Prologue
You could say I have a good life. Me, Katniss Everdeen, victor of the 74th Hunger Games, engaged to someone amazing, all the money in the world, but that would be pure ignorance. My only comfort is Peeta these days. I've lost Prim, I've lost Gale, and I've lost my home. I can't bring myself to be mad with Prim, and I don't regret my decision of choosing Peeta at all. I can bring myself to be mad at Gale, however. How could he leave me here? One of the only reminders of my old life. My mom works as a healer in District 14. While the construction's going on, some workers get sick, for "mysterious and unknown diseases". It's obviously something wrong with the construction materials, and everyone knows it, but nobody says it.
These last few days have been especially tough, and I've woken up screaming several times this week. Peeta's hushed me back to sleep in his arms every time, but that only stops them, it doesn't abolish them. Last night was the worst, I fell out of bed and wailed at the top of my lungs. It's because today is the day of the reaping.
District 13 has been forced to send forth tributes, now that every connection between them and nuclear forces have been abolished. Now we manufacture plastics. Plastics.It's the worst smell to wake up to.
I wasn't always dreading the reaping. In fact, just a month ago I slept happily, but that was before the Capitol called me in the dead of night. I have to mentor this year's tributes, and next year's, and next years, until there's a new victor who the capitol has deemed more interesting. I was horrified, and that's when the nightmares began.
Of course, I have to comply. I was told I have to attend the reapings this year or else authorities will come to our house and "escort" us. Yes, us, Peeta's insisted upon accompanying me, and I haven't complained once. I want him there. It's been traveling along the grape vine that they keep mentors in blank rooms with bunk beds and a toilet, getting served three meals, but other than that, only leave the room to undergo mentoring duties. The Capitol immediately squashed these rumors, but everyone knows they're still true. Haymitch has told me.
Haymitch is my new good friend, as difficult as it is. We're slowly working on his alcohol obsession, the key word being slowly. We're neighbors, so we see each other often, but nothing can replace Peeta. And nothing but Peeta can replace Gale.
I'm teaching Peeta to hunt. He absolutely sucks at it, not to mention he's a bit worried about getting caught, but it doesn't bother him to much, which is good. He's caught a squirrel. That's about it.
Hunting isn't my favorite activity anymore. Every time I watch an animal's life end, their twitching bodies turning lifeless, I think of dying tributes, and shudder. Peeta has the opposite approach. He doesn't look at them at all. He wants to get it over with, but he won't let me skin it. I don't think he likes feeling helpless, like I do at night, when he comforts me.
I'll have to go through it all again.