of Effie Trinket's voice jolts me from aimless worry. Nervousness is replaced with anxiety. Let the 74th Hunger Games begin, I say bitterly in my mind.
But I should not be this worried. I have escaped so many years of the Hunger Games, and let's face it, the odds have never been in my favor.
I wouldn't be so tense, but this isn't about me. It never has been. It's about my family. All seven of them. My mom, Rory, Vick, Posy. And then there's Katniss, Prim, and their mom. I wouldn't be able to take care of any of them from inside of an arena. And I certainly wouldn't be able to do it dead.
"As always, ladies first," Effie announces, as if she's said it a hundred times before. I bet she has.
What if everyone stops watching the Hunger Games? What if no one kills anyone else in the arena? What if their show becomes a weapon for rebellion? Everyone has watched the Hunger Games for so long, that it has become second nature. But there are those who are inclined to fight it. The capitol has unwittingly given us a chance to rise against them. We just need to be willing to take it.
"And now for the gentleman," Effie says.
I missed it. I missed the female tribute. Could it be... no. I let out a sigh of relief when I see streaks of red hair next to Effie. It wasn't Katniss. Not this time. Thank God.
The square is so quiet, I could hear a pin drop as Effie takes a minute to mix up the names in the bowl. She carefully selects one with her perfectly manicured nails and slowly unfolds it to read it.
Taking a breath and slowly letting it out, I remind myself that I won't get picked. That I can't. That all odds are against me getting picked. That if I escaped death so many times, I will escape it once more.
"Gale Hawthorne."
Suddenly, I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I turn slightly, and see people shifting sideways, creating a path. Breathing slowly and heavily, I remind myself of courage, and will my feet to move forward. I am not a coward. At least it wasn't Katniss. At least it wasn't Vick, or Rory, or Posy. But it would have been better if it wasn't me either.
Shaking, I find my way to the stage, and see faces staring up at me trying to look remorseful, but mostly looking relieved. It occurs to me that this is the same expression that has been on my face for the past six years. Whatever happens over the next few weeks, this will be the last reaping, so somehow, despite everything that's going on, I am relieved, because, at least now, there is no more waiting.
I search the audience for familiar faces, and when I finally find them, I wish I didn't look at them. My mother is sobbing into her hands, loudly and remorsefully. Rory, Vick, and Posy all have silent tears streaking down their faces. There is more pain in seeing the ones I love hurt so much than in being chosen by the games. When I find Katniss, instead of seeing water in her eyes, I see anger.
I'm distracted from my pity when I see the red-headed girl reach her hand out to me, and realize I'm supposed to shake it.
The rest happens silently.
Page Break
They take me into a room where I am supposed to say goodbye. It strikes me as odd that I am allowed to say goodbye to those I love before I die, when so many people are denied that privilege. But I don't know what I will say. Will I say that I will try to win, even-
"Hey," Katniss walks into the room, a worried look etched upon her face. What will I say?
"Hey, Catnip," I say, trying to stay cheerful.
Katniss starts talking really fast, like she's memorized a speech. "Listen Gale, your really good with a bow. You taught me how to hunt, after all. You just need to strategize and get sponsers. I know you will win. Don't worry about your family, I will hunt for them. Just worry about getting out of there, because I know you can. And Gale..."
"Yeah?" I ask, startled by her zeal.
"Just..."
"Just what?"
Suddenly, a guard walks into the room. He clears his throat, and Katniss has to leave.
"Just what, Katniss?"
"Nevermind. Just win, for me, okay?"
