Author's Notes: Hola! Remember when I said in my profile that I wasn't exactly a first-time fanfiction writer? Well... I started our writing for a Hunger Games Fan Fiction website a few years back and I found the file, but forgot the site. Whoops. =))

So instead, I'm posting it here and I will try to update when I have free time, just like the other stories. ;)

Forgive me if there are some amateur stuff thurr. I wrote chapters 1-3 (?) when I was around 13. -)

Enjoy and review! :-bd

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. It belongs to the one and only Suzanne Collins. If I did own it, though, I would have them have English accents instead of Southern. T.T

I. The Reaping

I swing over to the Hob to meet him. Normally, we don't meet there, but today's different. Today's the day that twelve-through-eighteen year olds should dread, but the Capitol forces to celebrate. The day where odds are not in anyone's favor. Today's the day of the reaping.

"Hey, Katniss!" he shouts from across the pathway. Everyone at the Hob stares at him.

"No need to shout so loud, Peeta." I say, giggling as he realizes he has done something embarrassing.

Peeta and I have been friends since we were eleven. Since my father died, my mother seemingly died as well from her sorrow. I took charge of the family since my mother looked like she won't be able to revive from this nightmare and my sister, Prim, was only seven. Months passed and the money given to my mother to start her apothecary business was long gone. I tried hunting outside the fence, but I mostly end up with a small bird or a small rabbit.

We were all starving to death. If I could just hold out until May 8th, I thought, I can sign up for the tesserae. One rainy day,I tried to trade Prim's threadbare baby clothes to the merchants in the public market. No one would take them. I tried looking into the trash cans outside the houses, but no luck. The smells of the food coming from the stalls drift me to a daydream about the times when my father use to sit beside me and Prim by a fire eating soup to warm us up. The only thing that brings me back to reality is the icy fingers of the rain going down my back.

As I was looking inside the trash can of the baker, a pudgy woman, the baker's wife, screams at me and tells me to go away. She mumbles about the kids who try to steal her trash and leave a mess of rotten dough all over the street. A little boy, who looks about my age, tries to peak from behind his mother's back. I tried to run away as far as I could, but I only have so much energy. I sit next to a pig sty, hoping that I will be able to survive. But at the exact same moment, my thoughts are disrupted by a loud shriek and a smack coming from the baker's house.

I see the door open, the little boy with a huge red mark on his face and two burned loaves of bread in his hands. What did he hit him with, I thought. His mother's shouting at him, telling him to throw the loaves to the pigs. He slowly throws the burnt bits of the bread into the sty, not even catching my glance. I even thought I was almost invisible. As his mother returns to the house, the boy threw the two loaves of bread in my direction and ran inside. I sat there, in awe of the bread. I ran home and ate a loaf of the hearty bread with my family.

The next day was a school day, so Prim and I headed off for school. The only thing I could think about is the boy and the bread that gave me hope. Did he burn them on purpose? I saw the boy in class, face swollen where his mother hit him. His friends were asking him about his swollen cheek. Once he was sitting alone, I walked over and sat next to him.

"You burned the loaves on purpose, didn't you?" I said.

"Yeah. Sorry if they seemed too tough." He said shyly as he fiddles with his fingers.

"Don't worry. They were perfect. Minus the burns." He gives a little laugh. "Why would you do that? You don't even know me that well."

He looks back at his fingers and mumbles, "It didn't matter. You looked starving and I wanted to help you. Plus, I want to know you."

"Well here, let me start. My name's Katniss Everdeen." I hold out my hand.

"Peeta Mellark. Nice to meet you." He gives my hand a soft squeeze.

We've been really close friends ever since. We've taught each other a few things as well. I taught him how to hunt, while he taught me how to make a decent loaf of bread with our oil and grain rations. We hang out at school, but I stayed away from his friends. So now we just hang out at the Hob.

"Look what I've got." Peeta holds up a plastic bag with peppermint candies inside. We only buy those for special occasions. Like today.

"You must've saved up for those." Considering candy is a luxury almost no one can afford in District Twelve.

"I've got my sources." Peeta says with a grin. "Happy Hunger Games, Katniss!" He opens the bag of peppermints as he suddenly falls into a Capitol accent. "And may the odds..."

He throws a piece of candy and I catch the sweet, minty treat in my mouth. "...be ever in your favor!" We both laugh because the Capitol accent is so affected, almost anything sounds funny in it.

We talk about our families, what they're thinking about today, and he asks how Prim will take her first reaping. I'm not even sure of that answer myself, but I don't think she's anywhere near excited. We all aren't, but since it's a "holiday" we have to at least pretend we're happy. He mentions a few things, but they were blocked out by thoughts of Prim.

We say goodbye to each other and meet up at the square at two. Since we're both sixteen, we stayed in the roped area near the seventeen-year-olds. I brought Prim to the area of the twelve-year-olds at the back of the crowd. It seems like there are more children than ever this year.

The usual events happen. Mayor Undersee states the dull history of Panem, how it came from the ashes of a place once called North America and why we have to celebrate the game. Once he finishes, he stares at the empty seat that's been empty since the start of the ceremony, then calls Effie to step up on the platform to draw the names of the tributes this year. "Happy Hunger Games everyone! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" I catch a glimpse of the bystanders as they bet on whoever's name will be cast. "Ladies' first!" She takes her time to pick a name from the ball and finally picks out a name.

I'm frozen in shock from the name that escapes Effie's lips. It's the name I've heard a dozen times. The name of the person who comforts me when I'm not able to catch game for food. The only person who cries before she knows the reason why I'm crying. The name I'll miss the most if she dies.

It's Primrose Everdeen.

So what do you think? Review please! :D