Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, plot line, or ideas of The Hunger Games.
I feel sympathy for the girl. She's only a small, scared-looking twelve-year-old. The crowd splits, allowing a large gap for her to travel thorough to access the stage. I'm watching her for a few seconds before it clicks. Her sister realizes it before me, but I can definitely see the resemblance now.
Primrose Everdeen. Katniss Everdeen's little sister. Katniss, the girl who trades the squirrels and the strawberries. Gale's girlfriend. The girl I've secretly loved since we were just five years old.
"Prim!" she gasps, staggering through the crowd and hooking onto the back of her little sister's shirt. "Prim!" She yanks the little girl behind her and, with wild eyes, gasps out the unthinkable. "I volunteer! I volunteer as a tribute!"
I knew she was going to do it. It is no surprise to me that the words slipped out of her mouth like melted butter. I think that Prim is one of the only people that Katniss really loves besides her mother and maybe even Gale.
A murmur of confusion sweeps over the crowd. A volunteer is practically unheard of since District 12 hasn't had one in decades. A loophole in the reaping is that once a tribute's name is called, a person of the same gender, who is eligible to participate, can take their place. In Districts like 1 and 2, kids train for the Hunger Games their whole lives which, by the way, is against the rules although no one reinforces them. Anyway, these kids are eager to get in the arena and risk their lives so volunteering is kind of a competition.
In District 12 though, a tribute basically means the woodman better start building a coffin for them.
"Lovely!" Effie Trinket joyously applauds. "But I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth, then we, um…" she realizes she doesn't know where she's going with her sentence, causing her to trail off.
"What does it matter?" The mayor gruffly interjects. Her has a pained look on his face although I'm not sure why. Probably sympathy for Katniss. I think his daughter Madge and Katniss are friends… "What does it matter? Let her come forward."
Prim, who hasn't been exactly quiet through this whole ordeal, is screaming behind Katniss. She's wrapped her thin arms around her waist, no intention of letting go. The sight is heartbreaking. "No, Katniss! No! You can't go!"
"Prim, let go," Katniss hisses cruelly. "Let go!"
Suddenly, Gale is behind the sisters, peeling Prim off of Katniss and backing away, the little girl thrashing around in his arms. I think he murmurs something to her but I don't catch it.
"Well bravo!" claps Effie. "That's the spirit of the Games!" She's obviously excited that District 12 has a little action brewing for the first time in so long. "What's your name?"
Katniss braces herself and looks up with cold, hard eyes. "Katniss Everdeen."
"I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!"
No one claps. Everyone is much too shocked, including me. The girl I've secretly loved for eleven years, could be dead in a matter of weeks. The love for her sister is undeniable, of course, and I think everyone admired her act of heroism. Still, no one claps, not even the ones holding betting slips. Perhaps they knew her father, or knew her from the Hob. They respected her.
I remember her father. He was a tall, kind man, he traded in the bakery often. I remember my father telling me a story, the first day I laid eyes on Katniss while waiting in line to register for school. He told me that Katniss's father married the woman that my father was in love with. Wondering why Mrs. Everdeen would run off to a man from the Seam rather than a baker, I asked. My father told me that whenever Mr. Everdeen sang, all the birds stopped to listen. It made enough sense to me but I still didn't understand why she would turn down wealth and instead take a life in the Seam.
Later that day, a teacher asked if anyone knew the Valley Song and Katniss was selected to sing. She had indeed inherited her father's voice and I knew, like my father, I was falling for a young girl who I would probably never get.
Something surprising happens in the square. It's an old, rare gesture in District 12 but once it starts, everyone follows, including me. Each member of the crowd touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips then holds it out to her. It means goodbye to someone you love. It's a symbol of admiration, sometimes used at funerals.
Ruining the moment, Haymitch staggers over to Katniss and throws an arm around her, etching disgust into her features. "Look at her. Look at this one! I like her! Lots of…" he pauses for a while, the alcohol probably fogging his brain while he searches for the correct word. "Spunk!" He concludes. "More than you!" He points to a random person in the crowd. "More than you!" He points to the camera this time, addressing the Capitol I think.
He opens his mouth to continue but his alcohol-induced mind causes him to plunge off the stage, knocking himself unconscious. Honestly, I don't even know the man yet he disgusts me. I'd hate for him to be my mentor if I were ever chosen. Heck, I never want to know him at all.
All the cameras avert to Haymitch but my eyes don't leave the girl onstage. She makes a small, sort of convulsing-looking movement but quickly composes herself, swinging her arms behind her back and staring off into the distance. Her eyes turn to rock hard frozen grey storms and her mouth forms a scowl again.
Some medics whisk away Haymitch on a stretcher and although he moves slightly, I doubt he's coherent in any way. Effie Trinket attempts to calm the crowd and spins the boys' ball.
"But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!" She fixes a hand on the crown of her head, trying desperately to keep some sort of stability on her wig.
Although I know it's highly unlikely, compared to all the other boys in District 12, my heartbeat picks up, as it does every year.
I cross my fingers and silently wish my friends good luck. She grabs the slip of paper and rushes back to the podium, adjusting the microphone and…
"Peeta Mellark!"
My mind is blank. I blink a few times in confusion. Peeta Mellark. The name sounds familiar. Where have I heard that name before? Oh.
My legs woodenly carry me up the steps, trying to conceal the pure shock on my face but I doubt it's working. My eyes, usually blue, are probably darker with fright. Willing myself to compose, I put on a look of courage and take my spot next to Katniss.
I have just been reaped in District 12. I, Peeta Mellark, will be fighting to death against twenty-three other tributes in one week. I try to comb my mind for some sort of strength I have. Nothing, the only weapon I could use is my artistic skills and who knows how that could possibly be helpful, and my strength. Not like I could possibly kill anyone with my bare hands. The idea is simply preposterous.
So, I jump to the only conclusion I can think of. I am going to die.
I vaguely hear Effie Trinket asking for volunteers but I know no one will offer to take my place. My brother… it's not that he's selfish, really. He just can't… devotion is tested on reaping day. I know I wouldn't take his place if the situation was reversed, so I don't blame him. And my other brother is too old. I don't want to look at my parents so I dont. I don't want to see the furious look upon my mothers face for losing a hand at the bakery. I don't want to see the pale face of my father, twisted in pain and sadness and loss.
They know I won't be returning.
I try to focus on something. Anything. The girl next to me? For eleven years, I'd tried to build up the strength to talk to her unsuccessfully. There was only one instance that was significantly planted in my memory.
She was starving and desperate so I don't even know if she remembered it. But I certainly do. And I know I'd never forget.
It was raining. I remember it because there was a bucket set in the middle of the floor where a leak in the roof. I'd accidentally tripped over it, causing a mess in the kitchen. Mother slapped me across the face and ordered that I clean it up, all the while yelling that I'd just wasted good drinking water.
I was taming the fire in the oven with a long stick when I heard her yelling. "Move on! Get out of here! Get! Do you want me calling the Peacekeepers? You're lucky I haven't already! I'm so sick of having you little brats from the Seam pawing through my trash! It's disgusting! Get out of here!"
I went out to investigate, peering out behind my mother's apron, gripping the back of her dress and watching the young girl. I knew who she was immediately, she was in my grade at school and she lived in the Seam. Her father had just died in the mine explosion a couple months ago so food was probably scarce around her house.
I felt horrible for this girl. Of course, my developing crush was already brewing by this time so naturally, I wanted to help.
Even after Mother slammed the door on the poor girl, I continued to watch for a minute, watching her collapse next to a tree in defeat, weakness showing on her face.
I left the window to return to the oven and, making good sure Mother watch watching, fed the bread to the fire, "accidentally" dropping it into the flames. I quickly fish it out but gasp in fake horror, waiting for my punishment. I'd already knocked over the water bucket, I can't imagine what she'd do to me now.
"You worthless little good-for-nothing child!" She hit me across the face with a bread board, making me cry out. "Go! Go outside!" She led me out the back and shoved me out the door. "Feed it to the pig, you stupid creature! Why not? No one decent will buy burned bread!" She slammed the door in my face and stomped back to the bakery.
I carefully began to rip away the worst damage to the two loaves I'd burned and threw them in the trough. I heard the bell ring in the front and, making sure no one was watching, I quickly threw the first loaf of bread in Katniss's direction, my eyes never leaving the pig. I glanced around again to make sure the coast was clear and threw the second loaf.
Before I could see her, I sloshed back into the bakery in the rain with my head down, rubbing my numb cheek. Peeking out the window once I was inside, I saw her looking incredulously down at the fresh loaves of bread. Realizing what happened, she stuffed the bread under her shirt and began to run in the general direction of the Seam.
I didn't do what I did to make her like me, or even appreciate my actions. I didn't do it so she'd notice me at school. I did it because when I looked at her, I didn't see the girl I'd had a crush on, I saw a poor, starving, skinny, father-less girl standing in the rain, days away from death.
The next day at school, my cheek had a large bruise on it. It was black and blue and quite ugly. I looked for Katniss, hoping to see some sort of improvement in her looks and physical well-being. I caught her eye a few times during the day but they quickly flitted away, refusing to meet mine.
Did I do something wrong? I thought to myself. Did she wish I hadn't… My mind conducted many reasons for her refusal to look at me.
After school, I saw her and her little sister in the front of the school yard. I admit I was staring but when she noticed me, I quickly dropped my gaze, not wanting to seem like a creep. For that one second, I think I might've seen a small thanks in them but I couldn't have been sure.
That was the first time I saw her smile. She looked at her sister and pointed to a little yellow fuzz in the grass. A dandelion. She picked it and handed it to Prim, then ran off towards their house, leaving me stand there in wonder.
I'll never forget that day. Not for my own selfish reasons, but because I think that the bread gave her strength, which is exactly what I had intended all along.
But now that we were going to be in the Hunger Games arena together, fighting for survival against each other, was nearly unbearable. I didn't want to kill her, I didn't want to be her enemy.
The mayor finishes reading the Treaty of Treason and gestures for Katniss and I to shake hands, breaking me out of my little daze. I look straight into her grey eyes with a cool expression and give her hand a little squeeze, trying to be reassuring.
Together, we look directly toward the cameras, facing our nation.
Yello! (: Okay, so I'm hoping I got the whole bread thing right… kind of mixed emotions as to whether I did it justice or not… Review?
-FM
