I do not own The Hunger Games, any characters, or any quotes. All credit goes to Suzanne Collins and her amazing creation.
Chapter 1
I roll over again and open my eyes. A faint trail of light has
crept in, through the warped yellow-tinted window. I look over and see Adrian, my older brother snoring loudly on his bed (our rooms are joint due to lack of space) and his arm lightly brushes the floor.
I slip out of bed and tip toe across the floor, sliding open the window, which squeaks, I quickly glance at my brother but he is still dead to the world. I slide out on the window and pull myself three feet up onto the decomposing roof and slide to the edge. From this part of the bakery, I can just make out the meadow near the supposedly electrified fence that surrounds our district. I know better, after watched her for almost as long as I can remember. Her humble house peaks out from behind a few others, also nearly in shambles.
Suddenly, my heart flutters a little as I see Katniss scamper out of her house in a leather jacket, and as always, hair set in a single braid. The braid bounces on her back as she runs to the fence, pausing for a moment and then pushing through a whole towards the bottom. The last thing I see is her deep brown leather boot disappearing into the forest. I don't know how long I sit there as I watch the sunrise and it peaks over the mountains in the distance. Forcing the forest to turn a vibrant shade of green.
"Peeta! You need to get off the roof and quit daydreaming. It's Reaping Day!" my mother yells, I can tell she is downstairs in the bakery, probably making some bread, that we won't be able to eat or afford. Most of District 12 is starving, we are still better off than most, but I still wouldn't say we are living in luxury. The more desperate people in the area can put their name into the reaping another time, in order to get tessarae, a small amount of grain and oil, barely enough for one person for a whole year. Luckily, I live in the merchant's area, where I've never had to enter my name to receive that, we scrape by. My name is only in 8 times. The odds are in my favor, compared to some of my classmates who I know are in there at least twenty times. I shudder as I question how many times Katniss had to enter her name.
I slink back in the window and see Adrian's empty bed and put on some 'nice' clothes for the Reaping, apparently we are expected to dress nicely so they can ship us off and force us to fight to death in the Hunger Games. Nobody dares to question it though. You'd be shot on the spot, even though I hear our Peacekeepers are mellow. I walk down the creaky wooden stairs and sit at the table between my two older brothers, Adrian and Ross. For Adrian, this is his last Reaping he will participate in; Ross was done a year ago. When you turn 18, you are no longer entered into the pool of youth in District 12.
"Where were you this morning?" Adrian asks, a sly smile on my face. He knows I go up on the roof almost every morning. I stare down at my food picking at it. I don't feel like eating. I notice Adrian's not eating much either. Ross shovels food into his face; he doesn't have the monster looming behind him. My family isn't that close, I couldn't even name anybody's favorite color, maybe my dads. I think its blue, like the sky, light or dark, he sometimes would sit with me on the roof and point out clouds, or at night, the stars. But that's never when my mom's home.
I gaze at our miniscule clock about the oven that reads 12:32 pm. We are required to be in the town square at 1:00pm. The ceremony begins at 2:00pm I don't know what will happen if anyone doesn't, but I am not sure I wish to find out.
I get in line behind the other boys of the district. I look above the crowd, not sure what I am searching for until I catch a small glimpse of a dark braid hanging down her back. I swallow as I move up in the line, barely noticing when I am pricked and shoved forward. I make my way to the section for other boys my age. Everyone is divided by age. The youngest (12-year-olds) are the furthest from the stage. I don't understand why they make the youngest walk the furthest to the stage. They are already terrified. I spot Katniss, hugging Prim and walking over to the other sixteen year olds. I walk over and stand in the area roped off for sixteen year olds. I look around and spy the family and friends around the outside, who are not of the chosen age. I glare on stage and see the crystal clear bowls filled with strips of paper with names on them. In the boys bowl, there are 8 slips that read Peeta Mellark. I find Katniss and see her doing the same as me, sizing up the girls bowl. I follow her gaze to it, wondering how many times her name is in. 10? 15? More? I erase it from my mind and realize the mayor has gotten out of his seat and is beginning his annual speech. Talking about what Panem used to be, something called North America, and about the war, that the capitol won. Somehow, all this ended up being the place we know today, the Capitol, surrounded by 13 districts, now 12. The Treaty of Treason created this thing they call the Hunger Games. It is supposed to remind the districts of the past. The rules of the games are not too difficult to understand while they are still hard to wrap your mind around. Basically, the capitol is punishing the districts by forcing them to offer up a boy and girl per district (called tributes), so twenty-four in all. They are then put in an arena, something mechanically created by the capitol and then they are forced to fight to the death until only one tribute remains. They are then promised a peaceful life in the Victors Village of their district, where they live in a nice house, with nice food and a nice life. But they are forced to mentor the rest of the tributes from their district until they die. We have had exactly two victors, one of which is dead. So we are left with Haymitch, a repulsive middle-aged drunk who cares about nobody but himself from what I have seen. As the mayor reads our pathetic list of Victors, Haymitch decides to appear. Obviously, he is very drunk. The mayor tries to distract from Haymitch, who is currently hugging a very flustered looking Effie Trinket and introduces her, "And I will now turn the time over to Effie Trinket, our escort."
A pink haired Effie excitedly rushes away from Haymitch to the microphone, almost shouting, in her funny Capitol accent, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" I crane my neck and see Katniss, she is looking somewhere in front of me, I see her smile emptily and look for whatever she is looking at. I spy Gale smiling back at her, also not very convincingly. I should've known it was him. He is a tall and, from what I hear the girls say, a very attractive guy a few years older than us. He hunts with Katniss and I wouldn't be surprised if she loves him like every other girl. My thoughts are interrupted as Effie exclaims, "Ladies first!" She walks over to the glass bowl with girl's names in it and digs her long pink-nailed hand around in the bowl, stirring around the fate of a poor girl. Finally, she pulls out on slip and as she unfolds it, the world slows down and goes dead silent. I hold my breath. She walks back to the podium and reads loudly and clearly the name of somebody who is not Katniss.
"Primrose Everdeen."