Chapter Two
"I volunteer!" She gasps. "I volunteer as tribute!"
"Lovely!" Wrong. There's not one thing about this that is lovely. But, Effie continues. "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 trails off, unsure of herself.
"What does it matter?" Asks the Mayor. He's probably feeling a bit of remorse for losing such a fantastic girl. She supplied his beloved strawberries, after all. My pain is different... I'm losing the girl that I never had the guts to speak to. I never told her about the crush I've had on her since she was five... and I'll never get the chance to say good bye. "What does it matter?" The mayor repeats gruffly. "Let her come forward." No... make her go back home... make her stay safe.
"No, Katniss! No! You can't go!" Her little sister, Prim, screams the same things I wish I could say. Katniss just pleads for her to go... until Gale comes to take her away. I wish he would have taken Katniss away instead. I don't want to lose the beautiful girl I've loved since forever.
"Well, bravo!" Effie gushed as Katniss joined her on the platform. "That's the spirit of the Games!" She looked more than pleased with the outcome of that situation. "What's your name?"
"Katniss Everdeen." The girl of my dreams spoke in a not so steady voice. Not even in my worst nightmares, had I seen the horrific things that I was seeing now. And the Games hadn't even started yet.
"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." Effie nearly squees in delight before giving a few claps of her own.
Not a single clap is given from our District. This is not something they wanted, it never is. Then, something truly unexpected happens, and I feel compelled to follow suit. Nearly everyone in the crowd, including myself, raises three fingers of their left hands to their lips in a small kiss. Then they hold it out for her. It means thank you... I love you... good-bye. My eyes tear up as I gaze upon the girl who I'll never have the chance to love.
Haymitch chooses this time to stagger across the stage and wrap his arm around my Katniss's shoulders. "Look at her. Look at this one!" She looks like she's about to puke from the harsh smell of the liquor. "I like her! Lots of..." His eyes make it look as if he's searching for the next word to say. "Spunk!" He sounds rather triumphant. It's sickening to me. "More than you!" He lets go of her and starts to the front of the stage. "More than you!" Haymitch growls at the cameras that belong to the Capitol, almost like he's taunting them. But, the poor man loses his balance and topples off the stage. He's toed away on a stretcher, out cold.
"What an exciting day!" Effie says in a voice that hints it's the wrong kind of excitement as she fixes her wig, which has fallen severely to the right. You can tell she's trying hard to get the ball rolling once more while making sure her hair still looks fabulous. It's ridiculous to me. "But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!"
She walks over to the boy's orb, taking small clipped steps to avoid falling in her rather frazzled position. My heart no longer flutters like a butterfly, because nothing could have been worse then what had just happened. She doesn't fish around for a slip, she just picks the first one her hand encounters. She walks back to the podium before unfolding the paper, not bothering to smooth it. "Peeta Mellark!"
At first, it's like I didn't even hear what she said. I glance around, looking for the unlucky fellow that will be joining Katniss on the stage. Then I realize: Peeta Mellark is my name. I struggle to remain emotionless as I just put one foot in front of the other, trying to get up to the stage without looking panicked.
The odds are not in my favor today.
When I reach the stage, standing on the opposite side of the podium as Katniss, Effie asks for volunteers. You could hear a pin drop in the silence that goes through the audience. I have two older brothers, but one isn't illegible to volunteer and the other wouldn't. Most people aren't as devoted to their families as Katniss is. So, the silence is standard in District Twelve. Even hoping for a volunteer is stupid.
The mayor begins his Treaty of Treason speech, but I don't hear more than a few words of it. But, it doesn't really matter, since I've heard it tons of times... ever since I was old enough to comprehend what people were saying. And the story always had the same ending. Don't rise up against the Capitol. Or you'll be obliterated.
Twenty-four tributes. Only one gets out alive. Only one. I know I don't stand a chance out there. Not with the Careers, who were trained from a young age to be lethal killing machines, and not with the fact that Katniss would die looming over my head. Her and I wouldn't ever get the chance to be together, even if she returned my feelings for her. Our fates were now decided for us, at least one of us would die.
And if one of us can live, I can do my best to make sure it's her. I don't think life would be worth living without her anyways. With my mother's abuse, she was always the light in my day. Every time I saw her at school, I'd look at her and say to myself, "Peeta, you're going to marry that beautiful girl someday." And, now that day would never come.
The mayor finishes the dreary Treaty of Treason and motions for Katniss and to shake hands. Hers are slightly clammy, and shake a bit with the nerves running through her. I look right into those beautiful brown eyes and give her hand a slight squeeze, wanting to reassure her that every thing would be alright. We turn back to face the crowd as the anthem of Panem plays. It's like the final curtain call on our old lives, setting us on the path of inevitable death.
From this moment forward, even when we're up against twenty-two other tributes, I will make sure the odds are ever in her favor.
(A/N: So... If I get five more reviews by tomorrow, I'll do two more chapters by tomorrow night. I love reviews. They make me a happy writer. May the odds be ever in your favor. - Sharpie)