Hey, if you're reading this, well, thanks. Umm... I am adding a new character to this story, im not telling you but it'll be like Rue to Katniss, it's going to be Peeta's ally and I need a weapon for her. Please if you leave a review, please tell me a weapon you'd like for her. Thank you.
When I wake up, the sound of my mom calling me comes from my left ear. My hands stretch out and cover my ears, stopping me from hearing my mom yelling. The bakery must be full for her to be like that, and I can hear the people downstairs.
I prop on one elbow. The light sneaks in through the windows. I can see my whole room. I can also see my dad folded my clothes and my apron.
I jump out of my side of the bed and walk towards the other where the clothes are folded. I grab the shirt, light blue and dark blue jeans. I grab the apron and clean the white pin on the left top side corner, with Peeta, my name.
I put the apron on and run down stairs to the bakery. It was full, both my father and my mom were very busy and the bakery was busy as well.
"Morning sleepy head" my dad says smiling
"Morning dad" I pad his back
I look at my mom, knowing she's going to tell me something for waking up late. I can tell she's mad by her expression even though she's sideways. I don't say anything to her unless she talks to me when she's mad.
I take the orders and place them in a wire with a building stick next to the other 20.
My mom grabs me from the wrist and takes me to the back of the bakery where the bread is prepared.
"Why the hell were you so late" she argues "how many times am I going to tell you that even though you go to sleep late you need to wake up early for work"
"Mom I-" I begin
"No excuses young man" she's still angry "You are going to stay here and make the bread"
She leaves and slams the door.
I see some bread dough on the stainless steel table in a metal tray, there are two trays and each has two breads.
Breads are the least thing people because is the most expensive because is made out of fine flour. Cakes are not, cakes have the cheapest flour and about a fourth of it is grain, but still people love them, after all we are the only bakery there is in District 12.
District 12 is the poorest district after District 13. District 13 doesn't exist anymore; it was destroyed by a mine explosion here on District 12 six years ago. Which I think it was planned by the Capitol. The whole District blew to bits and along with it the habitants. Nothing happened to our District.
I grab the trays and put them in the oven and set it to 350 and turn the light on.
I look to the window on my right and I see a boy under a tree about fifteen yards away. I've seen him in school many times, in fact we spoke once but I thought he remembers. It was a few days later the mine explosion. His dad was in the mine explosion, his mother was devastated she quit her job as a doctor; it may seem that she lost a big job being a doctor, but here in District 12 it's nothing. He's also had to take care of his two brothers and sister. He's had to feed them since then, he goes hunting with his best friend Katniss Everdeen. They could be siblings. Straight black hair, olive skin, they even have the exact same gray eyes. But I don't think their related, at least not closely. Most of the families who work the mines resemble one another.
Katniss's mother used to work as an apothecary in the nicer part of the District 12. She must have really loved him to move from there to the Seam, the Seam is what we walk the poorest side of District 12. At least that's what I've heard of the story.
They go hunting every day. I see them when they come out and go into the woods; they always meet where he is, it looks like he's waiting for her. Some people must know they go hunting but they don't tell because they know what happened to their father's and know that they're doing it for a living.
Even though trespassing in the woods is illegal and poaching carries the severest of penalties, more people would risk it if they had weapons. But most are not brave enough to risk them by entering with just a knife.
If my father was a hunter and built bow and arrows he'd be practically wealthy, you can tell my dad is good using his hands by the way he makes the bread, cookies and etc. Once he taught me to build a trap, with just sticks, to catch a squirrel. My dad used to go on about him dying and he didn't want us to die of hunger and loose our business because he wasn't here.
Most Peacekeepers pretend they don't see people going in the woods to hunt because they're as hungry for fresh meat as anyone who risk's their skin to go hunt.
In autumn some brave people sneak into the woods to reap some apples. But they always keep an eye on the Meadow. They are always close to run back to District 12 just in case something happens. I would know because I've seen them, and they don't go too far.
Once in school I heard them say something about trading in the HOB. The HOB is actually 'The Black Market'; people trade things for food. I don't see the point because if I'd catch a squirrel or a rabbit I won't trade it for bread or oil, but is not my business.
About a month after his father died he was passing by and fell it must've been of hunger, he didn't have a source of food only the one the Capitol gave him and his family, but it only lasts about a month.
It was a rainy day when this happened, I remember perfectly everything. That day I had put on the bread on the oven and when it was almost ready I look at him feeling sorry because I knew what had happened. At that moment I had an idea, I knew how to help him even though I knew what the consequences were. I let the bread burn because no one would buy them burned there were two breads, both burned, one more than the other one.
I guessed my mom smelled it because she came in furious.
"What'd you do" she screamed "What did you do Peeta, tell me"
"I-" I began
"Nobody buys burned bread" she started to get red
She grabbed me by the wrist and took me to the back porch of the bakery.
"Throw it to the pigs, come on what are you waiting for" she continued yelling
"Stupid kid" she murmured on her way in.
I break the first bread in half and throw it to the pigs and then the other half. I look at him and look back to make sure my mom didn't see. I looked at him one more time, he looked like he was dying of hunger and he was cold under the rain and toss the bread half way from where he was.
For a few seconds he remained motionless and when he saw the bread he crawled towards it and put in inside his shirt covering it from the rain as a precious jewel.
I go back to the bakery and my mom continues yelling.
I hope he remembers, not because I want him to thank me but just for unknown reasons.
I check the breads and their ready, I turn the oven off and I take out the first tray with read pot holders, then I take out the second one.
I can feel the heat as I glide my head over the bread sniffing them. The scent of freshly made breads is wonderful, I can smell it permanently, well after all im the baker's son.
My dad comes in.
"Umm, they smell divine" my dad sniffs
"I know" I giggle
"You have to get ready son" I can see the fear in his blue eyes.
"I know dad, ughh I hate the Reaping" I sigh
"Shh" he covers my mouth "They'll hear you and if they did, they'd kill you and us too"
I run upstairs and my dad follows me.
He had my clothes set up already.
There's a light blue shirt with a triangle neck and prisoner looking pants to match.
I can tell my dad is staring at me, and I bet he knows I know.
"I used it when I was about your age for the reaping, and that same year-" he sounded sad and I knew where he was going.
"Dad you don't have to" I knew it hurt him to continue.
"Well, what are you waiting for, put it on" his eyes were watery. I would be too if my parents died at my age.
When I'm done we stand in the broken mirror and he stands behind me.
"You look very handsome son" He looks glad "You very much like me when I was your age"
"The blonde hair, the blue eyes" I didn't let him finish "Everyone who knew you at my age says that"
There were a few minutes of silence, nothing to do or say.
My mom breaks the peaceful silence when she comes in my room.
"How do I look mom" I ask waiting for a polite answer which could never come from her.
I stare at her and she stares at me and then looks at my dad and back to me.
"We'd better be going we wouldn't want to be late" she turns around leading our way to the door.
My mom's right we WOULDN'T want to be late. If we were the guards would come looking for us and we'd have to give a long explanation why we didn't assist to the reaping.
We walk toward the Square, where the reaping is done, in silence. My mom wouldn't say a thing about the reaping. Neither did my dad knowing the consequences. I think the reaping system isn't fair at all; the poor get the worst of it. You are able to be elected the day you turn twelve. That year your name enters once, at thirteen, twice. And so on until you reach the age of eighteen, the final year of eligibility, when your name's been there seven times. That's true for every citizen in all twelve districts in the entire country of Panem.
There's always a trick to it, let's say you're poor and starving. You can opt to add you name more times in exchange for tesserae. Each tesserae is worth one year of grain and oil for one person. You may do this for every member of your family members as well. There are people that have done this for every one of their family members to survive.
After the reaping, everyone is supposed to "celebrate" with what they have because their kids have been spared from death for another year. But at least two families pull their shutters and lock to doors to find a way to overcome that their children are about to face their deaths at a very young age.
Attendance is obligatory unless you want to die. This evening, officials will come around and check to see if you went. If not, we'd a go to jail.
People are filing in silently and signing in. The reaping is the perfect opportunity for the Capitol to keep track of the population. Twelve- through eighteen-year-olds are placed by roped areas by ages, the oldest in the front and the youngest go back, due to the possibility of getting chosen. Family members line up around the perimeter, holding hands in hope that their loved one is not chosen. Some line up betting on who'll get chosen judged by their age.
I was lined in the bunch of sixteen year olds. We're all focusing on the stage in front of the justice building. I notice there are three chairs, a podium and a glass ball full of our names, some more repeated than others. I can see some people's name from where I am, they're written in a neat, almost perfect, handwriting.
On one chair is Margie's father, Mayor Undersee, who is tall, balding man, on the other is Effie Trinket with her weird looking paper white skin, and pinkish hair, and bright green outfit. But there's still an empty seat.
As the clock strikes two, the mayor steps up to the podium and begins to read. It's always the same thing. He tells us the story of Panem, the country that rose from the ashes of a place that used to be called North America. He tells the disasters that have happened, the droughts, the storms, the fire etc. The he talks about how the shining Capitol took over and made 13 districts. Also about the uprising of the thirteen districts and how twelve were defeated and the thirteenth was sent to oblivious. So that's how the Hunger Games came to be, is a way of threatening us to not go back to the Dark Days when the districts upraised.
Then he reads the list of Hunger Games victors, and in seventy-four years there's been only two and only one is alive, Haymitch Abernathy. He's a paunchy, middle-aged man, who at the moment appears shouting something stupid, tries not to fall to the floor or off the stage, and throws himself onto the third chair. He's inebriate. The crowd applauds, but he looks puzzled and tries to give Effie Trinket a hug, she doesn't try to get him off of her.
The mayor looks nerveless. After all this is being televised, right now District 12 is the "make me laugh" district of Panem. He tries to evade what's happening by catching our attention by introducing Effie Trinket.
Brilliant and sparkly like always, Effie Trinket walks towards the podium and gives her signature "Happy Hunger Games! And the odds may never be in your favor!" Her pink hair must be a wig because her curls have slightly moved off center since her clash with Haymitch. She talks about what an honor it is to be here, our representative, but everyone knows her willing and begging herself to be transferred to another district. A district where having a victor is common and not victors like Haymitch a drunk, embarrassing victor. She'd love to have a victor who doesn't embarrass her in front of the whole nation of Panem.
It's time for the drawing. Effie Trinket says as she always says "Who will be our lucky lady or gentle man" and walks towards the glass ball with everyone's names. There are thousands of names, and many are repeated many times, the odds are not on their favor. She reaches in; she circles her hand inside the ball with the names, and pulls out a slip of paper. The crowd takes a deep and collective breath. I'm scared to death, hoping it's not me, it's not me, and that it's not me.
Effie Trinket crosses back to the podium, smoothers the slip of paper, and reads the name aloud in a perfect capitol accent. And it's not me.
It's Rory Hawthorne.