Authors Note:

Wow! Thanks for all the responses! Here is chapter one, hope you enjoy it. As always, questions, comments, or suggestions are welcome. R&R please and you'll become my new best friend! And thanks so much to those who were concerned about my brother, he is feeling a little better, which is better than nothing.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

And thanks so much to my beta TheGirlWithTheSilverTongue!

~Bree

Important authors note at the end. Check out my YouTube channel too! I posted a video asking you guys how excited are you for the Hunger Games release?

"'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."

~Alfred Lord Tennyson

Chapter 1: The Reaping

I wake up to find sunlight peaking through the curtains. I turn my head, expecting to find my little sister Prim but only finding emptiness. I look over to my mother's bed, and, sure enough, there she is. Prim doesn't have nightmares often, and even if she did, I would at least wake up and calm her down. But not last night. I didn't hear a sound. Suddenly, a thought occurs.

Today is the day of the reaping.

I stretch, in no rush to begin the day. The reaping isn't until the afternoon, so most people here decide to sleep in. That's luxury not many can afford to pay. Sleeping in means missing work, and that for some could mean no food on the table. I slip on my father's old hunting boots. I can still remember the days we would go into the woods, all the times we would spend together. Many people had respected my father, despite him being from the Seam. When he died, it was a tragedy that struck the whole town.

I dress in a gray shirt and trousers, grabbing my forage bag and a cap. A braid that usually runs down my back is now tucked in. I am about to step out of the room when I hear a hiss. I look down and find that I almost stepped on the world's ugliest cat.

I remember the day when Prim brought him home, how I nearly killed him. But she begged, cried, I had to agree. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for her, and if it means adding a member to the family, then so be it. She named him Buttercup, though I do not see how to the creature before me resembles the flower.

I walk around him and continue. Sitting on the table under a wooden bowl is goat cheese wrapped up in basil leaves. I frown at the thought of Prim waking up to milk her goat just for me. I slip the cheese into my pocket and head outside.

It feels strange not seeing anyone heading to work. I try not to notice how all the doors are locked, the shutters are drawn tight. It only brings back nightmares, but that is little in comparison to having watched the Hunger Games.

I pass several gates until I reach the Meadow. A place that, during summer, has wildflowers growing on every corner. District 12 does not have much beauty to admire, which is what makes everyone believe the Meadow is a treasure. I used to enjoy coming through here, perhaps even resting for a few moments on the soft green grass. But now, it only brings back memories of my father. Memories I cannot afford to deal with at night. I miss him, I really do. But if I try to go back to the past, I will only suffer.

Finally, I reach the fence that separates the woods from District 12. Though they are illegal to enter, many of the guards we call Peacekeepers turn a blind eye. It is one of the few benefits we receive. As long as we meet the Capitol's coal needs, the Capitol leaves us alone. Our citizens have a closer bond, but some merchants still don't trust a few from the Seam. The fence is supposed to be electrified every hour of every day, but due to the fact we get two to three hours of electricity a day, your chances of getting electrocuted are incredibly slim. I gently lie on the ground, already sliding under the wire.

I look around, making sure nobody can see me. Even here, you have to be careful. I then grab a bow and a sheath of arrows from a hollow log. My father crafted each of them with his own hands. He was skilled at many things, but the woods were his territory. He had a connection with nature, something even from someone as close to him as me, can never describe. It was hard to move on, especially after his death. Prim got through it, and my mother, with the help of medication, beat the odds. I don't know if I am over it, or if I have just gotten used to the pain.

It's all because of them, I think, all because of the Capitol.

The Capitol, the ruling city of Panem. The creators of the Hunger Games, a fight to the death on live television. Children between the ages of twelve and eighteen must compete, one boy and one girl from each District. Twelve districts, twenty-four tributes, and only one makes it out alive. The outcome from the uprising that all began with District 12. The Capitol said that as for punishment, they would not harm the rebels, instead, they would harm their children.

The worst part? We are required to watch it, every gruesome death. Sometimes it is too much to handle. We are meant to treat it as a festivity, something to get excited about. And in the Capitol, they do. Nobody is at risk of losing their lives, nobody is fighting starvation there. They have everything.

But we don't. Parents could lose their children, and that pain is the worst kind. My stomach churns at the thought of who will get picked this year. I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. Why worry about what's in store later? I am on my way to a spot that makes me feel safe, that somehow makes me feel whole again. But it isn't just the sight of it, it is the sight of a person, the sight of my best friend that lets me relax. When I see him, I smile.

"Hey, Catnip," says Gale, waving a free hand. It's what he calls me, despite the fact that my name is Katniss. When we first met, he asked me what my name was, and though I said Katniss, it was barely audible. Then, when a lynx began to follow me around looking for handouts, it became his nickname for me.

Gale is someone I confide in, someone that feels the same pain I do from my past. He is my equal, my best friend. But even with him, I haven't shared a secret that I've hidden for many years. I do not know how he would react if I told him I was in love with a merchant's son.

"Check out what I shot," he says

From behind his back, he pulls out a loaf of bread with an arrow stuck in it. I laugh, reaching for it. I take out the arrow and hold the bread, inhaling the sweet aroma. It's real bakery bread, something that takes a while to earn when hunting. I wonder what it took for the baker to trade.

"What did it cost you?" I ask. When he answers with just a squirrel, I am surprised. But then, I realize everyone will be a little generous today. I think of Gale waking up early, having to hunt in the woods when it is still dark out. The thought used to make me feel bad, but since we both work equally nowadays, it hasn't resurfaced in a while.

"He even wished me luck," says Gale, "must have been feeling softhearted today."

"I guess," I shrug, "Prim left us cheese." I hold it out, and it doesn't take long for the smile to reach his lips.

We talk for a few minutes, eating the berries from the bush as well. I wish every day could be like this. The woods, though dangerous, are beautiful. The valley is full of summer life. Trees featuring the greenest leaves, the sound of water rushing through the creek, the sun shining above. Everything about this place is its own treasure. I lay down for a few moments, taking in the cool breeze, the soft grass. Even if it is just for a moment, one moment is all I will ever need to relax. I open my eyes to find Gale smiling.

There isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish he were my brother. We could be siblings, or even cousins. We both have the Seam look, straight jet black hair, light skin, even the usual gray eyes that you see on nearly every face in the Seam. Though my mother and Prim are comfortable living here, they always seem to appear out of place. Their blonde hair, blue eyes, they are supposed to be living in town amongst the merchants. Hardly anyone could believe my mother left her town life for the Seam, for my father. But it happened, they fell in love. And when he died, a part of her died as well.

We were terrified. I tried to keep the family running smoothly, but it did not work. They only gave us a certain amount of money to help cover a month in which my mother was supposed to get a job. But she never left her room. It was as if only the sound or sight of my father could bring her back. We were nearly starving, and yet she did nothing about it. I do not hate her, I don't think I ever could. I have still yet to forgive her though, and I try to. Even for my father's sake, I try to act kind towards her. But I was never the forgiving type, and I don't think I ever will be.

I snap out of my thoughts by Gale's voice. "What?" I ask, and when he rolls his eyes, my expression hardens, "I didn't hear you," I say.

"You and I, Katniss, we could do it," says Gale, not meeting my eyes.

"What are you talking about?" I ask him.

"Run off. Live in the woods. We know how to survive. You and me, we could make it," says Gale, his voice barely more than a whisper.

I try to speak up, but no words come out. I do not know how to respond to what he just proposed. The idea never crossed my mind before. I think of it, and try not to show my opinion. Would we leave behind our families? Gale must know I would never agree to anything that left out my family, they would always come first. And even then, I still might say no. I'd also be leaving someone else behind, someone who's as important to me as Prim.

"Of course, if we didn't have so many kids," he adds, and I nod in agreement.

They are not ours, but they might as well be. Prim, as well as Gale's two

younger brothers and sister – Rory, Vick and Posy. We take care of them. In some odd way, we've formed a family, one whose bond can overcome anything. Then, I think of our mothers, because without us, how would they have food? Without us, they wouldn't survive.

"I don't want to have kids." I say

"I don't know. Maybe I would, if I didn't live here."

"But you do," I retort. There is no way around the reaping. His children's names would go in just like everyone else's. How could he, or anyone, take that risk? How could he put an innocent child's life in danger? The Capitol doesn't grant mercy to anyone, no matter what age or condition. They are true monsters.

"Fine! Forget I ever said anything," he snaps, already getting up. He flushes, his face angry. At least he is upset here, I think. Better for everyone he takes his anger out while hunting than on others.

I follow him, hoping he calms down soon. Gale has gone on rants before, how unfair the Capitol is, how we get no justice. It does no good though. It doesn't get any food on the table, it doesn't change the fact that every year twenty-four children are tossed in arena to fight to the death with only one coming out. But still, he is right. I do not doubt that.

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts, right now, it is time to hunt.

The rest of the day passes fairly quickly. We have a dozen fish, have a bag full of greens, and a gallon of strawberries to sell or trade. We stop by the Hob, a place that used to be an abandoned warehouse but is now a black market where we make most of our money. We finish quickly, trading several of the fish for salt and bread and selling the greens to an old woman named Greasy Sae who gives us a couple chunks of paraffin. Here at the hob she usually sells bowls of soup made in a large kettle. She has a granddaughter, I remember, but I haven't seen her lately.

We stop by the mayor's house as well, selling him the strawberries for a good price. His daughter, Madge Undersee, hands us the money and wishes us both good luck. Unlike many of those who live in town, Madge isn't one to brag. We both don't really do well with the crowds, and since we don't have our own group of friends, we end up pairing up at school for many things. Though we hardly talk, it is nice to have company.

Gale and I split up the profit, as well as the food. I wave goodbye, "See you in the square," I say.

"Wear something pretty," he says, already heading towards his home.

I walk in, noticing Prim and my mother are dressed and ready to go. My mother is wearing a dress from her apothecary days, while Prim is in my first reaping outfit. Pins have made it stay, the skirt and blouse a little too big for her. I head to the bathroom and get in the tub, washing off all the dirt until I am clean. When I step out, I find that an outfit has already been laid. I recognize it being one of my mother's.

Her dresses are special to her, and I will feel terrible if I damage it somehow. "Are you sure about this?" I ask her, trying to keep my tone even.

"It's fine Katniss," she smiles at me, but I nod, "Let's put your hair up too," She towel-dries it and braids it up on my head. When I look at myself in the cracked mirror, I can hardly recognize me.

"You look so pretty," says Prim, smiling.

"For now," I say, and she laughs lightly. But even under that, I can tell she is nervous. It is her first reaping, and though she only has one entry, it is always the hardest to overcome. I didn't let her take out any tesserae, no matter how hard she pleaded.

One tesserae is worth a year's supply of oil and grain for one person. If you enter your name more than once, you will receive it. When I was twelve, I had my name entered four times. I took out one for myself, for Prim, and my mother, and the other one because it is a requirement. It is just the Capitol's way of punishing us. Those who don't need it have a slim chance of getting pick, while those battling starvation have a bigger chance.

I take her in my arms, hoping she will not cry. "Prim, it's your first year, your name's only in there once," I say gently, "they're not going to pick you,"

"What about you?" she asks, and I shake my head.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," I say, then see that her blouse is pulled out of her skirt in the back. I smile, "Go tuck your tail in, little duck," I say, releasing her.

Prim smiles a little, but tears are still threatening to spill, "Quack," she says, and I laugh.

"Quack yourself," I say, taking her hand, "Let's eat before we leave."

Though the fish and greens are already cooking in a stew, we decide that will be for later, including the bakery bread and strawberries. We eat the bread make from our grain rations and drink the milk from Prim's goat. Nobody is hungry, so we start heading for the square.

When we arrive, I take in our surroundings. Cameras are everywhere, on the roof, in the streets, you name it. Everyone makes one line and signs in. We are separated into our age groups, eighteen year olds in the front while the twelve year olds fill up the back. I turn to find Prim, who gives me a small smile. My sister will now be eligible to enter the Games. I cannot quite grasp the thought.

How can they do this? I ask myself, how can they be so cold-hearted that they make innocent kids get killed in front of the whole country? And still, I have no answer.

Family members are huddled together, lined up around the perimeter. I see some praying, and some already beginning to cry. My stomach tightens. There are others who don't care, who have nobody they love at stake. Some of those people even make bets on who will get picked. Just like the Capitol citizens, they see it as a game.

I am standing with a group of sixteen year olds from the Seam, who all appear to be nervous. We exchange nods, sometimes even just a glance. My attention focuses on the stage that has been set up for this year's reaping. A podium with a microphone is already standing, three chairs already have been laid out and worst of all, two enormous glass bowls, resting on either side of the podium. One for the boys, one for the girls.

Mayor Undersee is sitting in one of the chairs, as well as Effie Trinket, the Capitol escort, who is too cheery, too perky for someone like me to enjoy her company. They talk softly, already worrying over the missing guest. I turn to Gale just before the clock strikes two and mouth, "Good luck."

He mouths something back, but I am unable to make it out. Before I know it, the mayor steps up to the podium and begins to read the same story, year after year. I've heard it enough times to memorize it. How the nation of Panem began. The country that rose from the ashes of a place once known as North America, which was nearly destroyed along with the rest of the world.

The result was Panem, the shining Capitol surrounded by thirteen outlying districts. It was supposed to bring peace, prosperity and equal rights to its citizens. But those in the districts got greedy, and they brought on another war. The Dark Days, as they call it, was when we rebelled against the Capitol. The districts had been defeated, the thirteenth was wiped off the map. As punishment for the uprising, the Hunger Games began.

From there, he mayor reads District 12's past victors. In seventy-four years, we've had only two. District 12 is somewhat the laughingstock of Panem. Our tributes, even the ones who stand a chance, never win. And the only victor who is still alive is a reason why. Haymitch Abernathy appears, yelling something we can't quite make out, then plops onto the third seat. I see Effie Trinket shift uncomfortably in her seat.

Mayor Undersee turns to Haymitch, giving his head a quick shake. He then introduces Effie Trinket, who is already smiling broadly. She bounces up to the podium and says her signature slogan, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"

She talks about what an honor it is to be here, though everyone can see she is hoping to get promoted to a better district.

I find Gale and smile. The Capitol accent is strange, but it's really is fun to mimic. But too soon, I snap back to reality and realize it is time to choose the girl tribute. I take a deep breath as Effie says, "Ladies first!"

She sticks her hand into the glass bowl, searching for a few moments until she finally pulls out a slip. I pray silently, over and over that it is not me. Effie Trinket heads back to the podium, smiling. She reads the name out in a clear voice, and though it is not me, I cannot breathe.

It's Primrose Everdeen.

I cannot breathe. My mind tries to sort everything out, analyzing the situation, trying to react. But I don't move. My knees begin to crumble, and I feel an arm grab me in time before I fall. I cannot believe this. Prim should never have been called. One slip, she only had one slip. It did not matter though. She has been called. My mind finally registers the thought, she will be going into the Hunger Games.

I see her now, waking towards the stage, fists clenched, trying to fight the tears. It is when I see the back of her blouse is untucked once more, the ducktail. I stand up and run after her before I know it. "Prim!" I yell, afraid nobody will be able to hear me.

The crowd forms a clear path for me to run through. I yell her name again, though louder, the pain is obvious. "Prim!" I finally reach her just when she is about to head up the steps. In one swift motion, I swing my arm, and push her back.

"I volunteer!" I say, my voice cracking, "I volunteer as tribute!"

Everyone looks at me like I'm about to commit suicide. We haven't had a volunteer in ages, so nobody really knows the procedure. But if a girl's name is called, someone else can volunteer to take their place. Same with when a boy tribute is called. Effie looks at me, her face brightening, "Wonderful! But dear, I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers. If one does wish to, then we..." she trails off, not sure of what is next.

"Let her come forth! What does it matter?" Mayor Undersee sees me, a pained expression registering on his face. We don't know each other that well, but he recognizes me, and he feels pity.

"Katniss no! Please don't go!" screams Prim, her arms wrapped around me, refusing to surrender.

"Prim, let go!" I snap. I am trying hard not to cry, trying to avoid her gaze. If I do shed even a single tear, the others will mark me as an easy target when the reapings air on television tonight, "Let go!"

I feel her arms loosen and find that Gale is holding Prim, who is trying to fight his grip, "Up you go, Catnip," Though it doesn't sound like it, I can see he is fighting to keep his tone even. The hurt in his eyes is unmistakable.

"Bravo! This is the spirit of the Games," she gestures towards me, "What is your name young lady?"

"Katniss Everdeen," I say, trying to relax.

"I bet my buttons that was your sister! Don't want her to steal all the glory, hmm?" She doesn't give me a chance to respond, which I am grateful for, "Ladies and gentlemen, let's give a hand to our newest tribute!"

Nobody claps, the whole square is completely silent. That is when something unexpected happens. One by one, the crowd touvhes the three middle fingers of thier left hand to their lips and hold it out to me. I have not seen the gesture in a while, but I know it is hardly used. It is meant to say thanks, admiration, even good-bye to someone you love.

I try not to stare at the screen because tears are threatening to spill. Thankfully, Haymitch picks this time to come congratulate me. "Look at this one! I like her! Lot's of..." he tries to find the correct words, "Spunk!" He throws an arm around my shoulders, and I try not to throw up. He smells as though he hasn't showered for days, and his breath reeks. Finally, he lets go and points to the camera. "More than you!" He shouts, "More than you!"

I do not know if he is telling the audience, or even the Capitol. But I will not find out anytime soon, because when he is going to continue, he falls off the stage, knocking himself out. Soon, he is put on a stretcher and taken away from view. Effie smiles, then walks back to the stage.

"How exciting! But there is more to come! The moment you have been waiting for! It's time to choose our boy tribute!" She walks over to the other glass bowl and searches through the names, finally picking one. Effie heads over to the podium, and says a name of a person that I would possibly walk through fire for.

"Peeta Mellark!" shouts Effie, smiling.

I see him as he walks up to the stage, shining blue eyes that now show no emotion, dark blonde hair with a strong build from all the years of working in the bakery. The mayor steps in once more, already beginning to read the Treaty of Treason, but of course, I do not hear a single thing. I turn towards Peeta, who appears as though he is in deep thought. Why him? I think, Anybody else...

My mind fast forwards to the arena, already beginning to plan ahead. I know that even if I survive the first day, which is unlikely, I could never kill Peeta. It doesn't matter if we were the last two tributes standing. It would be as if telling me to kill Prim, my mother, even Gale. Impossible. I know Prim and my mother would be devastated, but they do not know. Nobody does. I can almost hear Gale's voice if that were to happen. Katniss, what is wrong with you? Kill him already, you have no other choice! It's either you or him that will come home!

I shake my head, the odds are definitely not in my favor today. He looks up at me, our eyes meeting. I drop my gaze, my expression hardening. I will not be a contender, though, when faced with the other tributes, those who've trained their whole lives for the Games. I will not stand a chance. I hate having to imagine Prim turn away from the screen at the sight of my death. Before she knows it, before anyone knows it, I will be gone.

But Peeta Mellark... he deserves to live. He deserves to be happy, to actually be able to enjoy his life. To be able to breathe when this is all over. He just has to make it out. I do not even want to picture him returning home, but in a coffin. I will be consumed with guilt if he doesn't. Or even worse, if he dies before I do. Though the chances are slim, anything could happen. I mean, my own sister, who had just one entry, had been called. This goes to show that anything could happen with the Hunger Games. And besides, he has helped me throughout the years. He kept me alive once...

The first time we talked was when we were younger, when we first began school. He promised he would stand up for me if I was ever to get picked on again. It was that promise that made me feel safe. Besides my father, I never really felt that someone actually cared. It was those simple words that made me fall for him.

The second was right after my fathers death. We were slowly dying, my whole family. My mother left us behind, leaving Prim and me to fend for ourselves. Nobody became suspicious of us, nobody noticed. Except for Peeta Mellark. The hollowness in our cheekbones, the way you could see our ribs when we breathed in, the emptiness in our eyes. We were suffering, and he knew it. He followed me after school one day, calling my name mulitple times, but I did not stop until we entered the Seam.

He didn't say a word, but our eyes met, and I could tell he was genuinely sorry. He handed me a small note, already walking away.

Please tell me if you two need help. You don't have to go through this alone.

It was that note that kept me going for the next few weeks. But one day, it became too much. I was too weak, and one day, I nearly collapsed. I fell in front of their pig's pen, trying to fight back the tears. He was watching me the whole time from behind the counter, shaking his head. There were two loaves of bread he had burnt, and for that, he took a beating. His mother glared at him as he came outside to feed it to the pigs, but soon directed her attention to the customer.

I could never imagine my parents hitting us, but there he was, a red mark on his face. Suddenly, he double-checked, making sure she wasn't looking, and before I knew it, the loaves were at my feet. He hurried inside, shutting the door behind me. It were those loaves that kept my family and me going, just like that small note, just like those two words, "I promise." That was all it took for me to know that things could get better. That was all it took to make me believe.

He was true to his word. When we were fourteen, another merchant kid had been talking trash about me, though I had no idea why. It wasn't until a crowd started forming that I realized there was trouble. Peeta had hit him for saying that. When they seperated them, our eyes met, and I mouthed the only words I could think of, thank you.

Though we had never really talked, though we hardly knew each other, Peeta Mellark has helped me throughout the years. He kept me alive, kept me going more than once...

And now it is time for me to return the favor.

authors note: What did you think? As always, comments, questions, or suggestions are welcome! Review please!

~Bree

FAQs: Note that I can't replace chapters for some reason. I've tried but it always says error something and tells me to log in. I've tried nearly anything, but I can't get it. So sorry if you thought it was an update.

And to answer a question that with just the first chapter 6 people have already PMd: will There by the usual love triangle between Katniss, Peeta, and Gale?

To those who have read this story before, I posted it one time, don't know if you remember. So here it is again, I am not that big of a fan at Gale, and just like The Hunger Games I will only stick to Katniss' point of view. If I choose to write a sequel (could be a possibility because I already have the whole story planned out) then maybe, but right now, the answer is no.

Does Peeta love her back?

To say that would be like to read the back of a novel first! Sorry cant answer right now!

Does Katniss have any feelings for Gale?

He is her best friend at this point, so for now, no. She's only ever thought of Peeta that way.

Will Katniss be OOC at times?

Very few moments where she will be, but they will be there. Remember, she loves peeta so that changed her in a few ways but not completely.