For a few blissful moments I lie in my warm bed with my eyes closed, listening to the birds in the apple tree outside my window greet in the dawn and to the sounds of my family starting to go about the morning business downstairs. A feeling of dread hovers over me and for a moment I wonder why until I remember that today is the Reaping. How could I have forgotten? The feeling of dread settles into the pit of my stomach and I open my eyes. I glance over to the other side of the small room where my brothers empty bed is. Linden must already be downstairs helping our father. I wish I could just stay in bed all day, and for it to be tomorrow already but I know that is not an option.

'Peeta! Get up!' My mother shouts up the stairs. I groan and push the blankets off me and pull on yesterday's trousers and shirt after sniffing them. Not too bad. I splash some cold water on my face and hurry downstairs.

'Good morning Peeta,' my father greets me as I come into the kitchen. He is kneading dough on the table while Linden mans the fires and ovens.

'Morning,' I reply. Linden just nods at me and goes back to the ovens. My father stops kneading for a moment and passes me a steaming mug of tea and a fresh roll that he had set aside. I raise my eyebrows at the roll, but he just pats my hand and bids me to eat it. People think that we must eat like kings with all the wonderful goods we bake, but the reality is that we only get what doesn't sell and most of the time it's either stale or burnt. When I was small, the smells of some of the marvelous creations my father would bake would drive me to distraction. I would be so tempted to taste them but the thought of what my mother would do to me if she ever found out was enough of a deterrent. She was always liberal with her fists, but god help you if you ever ruined any of the produce. I still remember Linden's screams after she found him in the attic eating a freshly baked cinnamon scroll. That my father gives me a fresh roll today is a nod to the fact that it is the reaping. I think he must feel sentimental, and I don't blame him. Two of his sons are eligible today - my oldest brother made it through his reaping years unscathed. This will be the last year Linden is eligible. I am sixteen though. Three more reapings to survive before I can breath easily again.

I grab my apron just as the door opens and my mother comes in followed by my eldest brother, Kersen. This may be the day of the reaping, but it's business as usual for us Mellarks in the bakery. Most other people - the miners and other tradesmen, have a rest day, but we never do. People still need to eat, and we need to provide them with their food to be able to feed ourselves.

My mother acts as if it is just another day. I watch her out of the corner of my eye, wondering if she really doesn't care, or if it is just her way of dealing with the stress.

We all go about our jobs - I have cakes to decorate and I quickly loose myself in them. I jump when my father comes up behind me and touches my shoulder.

'It's lunch time Peeta, come and eat.'

We all sit around the small table. It is just a simple meal - the real feast will be tonight. We are meant to celebrate the Games, but in reality all but two unfortunate households will be celebrating their children not being selected, for being given another years reprieve before the whole disgusting circus is played out again next year. I notice a squirrel in the larder and am jolted. I wonder if it came from her.

No one really speaks during the meal, we are all wrapped in our own thoughts. I think about Katniss Everdeen and how the odds will not be in her favor today. She will have taken tesserae since her father died and she was old enough to. I know she has at least one younger sister.... five years... that is at least twenty pieces of paper with her name on it in that ball, possibly more if there are other siblings that I don't know about. Way too many for comfort. I am relatively safer - I have never had to take tesserae and there will only be 5 slips of paper with Peeta Mellark on them. But it only has to be one slip that is selected. I try to think about something else. Worrying about it will not stop or affect what will happen at the reaping. I think about Katniss. I have loved her for almost as long as I can remember. It probably sounds strange. I don't think she even knows who I am, but ever since the first day of school when my father pointed her out, I have been captivated by the girl in the red dress. Every year I make a resolution to myself that I will talk to her, introduce myself. But I never do. I have tried to distract myself with other girls, but it always comes back to her.

Time has that way of speeding up when you are dreading something, and before I know it, Mother is standing up and packing away the lunch leftovers and shooing us off to get changed. Kersen gives both Linden and I encouraging slaps on the back before going back to his little house that he shares with his wife and new baby to get ready.

I follow Linden up the stairs and into our room. He goes to the chest in the corner where our good clothes are kept and throws a pair of dress pants and a shirt that used to belong to our father. We dress in silence and then look each other over.

'You have flour on your cheek,' he says to me. I hastily wipe it off before telling him his fly is undone.

'Boys! Come on!'

We race each other down the stairs and stand before our parents while our mother gives us the once over. She is wearing a pretty green dress and for once doesn't look like she's gone prematurely grey with all the flour in her hair. The thought crosses my mind that she would actually look quite pleasant if only she would wipe that scowl off her face.

'Alright, I suppose you look presentable. Now come on, we'll be late if we don't hurry,' she says as she ushers us out the door. There is no need to lock it. Everyone will be in the square.

We briefly stop to collect Kersen and his wife Mellie. Mellie smiles at me and asks me if I want to hold the baby, Daisy. She is such a happy baby. In a way she makes me sad for this is not a happy world and I dread the day when she realizes this and stops smiling. I carry her for a bit, before Linden says that he wants to hold her. I see Kersen smirking out of the corner of my eye. Linden is not exactly known for his caring nature, but Daisy brings out a gentle side of him that I think we were all surprised to see.

Before I know it we are in the square, lining up to sign in and Linden is passing the baby back to Mellie. Our father smiles reassuringly at us and says that he will see us afterwards. Kersen gives us both another pat on the back and Mellie hugs us both and wishes us luck. I look at Mother but she is staring off into the distance. Once again I can't be sure if it's because she doesn't care or because she does.

Linden grabs my arm and we walk towards the roped off areas for the twelve to eighteen year olds to stand. I tell Linden that I'll see him later as I leave him in the eighteens area. I make my way over to the sixteens and quickly spot some of my school friends. Joss, Harken, Cory and Moris all nod at me and we start talking about inconsequential things, anything but the reality that possibly one of us will be sent to our deaths today. My eyes rove over the crowd until they are drawn to her, to Katniss. She looks beautiful. Her hair is not in its usual practical braid, but up in a beautiful design. Sh is wearing a blue dress, but I can't see much of it through the crowd. I notice that I'm not the only one looking at her. She is oblivious to it though, as usual. The square quickly fills up and people are being directed to side streets to watch from screens when the clock strikes two. Business time.

The crowd goes quiet and I turn my attention to the podium in front of me. There are two large balls - the reaping balls. They have small pieces of paper on them with our names. Five have my name on them. The mayor of our District, Mayor Undersee stands and starts to give the speech that he gives every year. I tune out while he reads it, I have heard it so many times and it never changes. I try to stop myself from looking at Katniss, but my eyes can't seem to help themselves, and then I feel horrible for thinking about love during the reaping.

Finally the mayor finishes his speech and reads the very short list of past District 12 victors. Two. We've only ever had two. Hallie Porter who won the 27th Hunger Games and Haymitch Abernathy who won the 50th. Only Haymitch is still alive today. This year is the seventy-fourth games, plus one of the Quarter Quells where 4 tributes were chosen. That's 150 kids who have gone off on the tribute train for the entertainment of the Capitol and only two have ever returned. Two. Your odds are not good if you're from District 12 evidently.

Our sole surviving victor, Haymitch, choses this moment to stagger onto the stage, hollering something unintelligible. He's a bit of a joke really. Always drunk and mostly harmless. Today is no exception. If anything he seems to be more drunk than usual. The crowd gives him a token applause but this only seems to confuse him. He launches himself at Effie Trinket, the Capitol escort and gives her a huge hug which she tries to fend off. I can't help but laugh, and I'm guessing that most of Panem is as well. Her pink hair must be a wig - it's slightly off centre now.

I almost feel sorry for the mayor, he looks so distressed. District 12 will be the laughing stock of the nation, but hey, what's new? He tries to salvage to situation by quickly introducing Effie Trinket. She is as bright and bubbly as ever, I don't know how she does it. She gives her signature, 'Happy Hunger Gams! And may the odds be ever in your favour!' and then says what an honour it is to be here, but we all know that she's itching to be promoted to a better district, especially after today's encounter with Haymitch.

'Ladies first!' trills Effie. It is time for the drawing. She stands in front of the glass ball with all the girls names and pulls out a slip of paper. I find myself thinking 'Not Katniss, not Katniss, please not Katniss,' and I breath a selfish sigh of relief when Effie calls out Primrose Everdeen. It's not Katniss. I look over at her but the sight is not comforting. She looks shocked, horrified, frozen. A wisp of a girl with blond hair starts walking towards the podium from the twelves area. There is a grumbling in the crowd as there always is when a twelve or thirteen year old is chosen. But I can't tear my eyes away from Katniss. She sways and starts to fall but a boy from the Seam who is standing behind her catches her.

Oh no. Primrose Everdeen. Everdeen. Katniss Everdeen. I look again at the little girl and recall seeing her with Katniss. It's her little sister. Poor Katniss. Poor Primrose. Then Katniss does something that I don't expect but that doesn't really surprise me. She runs forward calling out 'Prim! Prim!', the crowd parting before her, and catches Prim before she gets to the podium and sweep her behind her, protecting her.

'I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!'

No. No it can't be. Katniss can't go to the Games. But it is. This isn't just some nightmare, it's real and Katniss Everdeen, the girl in the red dress, is being ushered up onto the stage. I just stare at her. I barely comprehend what Effie Trinket and the mayor say next, but I'm jolted back to reality when Effie Trinket asks for everyone's applause and no one claps. Not a single person. There is just silence. I look around me, impressed with my district, and I catch Gale Hawthorne, Katniss' hunting partner, touching the three middle fingers of his left hand to his lips and holding them out to Katniss. Without thinking I do the same, Joss, Harken, Cory and Moris look at me and then repeat the gesture, and before I know it everyone is doing it. It means thank you, it means admiration and it means good bye to someone you love.

Goodbye Katniss. I love you.

We are brought back to reality by Haymitch. Drunk, hopeless Haymitch. He staggers across the stage and buts his arm around her shoulders and I wish it was me putting my arm around her, comforting her. He starts to yell into the camera, but my eyes are all on Katniss until Haymitch actually falls off the stage. I am still watching Katniss though and I see her compose herself while the camera's are all fixed on Haymitch lying unconscious on the ground and I am grateful to him for something.

Haymitch is soon whisked away and Effie is trying to get everyone's attention again. It's time to draw the lucky boy tribute. I hardly have time to think about it before she withdraws the first slip she touches and calls out the name.

'Peeta Mellark!'