Chapter 3: The Boy with the Bread

The crowd separated around me, all my peers turned to look at me. I stepped forward and started to walk up to the stage trying to keep my face carefully blank. I felt like a deer walking towards the butchering knife.

I stepped up onto the platform, Effie gestured for me to come to the center where she was, "Are there any volunteers?" The crowd was, of course, silent. I looked out at the crowd and saw Gavin staring up at me, but the second he saw me looking at him, he looked down. I knew there was no way my brother would volunteer for me. I wouldn't expect him to in general and our mother would never allow it. So I stood there, staring straight forward, waited for Effie to realize that no one was going to follow in Katniss's footsteps.

Finally she seemed to accept there would be no more excitement and the Mayor stepped forward to read the Treaty of Treason as he does every year. I glanced over to the opposite side of the stage where the grey-eyed girl I had paid attention to for as long as I can remember but never spoken to. I caught her eye for just a second and the expression in them made me wonder if she was thinking of the same thing I was.

It was about 5 years ago. There had been some deaths in the mines a few months previously and I knew her dad had been one of them. I had always watched her. I don't know why. Something about her was so intriguing. I kept tabs on her even though I had never talked to her.

I remember the day as clearly as if it were yesterday. It was late afternoon and dark as night, freezing rain was falling from the sky in rapid sheets that stabbed into your skin like icy knives. I had the benefit of staying inside most of the day near the warm ovens helping my mother bake bread.

As I crossed the room carrying bread from the cooling racks to the front sale shelves, I glanced out the window and saw her. Kathness, I thought her name was at the time. She was opening our garbage bin. I could barely see her through the rain, but I could see she was drowning in a hunting jacket that must have been her father's. Her face was white as snow and her dark hair was drenched and plastered to her face. She looked hollow and desperate. I watched her for just a moment long enough for my mother to catch me. She swore under her breath at the sight and stormed to the door.

"Move on, girl! Do you want me to call the Peacekeepers? I'm sick of you little brats coming through my trash. Have you no pride or manners? Get out before you receive more than you bargained for."

I watched from behind my mother's face as the girl shirked back looking embarrassed and angry even in her obviously weakened state. My mother slammed the door cursing and swearing that they should send these brats to the orphanage then screamed at me to take the bread out of the oven.

I said nothing as I crossed back over to the ovens. I looked at the two perfect loaves, golden and smelling like heaven. I wondered if those two loaves would be enough to keep the grey-eyed girl's family alive. I wondered why we were allowed to have so much food around us and not help out those who needed it. Without another thought, I knocked the loaves into the fire, scorching them beyond repair.

Clark stood near me and whistled, "You're going to get it now."

I pronged the loaves out of the fire, looking behind to see if my mother had noticed yet, "What is taking you so long, boy?"

She turned around and looked at me, "What did you do?! Those were perfect! You stupid child."

I cringed as I knew what was coming. She snatched the bread paddle from my hand and slapped me across the face as hard as she was able to. I bit back the tears as I grabbed the loaves up from the cooling rack. They were still hot, but I needed to make sure I grabbed the loaves before my mother did. The burns on my arms hurt, but not as badly as my face stung.

"I'm sorry. Do you want me to throw them away, mother?" I asked as quietly as I could.

"Feed it to the pig, you stupid creature! Why not? No one will buy burned bread!"

I walked outside trying to stay out of the rain and started to tear off the burned crusts and toss them toward the pig pen. I said a silent thank you to whoever came into the store at the moment causing my mother to walk back to the front. I glanced back toward my mother, making sure she wasn't watching, and I stepped out into the rain.

The freezing sleet stung my face even more and I tried hard not to express how much pain I was in. Glancing back one more time, I threw the first loaf near the girl's feet, then the second one. I made sure not to look at her as I turned around and ran back inside slamming the door behind me.

I leaned against the door holding my face in pain. Gavin smirked at me, "Clumsy. Mom says you aren't eating today to make up for the money you lost."

I shrugged, trying to cover the hunger pains swirling in my stomach. It was worth it. I wasn't going to eat for a day to save that girl's life. I didn't regret it.

My flashback ended and I subconsciously put my hand to my face, feeling the pain again. My mother hit me a lot as a child, but I don't remember her ever hitting me as hard as she did that day. My face and eye were black and blue for over a week. I wondered if she remembered any of that. If she even knew that was me.

As the speech finished, the Mayor made Katniss and I shake hands. Her hands were cold and strong, just like her eyes. But for one second, emotion flickered in those grey eyes I had been so obsessed with as a child, and as the Anthem began, I knew two things.

The first thing was she knew exactly who I was and in her eyes, she almost seemed to resent me for it.

The second thing was more important. There was no way I could let her die in that arena. Even if it meant my death. I didn't know what it was about her. But I promised myself that I would not let her die.