[Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games ideas or characters. The credit goes to Suzanne Collins. However, this story is mine.]
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Chapter One
(Katniss's POV)
It was the morning of the Reaping and I was having a hard time gathering my thoughts. This year, my little sister Prim was eligible to be reaped. Thankfully, she only had one entry. I was entered in the reaping twenty times so I could get tesserae for my family. Another food source, even with my hunting, was desperately needed in our house, and I took it upon myself to provide.
I tried to calm myself, but the nerves were overtaking me. So, I left. And I went to the only place that would make me at least a little calmer: the forest. Going into the forest is illegal, however, but Gale and I have to provide for our families and it's basically our only choice other than stealing.
Gale is my hunting partner. We met years and years ago in the woods, and although it took some time, we became the best of friends. When I got to the place where we hide our stuff, Gale was sitting on the ground next to the hole in the log.
"Hey Katnip," he said, looking up at me.
"Hey yourself," I replied, sitting down next to him.
"I know it's not much, but I have something to 'celebrate' the reaping with." He pulled out a loaf of bread from a bakery and I grabbed it. It was still warm. We split the bread and ate it hungrily.
We talked for a little longer, but then both realized that we should go back and get ready. It was almost time for the Reaping, and we were required by the Capitol to look our best. Not that it mattered, anyways. Our District, Twelve, was always the worst-dressed.
Gale leaned in and kissed the spot right next to my mouth tenderly. He got up and smiled at me. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that for. And this seemed like a good time to try." Not waiting for my response, he turned and disappeared behind the trees.
I sat for a moment longer, feeling the tips of my arrows. Gale just kissed me, I thought. But did I like him that way? Could we ever get married? Again, my head was jumbled with thoughts.
I got up soundlessly and jogged back to where the District boundaries are. Looking around to make sure no one was watching me, I slipped under the fence and walked back to my house.
By the time I had gotten back, Prim was already dressed and her hair was braided. Her soft brown eyes looked into mine. "Katniss?" she asked, almost in a whisper. "I'm scared."
I knelt down in front of her. "Prim, you only have one entry. You should be fine." I reached out and hugged her, folding her small, trembling body into me. A tear rolled down my cheek. Whatever it took, I would protect her. If she's reaped, I will volunteer. The thought stayed unsaid in the back of my mind, but I knew I meant it. I would do anything to protect my sister.
My mom called me saying that my bath was ready. Baths were a luxury in District Twelve. In other districts also, but Twelves rarely ever got to take baths. And practically never freshly-drawn ones. I lowered myself into the warm water and shut my eyes. It felt so good. My mom brought in the soap and I washed myself from head to toe. A layer of grime now coated the water, and it was disgusting to think that it was all from me. When I was finally done, my mom came in again, giving me an old towel and telling me that she had laid a dress out for me on my bed.
"Thank you," I said, forcing a smile. I walked into my room and looked at the dress. It was one of my mother's old dresses and it was beautiful. It was probably the nicest or one of the nicest garments in our house. My mom had followed me into my room and she helped me put on the dress and tie it in the back. And then she braided my hair. Since I was young, I'd wondered how my mother, the medic, had learned to braid so well. I've still never learned the answer.
When she was done, she told me to look in the mirror. When I did, I wasn't surprised to see that I didn't look pretty. At least I looked presentable. My mother, however, seemed to think otherwise. "Katniss, honey," she said, a tear rolling down her face. "You look beautiful.'
"Thank you," I said, hugging her. I couldn't tell her that I didn't think I looked pretty. She would just lecture me on seeing inner beauty and some other stupid things like that.
I found Prim and grabbed her hand, squeezing it. She looked up at me, gratefully. My mother kissed the top of Prim's head and I could see the worry in her face.
And then we left for the Reaping. And the results would change our lives forever.
