Disclaimer: I do use a couple direct dialogue quotes from the book in this chapter. I don't own them - I just wanted to keep it as close to the books as I could just from a different POV.

Despite what Peeta said, about these Games being the same as always, our family stills treats the days following the reaping as a mourning period. We stay inside, doors shut. I still stock the counter at the bakery and our customers offer their condolences, but there's no joy in the activity. All I can think of is somewhere, my son is being shipped off to his death.

Not right away of course. First there's the tribute parade, the interviews - time for the country to get to know the tributes. But too soon, he'll be in the arena.

On the night of the interviews, Peeta comes out on stage. They've shown us shots of the tributes in training these past few days and so far, my son looks healthier than I've ever seen him. Clearly he's been well-fed and pampered in the Capitol.

Now, it's slightly odd to see him next to Caesar Flickerman - who's been on TV so often for all our lives that he doesn't seem like a real person anymore. But the two of them sound like they've been friends all their lives. I might even find myself laughing if it weren't for the fact that tonight might be his last night alive.

Then, Caesar asks if he has a girlfriend.

I can feel everyone in the room hold their breath. His brothers glance sideways at each other. I expect Peeta to decline, to brush off the question - it's what I would do - but Caesar won't take no for an answer. So my son starts to describe his crush - a girl who hardly knew he existed until the reaping. Caesar's got the audience involved now, telling my son that when he wins, this girl will have to go out with him.

"I don't think it's going to work out. Winning… won't help in my case," my son says, looking sad. I realize what's coming and I can tell by the looks on my family's faces that they do too.

"Why ever not?" Caesar is clearly baffled. A victor usually has their pick of the litter. Lovers from the Capitol, the districts - everyone wants to be their significant other.

There's a long pause and then - "Because… because she came here with me."

The ax falls, the blows sinks in and the Capitol audience erupts. The cameras smash cut to Katniss Everdeen's face - bright red and looking anywhere but the camera. I can tell by the confusion that she wasn't aware of Peeta's infatuation with her. Poor girl.

My wife sniffs. "I don't know why everyone's so shocked - anyone with eyes can tell he's mad for that piece of Seam trash. I didn't even know what her face looked like until the Capitol cleaned the grime off it."

I realize that my son's is probably one of the most memorable interviews of the night. Maybe our son does stand a chance in these Games after all - at least for a bit. Because this announcement is sure to have gained him a few sponsors and those silver parachutes may be the difference between life and death for Peeta.

"That's sure to get them sponsors," my son echoes my thoughts. "I mean, besides the beasts from Eleven and Two, I can hardly remember anyone else."

"Well, there was that girl from One…" his brother lets out a long whistle. "Why even bother putting clothes on?"

"But Peeta could totally take her. I mean, in the arena, it won't matter who's the sexiest, right?"

"You boys are forgetting where we live. Twelve doesn't ever win the Games. If they're lucky, they'll make it past the bloodbath tomorrow, but don't count on it. Believe me. I know." My wife turns her face away, staring out at the dusk.

Her eyes follow the road, stained black with coal dust, as it winds off into the rest of town. I know she's thinking about her older brother, the community home that raised them, and that awful morning at the Cornucopia the day he died. Tomorrow our son will be in a similar situation - another Games, another arena. Only one person will come out alive and, like it or not, she's right. It won't be Peeta. Twelve doesn't win. We don't train tributes and most of us don't bet on them. We just live from one year to the next praying the name that comes out of the bowl isn't our kid.

I knew it before, but suddenly there's not a doubt in my mind. The Hunger Games are despicable. They take people we love - brothers, friends, sons - and end their lives for entertainment. How do we live in a world like this?