Crack! The sharp sound of the wooden handle pales in comparison to the pain it causes, but I don't care as long as I can help the starving girl sitting outside our back door; if she dies, there will be no reason to live. I take the burned bread, not really paying attention to my mom's screaming. She finally walks away. I toss the bread to Katniss, then slosh through the deep mud, and almost run into my dad. He has a grim smile on his face, almost as if I was too late to help. I turn around and see a stiffening corpse staring back at me.
I wake up sitting straight up, panting. I look out the window and realize that I'm extremely late for work. I grab a nearby pair of pants and a ratty shirt, and start running down the stars, dressing on the way. Three steps from the bottom, I fall over with a clunk. My brothers laugh as I try to regain my sense of balance. I throw on my shirt as I walk to the kitchen. My mom only has to look at me to know that I'll be in trouble tonight, after the reaping. It's already nearly 11 o'clock and I'm supposed to start working at eight. My dad, always the quiet one, points to a cake for me to start decorating. My brothers nearly run into me a half-dozen times, making my job much more difficult. Normally, I'd be horsing around with them, but I'm too worried about the reaping.
Dad looks around, and, seeing that Mom isn't around, tells me, "The Seam boy, Gale, came this morning. I gave him a loaf of bread for a squirrel. I saved the last of it for you to have for breakfast". I thank him and get my small breakfast. I'll be lucky to eat lunch today, so I eat as much of the meat as possible. Just as I finish, I hear Mom striding into the kitchen. I rush back to the half-decorated cake before she is close enough to notice my absence. For the first time in a year, she lets me quit working early. Normally, I'd be excited, but it's only to get ready for the reaping. I take a rare bath, scrubbing my wavy blond hair. I wish I could take a shower, but District 12 doesn't have much money; the only people in the District with showers are the Undersees and Head Peacekeeper Cray, although I'm not even sure if Cray has a shower. If he does have one, he most certainly doesn't use it.
When I finish bathing, I dress in the reaping clothes my dad left out: black slacks and a rust-colored button-down shirt, with brown shoes. I switch the shoes to my black boots before attempting to make my hair look nice, or at least not electrocuted, until my mom comes charging op the stairs with a wooden spoon. She begins the difficult process of herding me and my two brothers out the door, screaming at us all the way. When we get to the storefront, she hides the well-used spoon and puts on her best smile. We tramp the quarter-mile to the square in a herd, trying not our ruin our fancy clothes that are already stained with sweat. My oldest brother, Zane, just turned 20, so he is forced to the edge of the square with my parents. 18-year-old Reuben and I are herded into our pens, based on age.
When they finally stop shoving us, I look for Katniss; she's about 500 feet to my left. She looks even more nervous than usual, which confuses me until I remember that today is her little sister's first reaping. Prim just turned 12, and Katniss has taken care of her like their mom should have since she was 11, after their dad was killed in the mine explosion. I turn to the stage, count the people. Haymitch, the only surviving Hunger Games winner from our District, has yet to show up. Mayor Undersee is frantically reading the history of Panem, and Effie Trinket is obsessing over the time. They sit and talk until 2 o'clock, when the mayor walks to the podium and starts reading the history of Panem and the Hunger Games. Just as he finishes, Haymitch decides to show up. He's obviously drunk. He stumbles on to the stage, falls into his chair, and tries to give a mortified Effie a hug. Her ridiculous pink wig is now crooked. She manages to get free of Haymitch, and trots up to the podium.
"Happy Hunger Games!" she exclaims, "And may the odds be ever in your favor!" She continues rambling for another couple minutes. I turn and look at Katniss, who is looking forward, probably not at Effie, but at Gale. I face forward just as Effie, as usual, says, "Ladies first!" She walks to the ball with thousands of slips with girls' names. I cross my fingers, hoping that Katniss isn't chosen. She isn't. Primrose Everdeen is the name she calls out. It takes me a moment to realize that Primrose Everdeen is Katniss' little sister.
I look over at Katniss; there's a Seam boy gripping her arm. She must have collapsed. Prim starts to climb up to the platform when I hear Katniss yell her name. She jumps on the stage, pushes Prim away. I hear her say, "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!" the people on stage look baffled, and for good reason. District 12 hasn't had a tribute in a long time, probably a few decades.
Effie starts rambling again, saying how "lovely" it is that she volunteered, but how we're supposed to wait until the tributes are announced first. She trails off, and the mayor says,"What does it matter?" He looks uncomfortable. His only daughter, Madge, hangs out with her sometimes. He repeats, "What does it matter? Let her come forward."
Prim is in hysterics, screaming and gripping Katniss. It takes me a minute to realize that Prim's screams are words. She's yelling "…'niss! No! You can't go!" Katniss is pushing her away, telling her to let go. Gale pulls Prim away, who starts thrashing in his arms. Gale says something unintelligible, and then drags Prim away towards her mom. Katniss climbs the steps up to the platform, where Effie meets her. Katniss tells Effie her name, who figures out that Prim is her sister. She asks for applause. Nobody does. Instead, they use an old gesture sometimes seen at funerals: they touch the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and hold their hand out to her.
And then Haymitch tries to congratulate her. He compliments her, and then starts to taunt the Capital. He takes a step forward, falls off the stage, and knocks himself out. Effie looks even more ridiculous and somewhat traumatized; her pink wig is falling off; most of it is on the right side of her head.
"What an exciting day!" she warbles. "But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!" Effie goes to the boy's reaping ball, grabs a slip, and practically runs back to the podium; she must really want to get this over with. She reads the slip aloud. "Peeta Mellark," is the name on the slip. I'm the male tribute.