Chapter 2: Katniss Volunteers

I search for Katniss in the crowd, when I finally catch a glimpse of her brown hair, gathered up in a lovely braid. But I have no time to dwell on how pretty her hair looks. A boy is gripping her arm, keeping her from falling. She's struggling to breathe and comprehend what just happened. I can tell. I look at the small blonde girl making her way up to the stage, her hair plaited. The blood has gone out of the twelve-year-old's face. Prim comes into Katniss' line of sight and something snaps in her.

"Prim!" Katniss yells, though it is so strangled I can barely make it out. "Prim!" And I feel as I am experiencing déjà vu. It reminds me of my nightmare, the one where I couldn't do anything to help Katniss. Then, Katniss pushes Prim behind her protectively. I see now that the kids had made a walkway for her and I feel angry. How can they let her sacrifice herself for her sister? But then again, it is Katniss. She'd do anything to help the sister she loves so much. Then, I hear the words I never wanted to hear from Katniss.

"I volunteer!" She gasps with Prim behind her. "I volunteer as tribute!" Katniss had just volunteered for her death sentence. I feel myself slipping away from the world slowly, shaking my head silently. This has to be another nightmare. It has to be. It can't be real. Katniss can't die. She can't.

"No, Katniss! No! You can't go!" Prim's holding onto Katniss, screaming. A shadow breaks away from the Boys' 18's section. Hawthorne. He walks up to Katniss and pulls Prim off Katniss' back. The way he does that, so calm, makes me angry. How can he let her go? How can he be so calm? He whispers something to Katniss and Katniss walks up, slowly, carefully. But I can see her hand shaking. I glare at the ground angrily. Hawthorne gets the honor, no privilege, of knowing Katniss and he just lets her go with a calm expression. I faintly hear Katniss introducing herself and I'm brought back to reality.

Effie makes me sick. 'Don't want Prim to steal all the glory?' What the heck? What kind of woman would say that to a girl going into her death trap? Then, Effie has the nerve to tell us to give a round of applause.

To give credit to District Twelve, no one claps. I'm the first one to put the three fingers on my lips and hold them out to her. Screw the stupid Capitol and their stupid Games. Next thing I know, everyone's following my lead. She looks like she's about to cry and all I want to do is wrap her in my arms and keep her safe from this wretched world. Haymitch puts an arm around Katniss and she looks like she's struggling to keep up his weight.

"Look at her. Look at this one." He yells. "I like her. Lots of..." He pauses, as if thinking for a word to describe her. "... spunk!" He looks satisfied with himself. Then, he starts yelling at the camera. Is he taunting the Capitol? Haymitch falls off the stage and he's whisked away on a stretcher. Effie's back to her annoying self. Happy for the Games. Happy that Katniss volunteered. Hoping for a half-decent District next year. Then, it's the boys' turn. What if it's Padric? Or me? The thought terrifies me. And strangely gives me a sense of comfort. Maybe I'd be able to talk to her or save her. Maybe.

"Peeta Mellark." She reads.

I look around for the poor boy who got called then I realize. Holy crap! Peeta Mellark! That's me! A rush of emotions washes over me, fear being the most dominant. I don't want to go up there. Can't. But I manage to pull myself together and clench my fists together. Katniss makes eye contact with me, for one second, then her gaze drifts off, as if she's reliving a memory. Unlike Prim, there are no volunteers for me. I risk a glance at Katniss, who still seems slightly out of it. After the mayor reads the Treaty of Treason, we're asked to shake hands. She looks sad and conflicted as I take her warm hand in mine. I squeeze it gently, to offer encouragement. To reassure her.

But when the anthem plays, all I could think of is her small hand, in mine. A perfect fit, almost. As if it is meant to be.