76th Hunger Games
Chapter 1: Reaping Day
Katniss

I wake up today eager as I am every Sunday, to be released from my hectic world and troubled past and forget about all the stupid love problems I still have yet to sort out in my life. This is what hunting with Gale is to me. And on really good days, my time with Gale can even resemble the memories of us hunting before I was caught in the horrible misfortune of the Hunger Games. I can forget for a little while, Gale's good at hiding the truth of where we are in his attitude. Sometimes he even makes me happy. Like the good old days.

But not today. Today's reaping day. And as I predicted, it is no better than any reaping day when I was in that stupid glass bowl in Effie Trinket's hand. In fact, it's much, much worse. Today I will discover which two kids I will be mentoring to victory or death- most likely the latter- along with my fellow victor and fiancé, Peeta Mellark.

Ah, Peeta. My star-crossed lover from district twelve. If it weren't for him I would surely be dead, and that's not just because he helped me steal money from rich capital sponsors in the arena. It started way back when we were eleven. And since then, I've never stopped owing him.

I stumble into one of the expensive dresses from the capital hung in my closet, and brush through the tangles in my hair that come after a sleepless night. Across the hall, my sister Prim is still in bed, and to my surprise, appears to actually be sleeping. I'm usually not the only one struggling from nightmares on the night before the reaping.

Downstairs I find that my mother has made me breakfast, which is hardly necessary, since in a few hours, I'll be boarding the train to the capital, which is stocked with more food than you see in a year in District Twelve. Still, I sit down at the kitchen table, and am about to take a bite out of my toast, when I hear rapid knocking on the front door.

"Rise and shine! We've got a busy, busy day today!" Effie's voice trills from my front porch. I open the door to find that she has already collected Peeta, who is standing right beside her. "Good to see you again Katniss!" Effie perks as she gives me a one-arm hug- her other arm is occupied holding the clipboard with today's schedule.

"Hi Effie," I say before turning toward Peeta "Hey."

"Hey Katniss" Peeta says kissing me lightly "So, how did you sleep last night?"

"Wonderful as usual." I say sarcastically.
Peeta laughs, wrapping his hand around mine as we walk down the steps of my porch. We are both well aware of the camera crews wondering around on reaping day, so we have to appear madly in love at all times. But truthfully, I don't mind Peeta's warm hand holding mine, and am secretly thankful for the cameras. At least some of the time. The three of us walk down the streets of Victor's Village, toward Haymitch's house. Getting him up and ready for the day will be a real challenge. When we reach his front door, we go straight in, knowing darn well that Haymitch will never come to the door if we knock. To our surprise, Haymitch is already up and dressed, although still hungover, as usual. Fortunately for the future tributes of District Twelve, after me and Peeta won the games, we took his place as mentor. Haymitch no longer has to make an annual trip to the capital for the hunger games but, to his displeasure, is still required to attend the reaping. And, judging by the state he's in, he's going to need some help getting there.

After some struggles, the three of us get Haymitch to the town square, which- although now is deserted- in an hour, will be filled with all of the citizens of District Twelve. Effie coaches us briefly on our entrance. But mostly, she uses this time to give us tips on mentoring. She gives us an idea of what to expect from the new tributes, as if we don't already know enough about how their feeling. Effie tells us to ramble on about how wonderful the capital is, and how excited we are to be mentors, but I don't think I'll be fooling anyone.

Despite the fact that the sun is beating down in the town square of District Twelve, there is a dark and dreary feeling inside of me. And, judging by the faces of the children arriving in the square, I'm not the only one who's feeling this.

Emberlyn
I lie in bed until no earlier than one in the afternoon, as I do on every reaping day. I'm not sleeping, of course. Just laying there deep in thought. I used to like to guess who would be picked, but coming from the Seam, where almost everyone signs up for tesserae, it became too painful to admit to myself that the tribute will probably be one of us. This year, at the age of 15, having signed up for tesserae for my family of four every year, my name's been entered exactly 20 times. But for some reason I always find myself more angry than nervous on reaping day. For me, it's more painful to see who's been sentenced to death, then to worry that the slip chosen has "Emberlyn Coyle" written on it. Even if I was chosen at the reaping, I could never imagine myself traveling to the Capitol and fighting 23 other kids in an arena... As far as I'm concerned I would be more likely to kill myself on the train there.

But that's beyond my worries. Because unlike most kids my age, I don't spend my life freaking out about the Hunger Games. In fact, most years I don't even bother watching them on television. With the exception of the last two years... the star-crossed lovers from district twelve fascinate me. If there's one good thing I would get out of being district twelve's tribute this year, it would be having Katniss Everdeen- I mean Mellark- as my mentor. I'm curious as to whether she is anywhere near as fake in person as she is in public.
I used to know Katniss's face from around the neighborhood when she used to live in the seam. My mother bought her meat a few times. As for Peeta, I never knew who he was before he was reaped, so I can't exactly witness whether he's had a crush on Katniss for as long as he says... I wouldn't doubt him, though, judging by the way he looks at her.

I leave our house promptly at 1:30, and head for the town square; my mother, younger brother and sister following me. The kids are only 10, not yet entered in the reaping, but are shaking from the fear of their big sister being chosen. In situations like this, I usually push them to be stronger people, and tell them to toughen up, but deep down, I feel very protective of them. And that's why in two years, neither of them will be signing up for any tesserae. Not while I'm still alive.

There's a dark, depressing feeling in the crowd as I push through, making my way to the 15-year-olds. As I find my spot, I catch a glimpse of a girl behind me, in tears. I know her from the seam, but she doesn't live there anymore. She lives with her sister in Victor's Village. I can't blame Prim for being so nervous. Even though her name is only in three times, the capital has a tendency of purposely picking tributes to make the show more interesting. And what's more interesting than Katniss having to mentor her own sister? Anyone can see that the odds are not in Prim's favor this reaping.

By 2:00, the mayor and the past victors have seated themselves. Effie Trinket emerges from behind the stage, and wishes everyone a "Happy Hunger Games" as usual. She beams as she says

"May the odds be ever in your favor", clearly proud of her overly obnoxious capitol accent. She talks briefly about the history of Panem, and the "terrible" war. She uses many of the same foolish excuses for the capitol's cruelty toward the districts. And, as usual, Effie is completely unaware of the crowd's lack of interest toward what she or President Snow has to say. Finally out of nowhere, Effie's face perks up.

"Now, for the moment we've all been waiting for! The reaping of our boy and girl tributes representing district twelve in the 76th Hunger Games!" Effie clicks her six-inch heels and as she walks toward the bowl of girl slips.

"Ladies first!" she exclaims as if that's some sort of surprise to us. All of the thoughts running through my head of hatred- and in this case, annoyance- toward the capitol are interrupted by the sound of Effie's voice ringing "Emberlyn Coyle" into the microphone.

The girl standing next to me has to nudge me in the shoulder before I realize she means me.

Gale
Even though I'm standing in the very back with the adults, I can get a glimpse of the girl walking up to the stage, moving forward only a few inches with each step. Effie is clearly irritated, as she urges the girl to move faster. Finally, the district twelve tribute is standing on the platform, just beside where the mentors are seated. Katniss, who has been avoiding eye contact with me the entire reaping, stares at the ground. After congratulating the girl tribute, Effie turns back to the audience.

"Now for our boy tribute!" Effie says making her way to the large glass bowl. She reaches her arm in and tosses around a few slips with her hand before pulling one out and reading the name loud and clear. As soon as she has read it my heart stops beating. I can see that Katniss's dark grey eyes have found me now, filled with sympathy. I stare at her back, helplessly. I want to stop, to look away, but I'm afraid that if I do, the next person my eyes will find is the little boy making his way up the stairs in tears. My little brother, Rory.

Before I can stop worrying, I'm distracted by another thought. And once it crosses my head, I can't stop thinking about it. First my fists start shaking and then my entire arm. People around me have started to stare, but I don't care. My whole body is trembling with fury by the time I can make clear of what I want so bad. I want the see pain in the eyes of the capitol citizens, the death of President Snow, the end of the Hunger Games for good. I want to fight. And there's nothing stopping me from getting what I want. A rebellion.

Katniss
Peeta squeezes my hand repeatedly, trying to bring me back to reality. But my eyes are lost in the crowd of people before us, as I stare desperately at Gale, trying to decide what to make of the situation. Rory now stands beside me crying like the helpless twelve year old that my sister, Prim, was only two years ago. Only Rory has no older brother to volunteer for him, as Gale is too old. I feel a sudden need to protect him when Gale can't, as if it's my duty to keep him alive in these horrible games.

But how? I can only help him to a certain extent as his mentor. In fact, I'm not even his mentor, Peeta is. And Peeta certainly wouldn't approve of me risking my life to help a tribute. I frown as I try to think of something I can do. When Peeta notices the distressed state I'm in, he squeezes my hand again. I'm wishing I could hear his comforting voice, but we both know he can't say anything to me now. Not while the cameras are around. Rory finally pulls himself together when the two tributes shake hands. Rory's eyes are still puffy, while the girl, Emberlyn's face is expressionless. Then Effie guides them into the Justice Building before turning around back to Peeta, Haymitch and I.
"Well, on the train you two go!" She perks, gesturing for us to get a move on, and then turns to Haymitch. "And you, go home!"
"Amen!" Haymitch shouts, clearly pleased with himself having retired from his position as mentor.
We wait on the train in silence, and I can't help but glance over at the justice building through the window. Gale and his family are probably in there right now, saying goodbye to Rory. The thought of it makes me want to cry. But, of course, I don't. Effie arrives only to tell us the tributes will be boarding the train in a few minutes. She instructs us to meet up with our tribute, first get to know them, then start telling about what to expect in the capitol, and even start to give them advice for in the arena. This procedure seems much different from when Peeta and I were in the games, but then again, that might have been different if our mentor had been sober. I'm not sure what to expect from Emberlyn, but judging by her emotionless face, and determined appearance, she reminds me a lot of myself.

When I finally sit down with her, I have know idea what to say. I decide to just speak my mind.
"I'm really sorry." I say, trying to show her that I really mean it, "I know that it's... really hard. I'm here to help you, if you have any questions, anything you want to talk about..." She meets my eyes, but her lips don't move.
"It's alright if you don't want to talk. I didn't either, at first." I add. This time she speaks up.
"No that's okay..." her voice is soft but shaky. "I just don't think it's officially... hit me yet. It doesn't feel real."
"It never does" I say honestly, "Even when you're in the arena, it just, feels like a dream..."
"A nightmare." she corrects me. I can just barely make out a tear in the corner of her eye before she blinks it off and forces herself to make a straight face.
"It's okay to cry." I offer. She just shakes her head, looking at the ground.
"No, really." I say "Before I went to the games, I forced myself not to cry, and that didn't do me any good. In fact, it just kept building up until I just burst into tears. Only that wasn't until I was in the arena, for all of Panem to see. Trust me, it's better to get it over with now, when the only one watching is me." A smiles starts to form on her lips.
"I'll keep that in mind." She laughs. I take back what I thought about her being like me. She's way less stubborn than I was. "Okay, mentor, I have a question." she looks expectantly at me.
"Ask away." I say surprised by her eagerness.
"Star-crossed lovers... are they real?" She locks her big blue eyes on me. I smile, and open my mouth to say 'of course', and then bite my lip. I'm going to be spending the next week with this girl. I better be honest to her.
"Come on, tell me!" she urges me.
"Alright, alright." I say as patiently as I can. "Yes, Peeta and I are in love. But that wasn't always true, in fact I hated him when we first went into the arena together. And, we aren't really married, and I was never pregnant. That was all a lie. Does that answer your question?"
"Oh, yes!" she exclaims. "I knew it! I knew it from the start!"
"Well good for you." I say sarcastically. "Now on to the real questions, please. You know, the ones that have to do with the Hunger Games..."
We spend the next hour or so, getting to know each other, and I start to talk to her about her skills in the arena. I find out she's pretty fast and handy with a knife.

I am just thinking that it looks like I will really work well with Emberlyn, when Effie calls us to dinner, and we meet up with the others to walk down together. When I see Rory, I remember my mental promise to keep him alive, and an awful thought comes to me. I think of Haymitch, and how he had to chose to bring Peeta or me home alive, and he chose me. Despite how likeable and skilled Emberlyn is, if I want to do Rory- and Gale- justice, then I will have no intention of bringing Emberlyn home alive. The thought is so painful that I find it hard to look the girl who I am failing to mentor in the eye anymore.

Emberlyn
Dinner on the train is beyond awkward. Effie rambles on about how exciting the capitol is until she realizes that she's convincing no one, and stops talking altogether. Katniss and Peeta have small conversations here and there, but you can tell they just want to be alone. I don't even bother trying to talk to Rory- who I remember is Katniss's "cousin"- not just because he most likely wouldn't say anything back, but because I don't want to get to know someone that will soon be my enemy. Although I got along well with Katniss earlier, with Effie around, it feels like I can't say anything without insulting the capital.

After dinner we watch the tapes of the other reapings. The tributes from one and two are careers, obviously, but other than that, my competition isn't quite as intimidating as I expected it to be. But then again, you can't tell much from just a reaping. I didn't look very scary when they called me, but truthfully, i don't plan on being easy on anyone. Not even the twelve year olds. There's two this year, Rory and a girl from district 5. When we finally watch the recap of our reaping, I'm disappointed. I look even more pathetic then I felt at the time. Luckily, I don't appear as weak standing next to a crying Rory.

When we arrive in the capital I run to the window to get a closer look at this magnificent place. It's everything I imagined and more. The tall buildings make those of district twelve look like piles of mud and rock. The colorful capitol citizens are waving as our train arrives. As we get closer I can even see the detail in their makeup and outfits. Eyelashes that are as long as the hair on their multi-colored wigs, heels that they struggle to keep balance on as they walk, and dresses that suggest they are a bunch of bows on a christmas present. It's not exactly my type- to say the least- but I have to say, I'm pretty excited to see what Cinna has in store for me. I'm anxious to see if I will portray the same "girl on fire" look that Katniss got from her genius stylist. Cinna's the best stylist district twelve's ever seen- maybe even the best any of the districts have seen. And that's why I'm utterly disappointed when Katniss tells me he won't be my stylist.
"What? He got promoted to a better district, didn't he?" I frowned "Why would he do that? I thought he liked district twelve!"
"No, he didn't get promoted." Katniss says patiently. And when I start to see her eyes glossing over I realize what she means. Cinna's dead.
"The capitol people killed him?" I asked, although it wasn't really a question. She nods once, looking at the ground, and brightens up a little.
"But it's okay, because Cinna had requested for someone to take his place if anything happened to him, and I hear it's a good friend of his." she enthuses. This cheers me up a bit because if my stylist was friends with Cinna, maybe they would have similar designs and fashion ideas. Maybe I could still be on fire.

When we arrive at our hotel in the Capitol, we make our way up to the twelfth floor, which- certainly not coincidentally- represents our district. Effie instructs me to be in the dining hall on time for dinner, and then I'm led to my room by an Avox who won't look me in the eye.

I could have spent hours exploring the wonders of Capitol technology in my room. Ordering foods- with names I have never heard of in district twelve- and watching it appear before my eyes. Going through the endless amounts of clothes stocked in my temporary closet, trying on styles in every color- and every era- ever existed. Washing my hair in the numerous realistic shower scents provided in my bathroom... It almost makes me forget where I am. Almost. But, not quite. Not with the enormous weight that drops on me whenever my trembling eyes flicker back to reality.

I am just observing the possible settings of softness and incline on my bed, when I hear four quick knocks on my door and Effie's voice chiming that it's time for dinner. I resist the option of just ordering dinner from my room and eating alone- although it's tempting- and make my way to the dining hall.

When I join the others for dinner I find that there is an even greater amount of food available when there's not weight capacity on a moving train to be concerned amount. Although it looks delicious, I spoiled most of my appetite in the last hour ordering extravagant foods from my hotel room, so I stick to just a beverage.
"Been enjoying all that the Capitol has to offer?" Katniss says as she reads my expression.
"Yes." I admit, laughing. Of course she was the same when she first came here. We all eat in silence for a few minutes and then Effie speaks.
"So tomorrow, you two will work with your stylists all day in preparation for the tribute parade tomorrow night." she enthuses. I'm excited to meet my stylist, Veronica, who I'm told was a good friend Cinna's, but I'm still nervous that she'll make me wear something humiliating on the chariot. This is where the competition starts: with sponsors. I can't rely on Katniss's fame and experience in the Capitol. My greatly admired mentor isn't enough to get me sponsors. I'm going to need a reason for them to like me too.

Katniss
I remain sitting at the dinner table until everyone has left except Peeta and I. It's been a very long- and hard- day, and I haven't had a chance to be alone with Peeta yet. As usual he is the first one to speak.
"So..." he begins quietly, "How has she been taking it, Emberlyn?"
"Well she's upset of course but she hasn't been nearly as down as I would expect her to be." I say, "I have to give her that." I look down out the ground and then finally ask the question I really need to know the answer to. "What about Rory?" I ask, although it's not much of a question, since I already know the answer. Peeta shakes his head.
"Not good." he says as his eyes wander around the room as if he's looking for something. "Katniss... Don't feel like... like this is your fault, like you have to save him for Gale's sake or anything. That's not your responsibility."
"What makes you think I believe this is my fault?" I frown at Peeta. I'm not really angry at him for that reason, I'm just angry that I figured out my plan. Who am I kidding? Of course he did. This is Peeta.
"I don't think that. I just don't want you to do anything reckless, okay?" His eyes are locked on me, waiting for the reassurance that he won't get. "Please, Katniss. Just promise me."
"I don't know what you're talking about." I lie. I expect for Peeta to get angry but instead a flicker of pain goes through his eyes. This alarms me.
"I just don't want to see you get hurt. You're finally out of the games, safe... but the Capitol is after you..." he looks up at me miserably "One mistake, and you could... you could..." I cut him off because I can see the words are painful to speak of for him.
"I know, Peeta. I promise I won't do anything to upset the Capitol." Peeta's face floods with relief because he can see that there are no lies behind the words I have said. To top it off, I climb into his lap and kiss him. We sit there for a long time, close to each other, without speaking. Peeta is clearly content now that he's cleared up my ignorant scheming. I, on the other hand, feel like an enormous weight and been dropped on me. How can I promise to the boy I love more than anyone that I won't get myself in trouble with the capitol, and keep my mental promise to Gale that I will keep his brother alive? The truth can barely keep me from breaking into tears. I can't.