AN: Good morning everyone and happy Monday. I have had this idea for awhile now and have been working so hard on this. Now I hope all of you followers of mine give this story a chance. I love Peeta and he is one of my favorite characters from the Hunger Games. Now what I am planning is changing all three books to be from Peeta's perspective but not changing the content of what happens. There will be torture and blood and I am warning you in advance so that you can be prepared for that. Another thing you should be prepared for is that I do not write lemons ever. So today is July 11, 2016 and this is the first chapter today. Anything you recognize is Suzanne Collins and anything you don't recognize is mine.

My hand shook in my father's as he walked me down the dirt road. Augustin and Lucian, my older brothers, ran ahead to their friends. Even though we were family my brothers and I aren't close. Not in the least. It wasn't that I didn't like them but it was more like I didn't know how to talk to them. They were both very quiet and rarely speak, like my father. My mother was, unfortunately, not like my father. She had a very bad temper. If I ever did something wrong in the bakery she would call me a "stupid creature" and hit me with whatever was closest.

I frowned down at the ground wishing Delly Cartwright had agreed to walking to school with me but she had wanted to walk with her mother. She was my neighbor and my closest friend. Her parents owned the small shoe shop down the street from my family's bakery.

I sighed and slowed as we neared the school. Father matched my pace even though his legs were twice as long as mine. "Peeta you have nothing to worry about, son." That was easy for him to say he wasn't going to stay, he would be going back to the bakery.

"What if they don't like me?" I asked not caring that my voice was shaking as I eyed a tall boy from the Seam who towered over even my father.

"They will," my father said as he lowered himself down to my height. I stared into his bright blue eyes and knew that he was telling the truth. "I promise," he paused for a moment before nodding off to my left. "See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner."

My eyes bugged and I turned to look for her. I spotted a girl my age wearing a red plaid dress and had her black hair in two thick braids over her shoulders. Her eyes were dark gray and she was looking around, a strange look on her face. Not fear or panic but looked fearless. Like she was going to conquer whatever life threw at her. She was skinny but walked with her shoulders thrown back and her head held high.

I blinked owlishly before turning back to my father. "A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?"

There was no one better than my father, no better man. He was so good, even when he had to deal with my mother, which was every day.

"Because when he sings…even the birds stop to listen." I frowned and was about to ask what her name was when we were called to line up by a skinny teacher who had her brown hair in a tight bun.

"May the odds be in your favor son," father said before turning and walking back the way we came.

I quickly walked over and got into line behind the mayor's daughter who was shaking. She kept biting her nails and pulling on one of her curls.

Class was very different from what I expected but not exactly bad just different. First we started with math, which I was bad at. Then we learned about the main uses of coal and how to find it, which was boring. We moved onto the alphabet, which I already knew thanks to my father. Lunch was after going over our letters and I ate a stale muffin while Delly sat across from me chattering about the letter O as she ate her food. After lunch we were told the history of Panem which was so sad, so many people died scary deaths.

We all already knew what came from the Dark Days, after all we were forced to watch the Games every year. In fact one of my earliest memories was watching a girl, no more than sixteen, rip out an eleven year old boy's throat with her teeth. It was terrifying and I had had nightmares for months. Still did every once in awhile. Delly had tried to help me by talking to me about it but that only made it worse.

After the history lesson we did art. The teacher had passed out extra pencils so we could draw something "festive" for the start of school. I didn't really know what to draw so I stared out the window instead. The teacher tapped lightly on my desk and I flushed at being caught not doing my work. She nodded toward the paper and I picked up the pencil trying to decide what to draw. I put the pencil to the paper and drew the first thing that came to my mind, a rose. It was fun drawing and relaxed my tense muscles.

Art was the second to last class of the day. After art was music assembly. The teacher had us grab our chairs and put them in a circle. I was sitting between a girl with red hair and a boy with pants that were too short.

"Now, does anyone know the Valley Song?" Miss Burbado asked looking around the room. The girl that my father had pointed out earlier slowly raised her hand her lips twitching into a smile as if she had thought of something funny.

"Perfect, why don't you come over here Miss Everdeen?" Miss Burbado said. The girl stood up and slowly walked over to the teacher. "Why don't you stand on this stool Katniss?"

Katniss, so that was her name.

She frowned before quickly scrambling onto the stool and stood carefully in the center. I sighed hoping the day would be over soon since I was hungry and tired but then she started to sing. I gasped as her sweet clear voice swept over me. It was pure and beautiful and so filled with life it almost brought tears to my eyes. The birds outside the window had stopped chirping and I knew, in this moment, my life would never be the same again. No Katniss Everdeen had a voice like a mockingjay and I hoped that one day she would become my mockingjay or at the very least talk to me.

AN: Please Review! It helps so much more than you realize. Reviews make me happy and when I'm happy I think about the story more. The more I think about it the more I create new twists and turns for the story and I end up updating more. Which in the end makes everyone happy.