Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters besides Rachel. They all belong to the amazing Suzanne Collins from "The Hunger Games" trilogy.
"Good luck Peeta." I tell Peeta Mellark, my best friend. He turns to me; he takes my hands in his.
"Same to you Rachel" he tells me, I smile. I know Peeta's nervous; he hates the Games, the Hunger Games. And worse of all, today is reaping day.
He lets go of my hands and goes off to his section for the reaping. I go to mine, girls of fifteen years old. Peeta is sixteen, so he's on the opposite side one row in front of me. Peeta isn't my boyfriend, no far from that. He's only my best friend, because he saved my life, long ago, but he did.
Effie Trinket takes the stage and wishes us all a "Happy Hunger Games!" then goes into a whole talk of Panem's history. It will take an hour so I allow myself to remember when I first met Peeta:
I hunched my shoulders over myself as I passed through the Hob. I was looking for scraps, food, any sort of food. Because I didn't have a home, my parents were dead, and so I was homeless. A nine year old homeless girl. There was no one in the Hob; it was late, very late. I decided to head by the bakery, usually I could count of finding some stale bread in their trash bin. I staggered into their backyard; I had hurt my leg a few days earlier and was pretty sure that I had fractured my ankle. But I couldn't tell anyone, if I did I would go to the home. Being homeless was better than going to that hell hole. I reached the trash and lifted the lip, nothing. But I heard the back door open, the bakers wife ran outside waving a rolling pin at me. My eyes grew wide and I turned and started to stagger away, she'll hit me with it, she had before. "You mutt! Get out! Get!" she yelled at me. I tripped and fell just at the edge of their yard, but she still came, poised to hit me. "I'm not a dog!" I cried to her.
"May as well be!" She brought the rolling pin down on my face. The pain was horrid, and I saw her raise it again. I closed my eyes; I heard impact but didn't feel it. I opened my eyes to see a boy standing in front of me. "Peeta move!" the lady ordered.
"No, I'll take her back to her house" Peeta had said, the lady eyed him then nodded. Leaving us alone. Once she was gone Peeta turned to me, "You okay?" he asked. I shook my head, did I look okay? And what is he talking about, I've seen him watch me, he knows I'm homeless.
"I have an idea, someone who might just take you in if I make a deal with him." Peeta picked me up and carried me through town in the darkness; he was strong for a ten year old. I gasped when he turned toward Victor's Village. Only one man lived there, Haymitch Abernathy, District Twelve's own living victor. "He's not too bad, really." Peeta assured me. We walked up to Haymitches house.
A drunken Haymitch had opened the door. "Hey bread boy!" he greeted Peeta, liquor fumes filled my nose.
"Haymitch, can my friend stay here? She's hurt, I promise I'll take care of her, you just let her live here." Peeta spoke quickly.
"What if I say no" he taunts.
"Then you get no bread, or the liquor I bring you" Peeta's eyes had narrowed.
Awhile later Haymitch agreed and Peeta put me in the vacant and only clean room upstairs. He had left me with the promise to come back tomorrow. And he did, every day he came to see me, every day he took care of me. He helped me get better. So eventually I opened up to him, we became inseparable friends. Haymitch even grew on me; he was like a father now to me. He even officially adopted me, so every year I had to go to the Capital with him to the Games. So that way I was friends with all the past victors.
"Gentlemen first!" Effie says happily, I cross my fingers, I pray. She picks a name; a feeling shoots through me, fear, unexplainable fear. I know whose name is on that piece of paper before she even reads the name.
"Peeta Mellark!"