The Tables Turned

A/N

So...this is my first Fanfic. Hope you like it! I LOVE the hunger games (well, not the concept of them obviously, but most definitely the trilogy) I read them before they were worldwide and famous; as they came out! I tried to be creative and not keep with the original storyline too much. I shan't keep the A/N too long, but it would be appreciated to leave reviews! Especially if you have written on Fanfiction before!

Thanks!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, settings or the previous back story (history of the hunger games, Katniss' father in the explosion etc). They all belong to the brilliant imagination of the fabulous Suzanne Collins.

Chapter 1

Katniss

"Why don't they just kill us all and be done with it, rather than killing us off slowly, 23 by 23." I whine to Gale as we sit in the meadow after our morning hunt. The reaping is today, and I am going on with my usual, yearly arguments.

"Because the reaping gives them an advantage, you know that." He replies solemnly, a smug look on his face, the same look as every other time I ask anything about the reaping.

"Honestly, I don't understand why they can't just set off explosions and call it an 'accident'" I counter.

"That's how they explain the reaping, by saying that anyone could be pulled out of that glass ball, and nothing we do will change that. They use the air of mystery on who will be picked to shove some of the blame off of them and onto whoever pulls the name out". He says, slowly gathering his things and standing as he speaks. "Come on, gotta get ready for certain death"

"Yeah, gotta look your best" I agree sadly. It's Prim's first year. I am terrified.

We trundle down the hill and separate as we reach my house, dividing our catch between us. He then, to my surprise, leans in and gives me an awkward embrace. I step back, return his goofy smile and quickly stumble into my house, not looking back, to find my mother and Prim sitting at the table, prim braiding her hair, and mother staring off into space as usual. She only really gets out of bed for important days, and even then she still looks distant.

I run upstairs as I realise that there is only about an hour before the reaping, stripping out of my clothes and stepping into the cold water in our sad little bath tub. I clean myself as much as I can be bothered, and dress in the best thing I can find; a simple green dress my mother gave me when I was younger, before my father died.

"This was one of my favourites" she had said with a small smile as she handed it over, "I used to wear it all the time to special events, I hope you can one day too". I had taken it from her that day, never really intending to wear it, yet here I am, about to put it on, on one of the most terrifying days of my life. This year I not only have myself to worry about, but my sister, the one who has been there for me the whole time, and me for her, who I have struggled with to survive since our mother abandoned us. I have her to worry about.

I finish getting ready and wander downstairs, where mother actually seems shocked at what I'm wearing, but shrugs it off as she knows I don't want her to make a fuss. We sit at the table in an awkward silence till it's time to leave, and at 1:45 we head over to the square, where our blood is taken. We are then sent off into our roped-off sections, where I hug Prim one last time before it's over.

"You won't get picked, don't worry, you'll be fine" I murmur into her ear as I drop her off in the twelve year olds section in the front, and make my way back with the sixteen year olds. I glance back to try to see Gale, but I don't have to look far. I instantly see him staring at me, mesmerised, his grey, glassy eyes staring into mine, for a split second before he realises and abruptly turns away, his face the colour of a tomato. He briefly looks back, a ridiculous grin on his face when I smile, and he then gestures to my dress and makes a clapping motion with his hands. I poke my tongue at him and turn away as the rest of the teenagers file into lines in their sections and begin to talk loudly amongst themselves.

Suddenly, there is a loud screech from the speakers lined around the square, coming from the microphone. Following that, the ridiculous Effie Trinket steps as gracefully as a baby elephant onto the stage in her 8-inch heels. We then watch the video, which most of us can recite from memory, the mayor gives his annoying speech, and then, the moment of reckoning. Effie slowly steps up to the microphone, and as usual, shouts her favourite line:

"May the odds, be ever in your favour!", followed by "Ladies first!".

She reaches her hand into the round glass dome labelled 'Girls: 12-18', rummages around and pulls out a small slip of paper. Not Prim. Slowly infolds it, bit by bit. Not Prim, not Prim. She reads over the name in her head, steps to the front of the stage. Not Prim, not Prim, not Prim. And squeals with utter joy, as usual:

"Katniss Everdeen."

My face falls as the crowd parts for me to make my way up to the stage, a million things running through my head in just ten metres.

"NO!" I hear a young girl's scream ring through the crowd. I look back to see Prim running through the crowd, then being hoisted over Gale's shoulder as he takes her to my mother. I finish my ascent to the stage, and Effie Trinket moves on to the boys. I hear a name, all too familiar.

"Peeta Mellark"

I shudder at the name as pure hatred radiates through my body. I remember that night; I was starving, going to die without food soon. I was rustling through the bins outside the bakery, when I was shooed away by his evil mother. I sat under a tree, waiting to die, for the hunger to consume me, when I saw a shadow in the doorway, it was Peeta. I had seen him at school, but never actually said anything to him or so much as give him a glance. He was holding two loaves of bread, in pristine condition. He gave me questioning look. He then made a gesture as if he was going to throw the bread to me, but instead, withdrew it, gave me a smug smirk, and stuffed a handful into his mouth. He was making exaggerated chewing noises and rubbing his stomach in satisfaction. He then poked his tongue at me, turned on his heel and skipped back into the warmth of the bakery. I sat there, gobsmacked, when a larger, rounder figure appeared in the doorway that must have been the baker. He looks back cautiously, turns to face me, and threw me a loaf of bread. I gave him the biggest smile I could muster in my current state, as thanks, and sprinted back home to my starving family. Prim had squealed at the top of her lungs at the sight of food, and we had had bread with goat cheese that night, from Prim's goat. The next day at school, I saw Peeta, but the look on his face as he stared right at me was shock and annoyance. Did he want me dead? I thought to myself as he walked down the hall with his friends.

I have never thought about him the same way again.

'This boy must die.' I think as he walks to the stage, tears threatening to spill. 'Let's see how you like it to be on the brink of death and nobody there to help you'. Karma is my friend.

He gives me a forced, guilty smile as he comes up to stand by my side, and I give him a smug, cheesy grin back.

We are then, as per usual, instructed to shake hands. I turn towards him, grinning, and reach out my hand. He hesitantly takes it and shakes, and relief floods his face when he realises I'm not doing anything. I then give him an evil grin where everyone can't see, and squeeze his hand so hard he stumbles, and turns his terrified face to look at my cheesy, happy grin. We then release, turn to the crowd, and are escorted back into the justice building, to have one hour to say goodbye to loved ones. I give Peeta one last glare as we part into separate rooms.

Soooooooo...what did you think?

I hope you liked it. I shall try to update if you did. See the cool review button that I really like pressing? How 'bout give it a try? It's fun!

Thanks!

Bella