Chapter One
Year of the Seventy-Sixth Hunger Games
I rise before the sun, pleased to find that I have slept soundly through the night- a welcome change from the previous week, which has been riddled with terrifying illusions of the mind. Every night I watch them die- Peeta, Prim, Gale, my mother, the Hawthornes, and even Peeta's family. Well, except for his mother. Hard as I try, I've found no redeeming qualities in her- even after five years of searching.
It was mostly for Peeta's benefit, though I doubt he cared deeply about his mother's feelings anyway. After I won the games things got better between her and I, as I was no longer seem trash. Now, she tolerates me and I tolerate her, which is a great improvement from the days when she would chase me out the back door with a rolling pin.
It nearly killed Peeta, but nothing like that has happened since the day I was reaped. Still, that doesn't mean I don't prefer it when she's out of the house running errands anyway.
I dress for the day, ignoring the shudders than run down my back when I remember exactly what day it really is. Reaping Day. There's no point in dwelling on it, not when it'll be the same thing it's been for the past three years.
I'm going to the Capital no matter what. That's one of the perks of being the only female mentor in the district- I get to make the trip every year. However, it does give me a chance to catch up with Finnick and Johanna, who I miss dearly during the off season.
Peeta's been hearing stories about them for years, and I can tell he's itching to meet them. "Any friend of yours is a friend of mine, Katniss. Besides, they sound like great people." I'm always worried that if a chance for seeing them ever does arise, he'll be scared away. They have certain… habits that may not seem normal. Especially how comfortable they are with nudity. I've never met two people more content to strip.
Last year I ventured down to the District Seven floor only to find myself in the midst of a game of strip poker including Finnick, Johanna, Gloss, Cashmere, Esmeralda from District Five, and- most hauntingly –Haymitch. I was out of there faster than Finnick can take his pants off, which we've discovered- after timing it on more than one occasion with Brutus- is under five seconds.
Finnick says he's never seen someone turn red so fast, but I doubt he really got a good look at me, considering how fast my exit was. Johanna says it was my shame at not being as gorgeous as them that sent me running.
I stand in front of the mirror and begin to re-braid my hair into a single braid. I leave it in two when I sleep, for Peeta's always loved me in that look and during the nights he stays over he always tells me so.
"Katniss?" Prim stands in the door way, still wearing the cotton nightgown she went to bed. Her hair tumbles down her back, and her eyes are thick and heavy with sleep. Still, at fourteen, she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. She's inherited my mother's looks and my father's kind nature. I inherited my mother's attitude- which Haymitch often tells me needs rectifying.
"What is it, Little Duck?" I say, using her childhood nickname absentmindedly. She rolls her eyes at me, something that never fails to remind me that she's no longer a tiny little girl in need of an alert mother. She's become a teenager through and through, and while she's still just as sweet and pleasant, it tugs at my heartstrings.
Of course the moment I remember that she still lets Gale call her that, even in front of her school friends, a scowl forms on my face. She would never roll her eyes at him, not even jokingly, for the only emotions she's able to muster up for him are love and sympathy- especially with the way he works himself to the bone in the mines.
Even so, Prim becoming a teenager is something I have to except. She's even begun to take interest in boys, harboring a crush for none other than Rory Hawthorne. When I told Gale he said Rory was completely oblivious, and I didn't have the heart to give the message to Prim. I started dating Peeta when I was fourteen, and I remember just how scared I was of rejection, despite already knowing his sentiments towards me. I'd never toy with something as fragile as a teenage girl's heart, especially my dearest sister Prim's. She's had a hard enough time being accepted as it is, what with being the almost reclusive Katniss Everdeen's sister.
"I heard you get up and got worried. Where are you going?" She looks at me with such love and concern that I nearly run over to hug her. Prim's always been more selfless than I have, daring to worry about someone completely safe on reaping day, even with her own name in the polls.
"First I'm going to head to the bakery and see Peeta, and then I'm hunting with Gale. He's got reaping day off and they could use the extra game. Besides, I need a squirrel to trade for shoelaces at the Hob."
Prim nods; she knows better than to question my trades at the Hob. While I have more than enough money to buy sturdy laces from the shoemakers, I prefer to trade fresh game to the starving Hob members for threadbare laces that only last about a month if I'm lucky. I suppose it's also the prospect of using real currency to buy my goods- it's unnerved me since the moment I had more than enough.
I'd rather come in with something, and go out with something else. My pockets are better off empty, hands full, for I always keep extra snare wire where the holes don't breach in case Gale's breaks. I know my sister understands this, for my motives have always been an open book to her. She may be the only one than can read me better than I can read myself, though Peeta and Gale have gotten quite good at it over the years. However, Prim is an expert. I doubt they'll surpass her anytime soon. I almost prefer it just being Prim, because two people picking at my brain is more than enough.
"Won't it be early? Peeta's probably still sleeping." She says. Over the years she's grown quite fond of Peeta, and sometimes I joke about him trading me out for her. He tolerates it when he's in a good mood, which is almost always, but when I use it to make light of a bad situation it rubs him the wrong way. He doesn't make it known, but I can tell by the way his jaw tightens when he smiles.
Gale tells me it's because Peeta thinks I might trade him out for someone else, and it could unsettle him. Which is absurd. Life without Peeta would be just as unthinkable as life without Prim and Gale.
"Baker's hours. He's probably already putting bread in the oven."
She smiles at me, probably thinking of all the cakes and cupcakes that colorfully decorate the display windows, and I return it easily. Then I cross the room, kissing the top of her head, which is getting dangerously close to the top of mine. The Capital doctors say I have an inch or two of growth still waiting to happen, but I still think Prim will end up being taller than me in the long run.
"Get some sleep, Little Duck. As Effie would say: we have a big, big day ahead of us." She chuckles at my lackluster portrayal of Effie Trinket's accent, before heading back to her room. I watch as she goes, nightgown billowing behind her in the dawn light, wanting to make sure she gets back to her room safely despite it being a mere five feet away.
Then, I head down the stairs and out the door. The walk to town is uneventful, as most people are still deep in their slumbers. I doubt anyone is really sleeping peacefully, not with what's going to occur in a matter of hours, but many don't hesitate at a chance to slip in some extra rest before they return to work tomorrow.
The shop windows are dark an empty, doors sealed shut, except for the bakery of course. It leaks a warm, yellow glow, and I can see inviting smoke churning from the stone chimney at the top. The pigs oink restlessly, and as I circle around their pen to the back door I make sure to give the runt of the litter a quick scratch on the head. It squeals happily at me, and I shake my head slightly as I reach the back door.
The moment I pull it open I'm enveloped in comforting warmth and the smell of freshly baked goods. Peeta's older brother, Rye, looks up from his work slightly as the door shuts behind me. "Oh. Hey Katniss!" He smiles quickly at me, before ducking back down to his bread. "Peeta's still sleeping. Thought we'd give him some extra hours of rest before his last reaping. Barley turned his alarm clock off."
I nod, hanging my coat on the coatrack right next to Peeta's blue jacket- a favorite of mine. Over the years I've become as comfortable in the safety of the bakery as I have in my own home, especially when his mother is gone. "Should I wait for him to wake up? Gale and I are going hunting."
Rye wipes some sweat off his brow, before offering me a warm smile. I notice the middle Mellark brother lacks his usual incline to tease me, maybe because the stress of the day is getting to him too. Whatever it is, I wish it would happen more often (the attitude, not the reaping), because he can be quite annoying when he wants to be.
"Don't bother; he'll probably be mad if I tell you stopped by without waking him. Besides, he planned to get up early today anyways. Barley's just worried he's overworking himself. Dad thinks so to- but they always agree with each other."
I nod in agreement; Peeta's oldest brother and Mr. Mellark always tend to have the same opinion towards things. I don't think Peeta and Rye mind- it just means Barley gets more attention from their mother as well. She always contradicts Mr. Mellark, and subsequently Barley. Sometimes I wonder how Mrs. Mellark even managed to create such wonderful boys, but Mr. Mellark's unfailing kindness always manages to show through in each of them and I'm reminded of how they seem to have inherited none of their mother at all. The thought is comforting in a number of ways.
"Okay," I tell him, shedding my boots beside the door with the rest of theirs and climbing the steps. The upstairs consists of a kitchen, living room, bathroom, and three bedrooms. Peeta, being the youngest, has his own room because he's further than age from Rye than Barley is.
I sneak a peek inside his parent's room as I pass, sighing in relief when I see that Mrs. Mellark is already off running errands in preparation for the day. Then I head into Peeta's room, switching on the light nearest to the door. He sleeps soundly, half his body tangled in the blankets. One hand falls off the edge of the bed, and his left foot rests slightly over the frame's edge. He looks so young in sleep, and a few of his eighteen years seem to melt right off his face. Peeta is so pure, so untainted by the Capital, despite all of its citizens being completely infatuated with our romance.
Years of being followed around by cameras have left him unchanged, if not a little more aware his surroundings. And the fact that he's managed to retain that unwavering goodness is more than enough. Haymitch once told me that I could live ten million lifetimes and never deserve him. I've only got one, but I'd be happy to spend the rest of it trying to prove him wrong, even if I agree with him.
I cross the room, careful not to step on the creaky floorboards, and kneel down beside his bed. His wavy blonde hair is unkempt and matted against his forehead, and I slowly brush the soft strands away, eyes glued to his face. He stirs at my touch, muttering my name slightly in his sleep. I lean down to kiss his temple, which awakens him entirely, and he reaches over to snag my hand, pressing his lips to my wrist lovingly. "Katniss." He murmurs, peeking one azure blue eye open.
"Peeta." I echo, bringing my other hand up to stroke his cheek. "Wake up."
He shakes his head, playfully burying his face in the folds of his pillow. "I don't want to." I smile slightly, running my free hand through his tangles of hair. After a moment, he looks up at me, then out the window at the still lightening sky.
"It's early." He says matter-of-factly, though it's muffled by the remains of his slumber.
"I know. I thought you'd already be awake. Gale and I are going hunting, and Rye thought you'd want to see me before I left today."
Today's significance seems to dawn on him and he sits up suddenly, pulling me onto his lap as he goes. "Do you have to leave me?" I sigh, because we always go through the same routine on reaping day. He asks if I have to leave, wishes he could come with me, and we both part for the day.
It only seems to get more heartbreaking as the years go by, because there will come a day when I really will consider staying. And I can't anger President Snow, for the retaliation would be immense. My romance with Peeta has saved me from Finnick and Johanna's fate, but that wouldn't stop him from placing someone I love in the games. Peeta will be safe after today, but it's only Vick's first year. And Posy is only six, there's still time for me to screw up and seal her fate.
"I wish I didn't." I mumble into his chest, and he strokes my hair comfortingly. He knows it tears me apart to leave, and I know it kills him to watch me go. If there was any way to change it, I would in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, there will never be an alternative- not until we bring home another female victor. Which, with Haymitch's drunkenness and my low tolerance level, will probably never happen.
"But you'll come back." He tells me, kissing my temple softly. I clutch the fabric of his shirt as tightly as possible, as though sheer force of will could keep me here.
"And you'll still be here when I do?"
He doesn't hesitate to answer, "Always."
After that I have to say goodbye, for Gale is probably already waiting. Peeta follows me to the back door, peppering kisses all over my face until the moment the door closes behind me. I blow a kiss at him as I cross his yard, and he catches it, holding it tightly to his heart. Then, I head for the woods.
Gale is already at our rock ledge when I arrive, and we quickly get to work. By the time noon rolls around we've managed to catch four rabbits, three squirrels, and two turkeys that had unthinkingly strolled right into our vicinity. I give the lot of it to him, though he insists I take at least a squirrel, which I promptly trade at the Hob for new shoelaces.
After bidding Gale goodbye with a hug and a promise to take care of myself, I return to Victor's Village. My mother has laid a pretty dark blue dress out for me, and I can tell the stitches are that of Cinna's. After taking a shower, I slip it on along with some matching flat shoes.
Prim is already waiting when I arrive downstairs, wearing a nice light blue dress that must have also been sent by Cinna. Her hair has been artfully done in two intricate braids, and she blushes sheepishly when I tell her how pretty and mature she looks. "No, I wish I looked like you, Katniss."
I shake my head, kissing her head once more, before we make our way to the square. The three of us part ways, Prim towards the fourteen year old girl section, my mother towards the throngs of parents, and I towards the stage. Halfway to the steps, I feel a hand on my arm.
Turning, I see Peeta staring down at me with strained eyes. "Good luck." I choke out. He says nothing, instead leaning down and pulling me in for a long kiss. I feel so safe in his arms, and for a moment it's as though the world as stopped spinning entirely. Once I have to break for air the moment is shattered, and Peeta give my hand one last squeeze before heading off in the direction of the eighteen year old boy section.
I watch him until he disappears in the crowd, before making my way slowly up the stone steps. It feels as though every loved one in danger is a weight on my shoulders, and until I'm sure they're safe for another year they'll be dragging me down. Straight into the ground where the mines have been shut down for the day, and then where will I go? From there you can only go deeper, and I'm afraid I'll never be able to find my way back to the light.
I take my seat beside Haymitch, who has actually decided to make an appearance this year, though he reeks of liquor. He gives me a ghost of a smile, actually daring to look me in the eye and say, "Happy Reaping Day, Sweetheart." It takes all my willpower to ignore him, though the look of pain that crosses his face when I stomp on his foot with the heel of my shoe gives me a sweet sort of satisfaction.
However, all good natured feelings are quickly drained from the air as Effie addresses to crowd. "Welcome, welcome! Today, one courageous young man and woman will be chosen to represent District Twelve in the Seventy-Sixth annual Hunger Games! Let's begin, shall we? First, the girls!"
Please don't let it be Prim. Not Prim. Anyone but Prim. Please, please, please. Not Prim. "Orchid Peony!" A girl, maybe sixteen, emerges from the crowd. She has long brown hair tied in a single pony tail, which stretches three quarters of the way down her back. Her grey Seam eyes dart around nervously and she clutches at the folds of her simple brown skirt and white blouse. I regretfully breathe a sigh of relief for my little sister, who is safe for yet another year.
It's not right for me to prefer the death of Orchid over my sister, but I do anyways. The girl mounts the stage, shaking in her worn out leather shoes and Effie guides her over to the left side of the stage. She stares out at the crowd tearfully, and I subconsciously calculate how far I think she'll make it. Three days tops, if the Reaping is enough to throw her off. Still, people aren't always what you think they are. Haymitch told me the first time he saw me he thought I'd be another bloodbath. There's still hope for Orchid Peony, whether she knows it or not.
"Now for the boys!" Effie crosses to the boys, and my fingers tighten around the edge of my seat. Don't let it be Peeta. Not Peeta. Save Rory. Don't let it be Rory. Spare Vick. Not Vick. I find Peeta's eyes in the crowd, and he stares at me reassuringly, though it does little to calm my nerves. He'll be okay. I haven't angered Snow- he won't retaliate if you haven't done anything.
Effie unrolls the slip, and I see the answer to the question I've been dreading in the way her muscles sag. It can't be. I can't be, I haven't done a thing! I was good, I played by his rules! Snow promised me he wouldn't tamper with the Reaping! It can't be. It can't be, but it is.
"Peeta Mellark."