*EDITED CHAPTER*

Gale POV:

That night, they replayed the Reaping from all twelve districts. Our district's was pure chaos. It seemed to get the most attention because of Katniss's 'noble' volunteer. It was odd to listen to the commentators pay so much attention to District 12. Usually we got the least amount of notice. Basically, we were the underdogs.

The next few days at school were tortuous, to say the least. They won't show anything from the Hunger Games, until tonight. Rarely do they ever show us anything at school. There has to be major action or change going on for that to happen.

By the time I get home, I am a ball of impatient nerves. I decide to hunt, hoping the quiet peace I usually find in the woods will calm my nerves.

When I reach the other side of the fence, I can instantly feel the change in atmosphere. The woods feel foreign to me, and I feel it is because Katniss is not here. I feel somewhat naked without her presence; a feeling I wish I could get rid of. I do not like feeling so vulnerable. Katniss and I hunted together for four years. Having her jerked away from me so suddenly has left me in shock. It's as if my right hand has been taken away. My longing for her to come home grows immensely; so much it is almost crippling.

Finding no luck in comfort or game, I leave the woods. I walk around the Seam, thinking about everything that has happened in the last few days. Was it only two days ago, that I was sitting in the woods sharing goat cheese and bread with Katniss, and making fun of the Capitol? It feels as if decades have gone by.

I make it to my house in time for the broadcast of the Hunger Games to come on. I am somewhat surprised to find Prim and her mother there.

Prim greets me with a warm hug, and I cannot help but return it. We all gather around my family's old, broken down television set. The screen does not show a clear picture and the sound does not always come through, but it is better than nothing.

Tonight's feature will be the introduction of the two Tributes for each district. This is the part of the games where both Tributes ride through the Capitol in chariots. They are dressed in costumes related to their districts. District twelve has seen quite the humiliation in this department. I think back to the year our tributes were naked, only covered in soot. I shudder at the thought of what Katniss must be going through.

The feature begins with District 1. Their district makes luxury items for the Capitol, so they are decked out in extravagant costumes. Their horses are snow-white with jewels all around their bodies. The Tributes have been spray painted silver, and also have jewels all over them. The crowd goes wild.

District 2 follows, and then 3, 4, and all the way up until 11.

The female Tribute for District 11 is a small, wispy girl. She can be no older than twelve. Having a sister that same age, I wonder how Katniss feels about that.

After District 11 has passed, it seems as if it takes light years for 12 to emerge. When they do, my breath leaves my body.

Katniss and Peeta are on fire. Literally. The crowd is immediately entranced, and I find myself right along with them. Never have I seen Katniss look so beautiful. Though she is not as fancily made up as the other girl Tributes, the look suits her. The fire on her hat and cape seem to light her face up in a way I have only seen once or twice. I am utterly speechless. She blows kisses to the crowd as they call her name from every direction. One of the commentators makes the remark 'Katniss: the girl on fire' and I nod, agreeing. It suited her.

The image of Katniss on fire stayed with me for a while. Every time I would close my eyes, she would be there, on fire. I felt amazement all over again each time the memory came back. Who would have thought the scruffy girl from District 12 could put on such a spectacular show. Who would have thought tough, pigheaded Katniss could look even more beautiful than she was.

God, I wanted nothing more than to see her; in person, and not on some television screen, where she is paraded around the Capitol, like a prize pig before its slaughter.

I try keeping myself busy. Whenever I have free time, my mind wanders. I had to stop thinking about it, or else I would make myself sick. I hunted more than I usually did. I applied myself at school ten times more than I usually did, but none of it mattered. Katniss was still there, in my mind. Her impending death loomed over me like vultures over a dead carcass. What would I do if she died in the Games? Could I go on?

Tonight was the night they announced the scores of each Tribute. The scores could either make them or break them. I knew Katniss would be a shoe-in for nothing less than eight. If they had a bow, there's no telling what she would make.

Prim and her mother have joined us again, by invitation from my mother. I am somewhat surprised to see them here. If I had my way, I would go into hiding and not come out until the Games were over. That way I could mope and grieve in peace and away from the speculating eyes that show pity when they meet my own. Away from the whispers that begin when my back is turned.

The program begins with the commentators announcing the events for tonight. They talk and ramble on about pointless things, and by the end I am ready to throw the television through the wall. They must do it on purpose; keep the viewers on the edge of their seats
until they're practically salivating to see the program. What it must feel like to be a Gamemaker.

Finally they begin. Naturally District 1 is first. The picture of each Tribute is flashed up on the screen for a couple seconds, and then their score is shown at the bottom. Years of watching the Games have taught me those Tributes who usually get scores of eight and above are the ones most likely to get sponsors. I also learned one year, that some will not show their talents until on the screen. They purposely get low scores to throw their opponents off. I would hope Katniss wouldn't pull a stunt like that.

Most of the Tributes from Districts 1, 2, and 3 earn somewhere in the eight to ten range. I am not surprised. Everyone else averages about a five. By the time District 12 is up, I am wound up tighter than a choke chain on a Rottweiler. Katniss will need sponsors to survive in the ring. Her score will play a big part in getting them.

Peeta's picture flashes up on the screen. It is a couple seconds before his score appears. It is an eight. I find myself surprised. What could a baker's son do, that could earn him an eight? Maybe he threw rock-hard biscuits and knocked one of the people that judge them, out cold. I chuckle quietly. I shouldn't have thought that.

My amusement fades when Katniss's picture appears. My palms are sweating and my stomach is clenched. I pray silently, that Katniss gets a decent score.

The score shows up and it's…

Eleven!

Prim squeals with excitement in her mother's arms, while I beat the air with my fist. She'll definitely be on the priority list, with a score like that. Her chances of winning have increased profoundly.

The anthem plays and the television shuts off. My moment of happiness fades as I remember the Games have not nearly begun. I sigh, feeling my heart sink to my toes.

Prim and her mother give us warm good-byes, and then they are gone. My siblings have gone to bed already, so it is just me and my mother who are awake.

I sit in our ragged recliner chair, staring up at the ceiling. I feel a warm hand on my shoulder and look up into my mother's worn face.

"I do not know what you must be going through, Gale. Be that as it may, I am still here. You know that." She kisses the top of my head, like she used to when I was little. I nod and then watch her walk to the bedroom. I follow an hour or so after. It is a while before I can quiet my mind enough to let me sleep. I think of the question I asked myself earlier: Could I go on, if I lost Katniss in the Games? I try imagining life without her; without ever seeing her again, hunting with her. I may not be the one in the Games, but Katniss is. She may not know it but she holds a little piece of my heart. If she dies in the Games, that little piece goes with her. I will never be the same Gale. I accepted my father's death. It was somewhat of a course of nature. I will never be able to accept Katniss's death. She will die for something that she wasn't alive for; something that was never her fault. She will die in vain because of the Capitol. She will die for the mere joy of the Gamemakers, along with twenty-two other children. Her death will not be justified; none of their deaths will be.

I cannot live with that.

I wake up the next morning, thankful that it is Friday, even though they will not show anything more of the Games until Sunday. School is excruciating.

Saturday is a bright, sunny day. I decide to hunt. I had already gathered food for my family, so I decide to hunt for Prim and her mother. The supply Katniss left for them must be running out.

I catch four rabbits and gather all kinds of roots, berries, and other edible things. Tomorrow, I will give it to them. They have invited us to watch the interviews at their house.

The rest of Saturday drags on and on; so slow, I am close to ripping my hair out. I go to bed early, hoping to bring tomorrow sooner. I fail miserably, lying in bed for hours.

When Sunday comes, I do not get out of bed until it is time to leave for Katniss's house. Usually, I would be up before the sun, slipping through the fence and meeting Katniss. We would spend all day hunting for our families, stocking up for the week to come.

We arrive at Prim's house in time for the program to begin. I give Katniss's mother the rabbits and other findings. Her face lights up. Whether from relief or appreciation, I will never know.

When the show begins, the cameras are fixed on an empty stage. A man with a white face and powder-blue hair bounces onto the stage. He introduces himself as Caesar Flickerman, as the Tributes file in and sit in their designated chairs.

We sit in agony, as Districts 1-11 are interviewed. I silently size each one of them up, calculating Katniss's chances of overtaking them. Her chances are good with seventeen out of her twenty-three opponents. The other six, from Districts 1, 2, and 3 are the only concerns she will more than likely have.

Finally it is time for Katniss's interview. She steps up to the stage, and I find myself breathless once again. She is, quite possibly, the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. Her dress makes her look as if she is engulfed in flames. Once again, she wears little make-up; her face has a natural beauty, brought out even more by the dress. I will never cease to be amazed by her.

"Oh, she's so pretty." I hear Prim whisper in awe. Her mother pulls her closer, wrapping her arms around her. She kisses the top of her head, and I can see the moisture in her eyes.

Caesar Flickerman holds his hand out to Katniss, who hesitantly shakes it. I see her eyes flicker to the audience, looking for someone. I can tell when she finds them, because she seems to relax almost immediately.

"So Katniss, the Capitol must be quite a change from District Twelve. What's impressed you the most since you arrived here?" Caesar asks flamboyantly.

Katniss seems to think about it for a second, before answering "The lamb stew."

I give an involuntary laugh. Leave it to Katniss to notice the food. She must be having a field day with all of the varieties of fancy cooked meals.

She and Caesar talk animatedly about the dish, while I watch in shock. Katniss seems so at ease with him. I've never seen her talk so easily with anyone. It took me months to even get her to smile at me.

Caesar gives her a secret smile as he says: "What did you think of that costume?"

Her eyes widen in mock fear. "You mean after I got over my fear of being burned alive?"

He laughs and nods. "I thought Cinna was brilliant and it was the most gorgeous costume I'd ever seen and I couldn't believe I was wearing it." Cinna must be her stylist. "I can't I'm wearing this, either." She lifts up her skirt and spreads it as far as it will go. It's positively beautiful. Katniss is even more beautiful.

The audience makes noises of approval. Lots of oohs and ahs.

Katniss begins to twirl around. The audience goes crazy and the host says "Oh do that again!"

She lifts her arms and spins around. She looks as if she is engulfed in flames; she is a goddess. She stops and clutches Caesar's arm. "Don't stop!" He reminds of the younger kids at the puppet shows our school puts on. Katniss surprises me by giggling, as she says "I have to, I'm dizzy!" Katniss giggling? Never had I thought I would hear that. If times were different and she wasn't being sent to her death, I would surely tease her about it.

Caesar makes a jab at Katniss's drunk of a mentor, Haymitch. The audience laughs, and the cameras get a shot of the old bugger. He doesn't seem too happy about the jibe.

They go on to talk about Katniss's high score. The audience is dying to know how she pulled it off, as am I. The Gamemakers will not let her reveal her secret, so Caesar moves on to other matters.

He asks her about volunteering in Prim's place; asks her to tell him about Prim.

Katniss immediately tenses up. Her face goes blank, and I know they've lost her. She's closed herself off, and I do not blame her. If it was me, I wouldn't tell the monsters at the Capitol anything of my family.

She looks to the crowd, for that same person? She looks back at Caesar and I can see the conflict in her eyes, as the cameras get a close up. Finally she answers. "Her name is Prim. She's just twelve. And I love her more than anything."

Prim begins to cry. She reaches out to the television, as if hoping Katniss could some how hear her and reach through. She screams "I love you too, Katniss!" Before burying her face in her mother's necks. Her body shakes with sobs as her mother fights to keep herself calm. I look away, unable to watch the family tear apart right in front of my eyes.

"What did she say to you? After the reaping?"

Katniss swallows hard and looks up into the audience. "She asked me to try really hard to win." The cameras get a shot of the audience. They stared down, at the girl on fire. Their solemn looks of pity and sorrow made me sick. They didn't care. If they did, they wouldn't allow the Capitol to do this.

"And what did you say?" Prompts Caesar. Even through the television screen, I can feel the impatience of the audience.

Katniss takes a shaky breath. "I swore I would." She says quietly.

The buzzer goes off, indicating her time is up. The crowd goes crazy, standing up, applauding. She has them all wrapped around her finger. I am relieved that her interview went so well. She will definitely get sponsors. I just know she will.

Next is Peeta Mellark. I do not know him. I've only seen him a couple times at school and at the bakery. His father is the one who traded me the bread for my squirrels the day of the reaping. There must be something special about him for him to have earned an eight. I am curious as to what that could be.

Peeta captures the audience from the very start. He plays up his role as a baker's son, and compares the different breads of the districts. He even tells a couple jokes. If her weren't Katniss's enemy, I might like him.

Things become serious, when Caesar asks Peeta, if he has a girlfriend back home.

Peeta shakes his head.

"Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?" Caesar says.

Peeta sighs, as if giving up. "Well there is one girl. I've had a crush on her since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I existed until the reaping."

The crowd sympathizes with him, and I can tell he's got them all wrapped around his finger. They're eating this up, and hanging on his every word.

"She have another fellow?"

"I don't know, but a lot of boys like her." Says Peeta.

I wrack my brain, unable to guess as to who it could be.

Caesar tries helping him out. "So, here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?"

I feel sorry for Peeta, I really do, but I cannot let Peeta be the one that will be coming back to our district. I want Katniss to win. And if that means Peeta has to die, then so be it.

Peeta looks down at the floor, and I can see him turn an odd shade of red. "Winning…won't help in my case." says Peeta.

I begin to realize what he means, when Caesar asks, "Why not?"

Peeta's face becomes even redder, as I become sick to my stomach. I can feel my head spinning. No. This can't be happening. Not her!

"Because...because…she came here with me." He stammers.

My stomach turns to ice, and I feel my world crashing down around me, as I hear Prim mumble "Aww,"

So I'm pretty proud of myself on this chapter. I think I've reined in my comma use a little, lol. It is the longest chapter I've written. Hopefully I put a lot more detail in. Review, and tell me what you think of the changes!