Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or any of the characters.
Part One: The tributes
Chapter One
I wake up at the same time every morning for the same reason. To see Katniss leave towards the woods. It's like a timed system, I've gotten so used to it that I wake up automatically.
Slowly I sit up and see my two brothers and my mother fast asleep. My father is always up early to work in the bakery. They don't understand why I do it and they never will. I feel fear creep it's way into my body. Today is no ordinary day. This is the day of the reaping.
I fling my legs off the bed and put on a clean white shirt and black pants. I pull on a pair of shoes and make my way down the stairs, trying not to wake anyone. The part of District 12 were in is nicknamed the Seam. On an ordinary day men and women for all places slowly make their way to the coal mines. But today the streets are empty, blinds are shut tight. The reaping isn't until two so you may as well sleep in. Most people can't though, most too frightened by nightmares of upcoming events. I don't blame them.
I look out the window in anticipation of seeing her. She never misses a hunting day, not even on a day like today. And then I see her, in her hunting gear and her long braid swaying back and fourth. I've liked her for as long as I can remember. She doesn't even know my existence. She is almost at the fence now. The fence surrounding district 12 is supposed to be electrified 24 hours a day, but everyday when she passes it I know it isn't.
When she has disappeared from my sight, I leave the window and sigh. I know that we will never be together. It's most likely Katniss and Gale will get married, see as how much time they spend together hunting. I sigh again and walk into my family bakery.
My family owns the bakery, so I spend a lot of time baking and decorating the cakes. It's become a passion of mine to paint the cakes to put in the shop, it helps me concentration on other things. I can hear everyone start to get up. I don't mind my family, its my mom who bugs me. She is an abusive mother and always has been, something is quite wrong with her but if something happened to her I would still care.
As I walk into the bakery and my fathers head jerks up quickly. He flag me a smile, but it quickly fades. He knows just as well what today brings.
"That Hawthorn kid came in today, traded me a squirrel for a loaf of bread." he says, not looking me in the eyes. My hands clench into fists. He knows I don't like Gale, but we can't really stop him from trading, plus it's nice to get meat for once.
"That doesn't sound like a very good trade." I say. It really wasn't, but since today it's the reaping I guess I understand, it's my mother who won't. She doesn't like the squirrels , or it's just Katniss or Gale she doesn't like.
"I know, but I felt sentimental this morning. I even wish the poor boy luck." he says finally looking at me.
I hold my fathers stare, but quickly drop it when my mother and two older brothers, Bret and Gene come in. Bret is 20 and Gene is 18 so Gene is still eligible for the reaping. His nervousness shows, you can tell he tries to hide it but clearly it isn't working. He shakes all over his body, it would be horrible to be so close to not be picked anymore and then get picked on your final day. It's highly unlikely that he will get picked though, there are thousands of names in there. It's mostly from people who have taken tesserae, luckily enough I don't need to take it. But it makes me nervous for Katniss, she has taken it every year for her family. She has taken on the mother role towards Prim ever since the mine explosion. I hate her mother for just leaving them to fend for themselves, she has died inside.
"Happy Hunger Games!" Bret say enthusiastically. I know he is just trying to dull the tension, but it is only making things worse. My mother gives him a warning look and immediately he stops. We all know better than to tick off mom.
We all get to work at once. There isn't much work to do today though, just a few people come in and ask for bread. By the time the last person comes in it is time to get ready for the reaping.
Me and Gene walk up the stairs in silence. There is nothing to say, no words can describe our fear. When we enter the bedroom both our beds have clothing laid out. We both walk over to ours beds and start to change. I pull on a light blue formal shirt, light brown formal pants and black shoes. It's our reaping gear. By now the fear is even more real. I don't feel fear for myself as Gene does, but I feel fear for Katniss. Her name has to be in there at least 20 or more times. I feel a surge of pain in my heart, but I just try and ignore it.
We both walk downstairs again. I can smell the meat from the squirrel cooking, but that will be for our dinner. Instead we have some stale bread from the day before. I'm not very hungry and the stale bread tastes horrible in my mouth. It gets stuck in my throat and it takes all the spit I have for it to go down. We have stale bread almost every day, once in a blue moon we will have fresh.
At one o'clock, we all head to the square. Attendance is mandatory, unless you're dying. Peacekeepers come and check to see.
The square has all the shops, so it isn't too bad. There are camera crew perched everywhere to capture all the reactions.
Everyone files silently and sign in. I try to look for Katniss, but she either isn't here yet or she is but I just can't see her. There are marked off areas for age. The oldest are in the front and the youngest are in the back. This year Katniss' sister, Prim will be included into the reaping. I'm not worried about her though, only Katniss. I watch my family line up around the perimeter. Most people are there for the ones they love, but some people are there just to place bets on kids. It's disgusting.
I go and stand in the sixteen year old section and watch as the space gets smaller and smaller. The square is large, but not large enough to hold the entire population of district 12. I wait silently for it all to begin, but I keep trying to find Katniss. I'm unsuccessful.
On the stage there are three chairs, two of them are filled by the Mayor and Effie Trinket. She quite creeps me out, she is the district 12 escort and has a pinkish hair.
When the clock strikes two, the mayor steps up to the microphone to deliver the same speech he does every year. He tells of the dark days and how the games were formed.
The rules are simple. It's a punishment for the uprising years ago, each district one from twelve are required to provide one boy and one girl form the ages of 12 to 18 to participate in a fight to the death. The last tribute standing wins.
It's sicking what the capitol does. They take our kids an make us watch as they fight to the death. The stupid uprising. They took district 13 what more do they want? To make matter worse they make the hunger games a sport. Making all the districts pin themselves against each other. The last tribute gets life of ease and their district will get prizes, mostly food.
In the whole seventy-four years of the games district 12 has only had two victors and only one is still alive. Haymitch Abernathy, a middle aged man who is always drunk. He wobbles onto the stage and staggers into the third chair. He is even more drunk than usual.
The mayor says a few final words of encouragement and gestures Effie to come up. She trots up to the microphone as bubbly as ever and says her famous quote, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" after that she just goes on and on about how happy she is to be here and what an honor it is to be our escort. We all know it's an act, she really wants a better district. Who would ever want our crummy district?
I spot Gene up ahead. He still shakes, but not as bad as this morning. I hope he doesn't get picked. He has more names in there than I do, but even though he is my brother I'm still worried about Katniss.
It's time for Effie to draw the names. "Ladies first!" she says as she crosses over to the glass ball with the girls names. Please don't let it be Katniss, anyone else will be better. Just not her. She reaches in and digs her hand into the bowl, swiftly grabbing a single slip of paper that contains the tribute girls name. I feel sick. It's not going to be Katniss, it can't be.
Effie crosses back to the microphone, slip in hand and smooths out the paper and in a clear voice reads out the name. I was right it isn't Katniss. Relief fills me until I hear her name ringing in my ears.
It's Primrose Everdeen.
