Chapter One: The odds in my favor
Ladies always go first. Trinket's voice terrifies me. "It's my fourth reaping. There are only three pieces of paper with my name written in the reaping bowl. I'm the mayor's daughter. It can't be me." I try to remind myself that I'm safe and sound, that the odds are completely in my favour. However, I get ready to hear Madge Undersee when Effie Trinket catches a piece of paper from the reaping bowl. She raises it and reads it out loud.
My heart stops as soon as I hear the name, skipping through Effie Trinket's lips.
"Primrose Everdeen!" she shouts to the microphone, amplifying the sound, making it bump into my brain.
I can't believe it. No, it can't be true. Primrose Everdeen is just twelve. And she's the little sister of the only person whom I can call my friend.
Katniss is a few meters away from me, shocked, freezed. Peacekeepers take Primrose to the scenery without any ceremony. I can remember her clothes, wore by a younger Katniss a few years ago. The shirt lies out of the skirt, and her two blonde braids fly over her back with every step. Primrose turns back, in order to see Katniss, and start screaming. "No! NO! No, please, no!" her shriek of pain crosses the air and hits Katniss.
My only friend steps forward and pronounces the words that nobody ever dared to pronounce in our district. "I volunteer!" she makes her way through the crowd, shoving away every single girl that tries to stop her "I volunteer as tribute!"
I don't know if there's a special procedure when volunteering, but I'm pretty sure Katniss' behaviour is not correct.
She has just volunteered for her sister. Brave, strong, single-minded Katniss. I bet I won't see my friend again.
Even if it's heartbreaking, I know I can deal with the pain. Loosing somebody in the Hunger Games is not unknown in my family. I have heard about my aunt Maysilee since my very early days. She died twenty-four years ago, in the 50th Hunger Games. She owned the golden mockingjay pin that rests in my chest today. Well, the odds were in my favor today, not in Katniss'.
Effie Trinket asks for a big applause to our very first volunteer. Nobody claps, not a single person, not the children who live in the Seam, neither the wealthiest town people. In response, we raise our three middle fingers of our left hand, press them against our lips and held up our left arm. It's an old tradition in twelve. Not only it means goodbye, but respect as well. The Peacekeepers seem quite upset.
As always, after the girls there come the boys. May I sound unkind, but I don't care a lot about that part of the reaping. Most part of the boys had bullied me in my childhood for being the mayor's daughter. The rest are nowadays trying to chat up with me, saying disrespectful things when we cross in the corridors of the school.
The chosen one is Peeta Mellark, the youngest son of the baker. I've barely talked to him in my whole life, but he's in my class, so I feel sorry. It's likely that we'll have two students less in my class in three weeks.
As soon as the reaping finishes, I search for my father, Greg Undersee, mayor of District 12 and the person I feel more attached to. There are three main things we love doing together. First of all, we both enjoy taking care of my mother. Secondly, we are really fond of old theatre plays. And finally, strawberries are our deepest weakness.
He wraps me with his arms, making me feel comfortable, happy and safe. Then I remember about the strawberries, and about how Katniss' brings them every two weeks during the properly season.
"Dad" I dare to ask "Do you think I can say goodbye to Katniss?"
"You ready to say goodbye, honey?" he answers, giving me another question I can hardly give a response.
Of course I'm not ready. Saying farewell to your only friend is not easy. But I must be strong. The last thing Katniss needs is a weeping girl stepping into a friendless room in the Justice Building.
My goodbye is short and complicated. I consider Katniss my friend, but we hardly talk to each other out from school. I give her my aunt's old-fashioned mockingjay pin. It means a lot to me, but with that last present I hope she can forgive me for not being the best friend ever. And it's my way to say thank you for all the years of silent friendship. And also for the strawberries.
When I walk out from the goodbye-room, I step into Katniss real best friend. Gale Hawthorne is a tall, strong Seam boy who usually hangs out with Katniss in their free time. Sometimes he's the one that sells the strawberries to Dad. However, I don't like it.
I stare at him for a while. I don't like his forever-frowned expression. I don't like the way he feels superior. And of course I disliked the way he behaved this morning, blaming on me, as if I was the creator of the games, or the Head Gamemaker.
I go downstairs without even saying goodbye. Now I'm realising how real it is. How Katniss is going to be thrown to the arena. And how badly hurt I will feel.
I regret a lot of things. I should have said goodbye. I should have told her that I'll miss her. I should have assured her that I am a friend.