Chapter 1: The Reaping
Even on reaping day, we have the same exact breakfast: stale bread. That's pretty much all we eat here at Mellark bakery, except for the occasional squirrel my father trades from Katniss. Katniss hunts illegally. She's done it ever since her father died in the tragic mine accident that killed so many. The accident took her friend, Gale's dad too. He's been hunting with her since the accident as well. Those two are always together, made inseparable by circumstance.
No squirrel this morning, though. We are saving the two we have for dinner tonight. The likely celebration that will come from not being reaped for the bloodbath that is the Hunger Games. Unlike most families in District 12, my brother and I do not have to take tesserae. Children who are unfortunate enough to have to take tesserae, must enter their name extra times in exchange for rations of oil and grain. Katniss has her name in that reaping ball at least thirty times because of tesserae. Compared to my four, Katniss doesn't have great odds.
My thoughts are interrupted as I hear my parents usual fighting from the kitchen.
"I don't like that girl, Ryley!" my mother shouts. I know she's talking about Katniss. My mom has never liked her. It's probably because of the history between my father and Katniss' mother. I don't know much about it, but my mother has always resented Katniss and her family because of it.
"What do you expect me to do Sessa?" my father screams back, "Katniss provides us with meat for our table that we can't otherwise get, so unless you can find somewhere else to get it, I will keep dealing with her!"
My parent's voices fade behind me as I retreat into my room to find some peace. I need to get ready for the reaping anyways. It is required that every child look their best on reaping day. I see it as some sort of sick joke, like bathing pigs just before they go in for slaughter. But, it is on order from the Capitol, so it must be obeyed. I sit on my bed and quietly prepare myself for something no one could ever hope to prepare for.
As I make my way to the town square, where the reaping is to be held, I can't help but notice the sea of emotion around me. Every child either looks like they will cry, faint, or throw up. I can't even imagine what is plastered on my face right now; probably some mixture of all three. As I continue to move along with the crowd, my eyes find Katniss, a shining beacon in the middle of a restless sea. She maintains her usual calm confidence, although I see a flicker of uneasiness cross her face as she reaches to grab her little sister Prim's hand. I finally reach the square and walk toward my required spot.
The square is split into 14 sections. Boys and girls are split, and then there are seven sections for both genders, one for each age group between 12 and 18. I slowly find my way to the section allotted for sixteen year old boys and nervously wait for the reaping to begin. It seems like forever before I hear her voice.
"Happy Hunger Games!" Effie Trinket cheerily pips in her Capitol accent, "And may the odds be ever in your favor!"
As usual, this supposedly harmless remark stirs something inside of me. Probably because for District 12 as a whole, the odds are very much not in our favor. The Hunger Games, put simply, is a battle to the death on live television with only one victor and survivor. The Capitol likes to say it is a reminder of the Dark Days, in which the districts rose up in rebellion against the Capitol. This resulted in the impoverishment of most of the districts, and the complete obliteration of District 13. As "punishment" for this rebellion, each year the twelve remaining districts must each submit two "tributes", one boy and one girl, to compete in the Hunger Games. This results in a total of 24 children to compete in the Games, which means that 23 children won't make it out alive. Anyone who's not from Districts 1, 2, or 4 has a slim chance of making it out alive, but District 12 has been especially unlucky. We haven't had a victor in 24 years.
"Ladies first!" Effie says as she fishes around in the ball for a slip of paper. My heart beats so fast, I think it might tear out of my chest as I fervently hope Katniss' name isn't written on that slip of paper.
"Primrose Everdeen," Effie calls out. My first reaction is relief, then total and utter shock. Katniss' sister could not have been picked; she's only 12 and her name was only in that ball once! But it becomes all too true as I witness what happens next.
"I volunteer!" I hear Katniss shout something that has never been heard in District 12, "I volunteer as tribute!" Now I am almost sure my heart will leap out of my chest because my worst nightmare has come true: Katniss is going into the Games, and will almost surely never come back. I fight the tears as they start to come, and try to clear my head in order to think of a way around this. But I am truly unprepared for what happens as Effie asks for applause. The entire population of District 12 lifts their first three fingers to their lips and lifts them in the air. This is an utmost sign of respect in our district and in this moment it is meant for Katniss.
As this is happening, a plan begins to form in my mind. I could volunteer in the place of whatever boy is chosen, and go into the Games in order to ensure Katniss comes home. But it would mean my life in the place of hers. I don't know if I could do that. I've saved her once before, but it was so long ago and a much different situation.
It was over four years ago. I was working in the bakery as I do every other day, when time got away from me, and the bread I was cooking came out singed black as the coals in the fire. I carried them to the back to throw them away, when my mother comes and sees what I was doing. She screamed terrible things at me and hit me across the face. I could feel the welt on my cheek growing as I ran outside to feed the bread to the pigs. As I tore off a chunk and threw it into the trough, I saw her: Katniss. She looked like she was on Death's door, which she probably was, and as hopeless as a person could get. Without looking to see if my mother was watching, I threw her the first loaf. After a couple of seconds, I threw her the second. She looked at me with a mixture of confusion and gratitude as she quickly got up and ran in the direction of her home.
I keep running over this moment in my mind wondering if the courage that moved me to throw her that bread would move me to sacrifice my life for hers. I wonder if I could bring myself to utter the same words as Katniss, wonder how they would taste in my mouth. I know I have to make a decision, as I hear Effie fishing around in the second reaping ball. And in that moment, the decision is made for me.
"Peeta Mellark," Effie calls. I start making my way to the stage in a daze, as it's my name she called. I am relieved that I don't have to make the decision that decides my fate but also sad that I can't. I don't know if having my fate in someone else's hands is exactly what I want. When Effie calls for volunteers, the only answer is silence. I wasn't expecting my brother to volunteer as we've never been that close, and I could never expect him to sacrifice his life in place of mine.
As Effie tells us to shake hands, I try to keep mine from trembling. My eyes meet Katniss' for only a second and I can see the recognition burning in them. I can only think she's remembering that same incident with the bread, the only time I've been able to act on my feelings for her. As we walk off the stage and make our way to the Justice Building, I fight back the tears that will most certainly come, even before I am allowed to say my final goodbyes.
The Hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins. I do not own any of it! This is my first chapter. I hope you liked it! I have a couple more stockpiled but I figured I would wait and see what kind of response I get first. :) PLEASE Review! Thanks guys