The day starts just like any other. I stretch carefully so as not to disturb Prim but I find her side of the bed empty and cold. She must have had a bad dream and climbed into our mother's bed.
I'm not surprised if she did, this is no ordinary day. This is the day of the reaping.
Although her name won't be in the ball for another year, I know she worries about me and the number of entries I have.
The reaping system is unfair and even worse for the poor. You became eligible as soon as you turn twelve. In that year your name is entered once. At thirteen twice and so one until you reach eighteen, the final year of the reaping eligibility. In that year your name goes into the pool seven times. If you survive the last reaping you get to live the rest of your life in fear and hunger like most of the populace in the district, but at least you are safe from having a painful and public death.
Anyway, if you're a normal kid, at the age of eighteen you'll have seven entries with your name on it at the reaping. However, poor kids, like myself, can opt to add their name more times in exchange for tesserae. Each tessera is worth a meagre year's supply of grain and oil for one person. Per year you can ask for one tessera per each family member. So, once I turned twelve I had my name entered four times, one because I had to and three more for a portion of grain and oil for me, my sister and my mother. I had to do this every year since then and because tesserae are cumulative, this year my name will be in the reaping pool sixteen times. Of course, other kids in the seam have it worse, but my odds are still far less favorable than the merchant kids who don't need to take out tesserae.
I lift myself from bed and confirm that my little sister is curled up next to my mother, both of them sleeping peacefully.
Laying at Prim's feet is buttercup – the world´s ugliest cat. He hates me, probably because I once tried to drown him in a bucket. The last thing I needed was another mouth to feed, but Prim begged so hard I had to let him stay.
Sliding of bed and into my hunting boots, I put on a shirt, tuck my long hair into a braid and grab my forage bag.
On my way to the door, I take the perfect little goat's cheese wrapped in basil leafs left to me by Prim. Her gift to me on this reaping day.
I slip outside and make my way through the Seam, the name given to this part of town, and into the meadow.
Surrounding the meadow and keeping us all safely inside district twelve, is a high chain-link fence topped with barbed-wire loops. It is supposed to be electrified twenty-four hours a day to keep the predators away and us inside. But since we're lucky to get 2 hours of electricity a day it's usually turned off. Nonetheless, I always take a few seconds to listen for the hum made by the electricity traveling through the wire. I can't hear a thing so I quickly slide under a loose chunk of wire.
As soon as I reach the tree line, I retrieve the bow and arrows, my father made me, from a hollow log.
Many dangers roam these woods, but some of those same dangers are also food if you know where to find them.
These woods were how my father fed our family and he taught me some of what he knew before he was blown to bits in a mine explosion. I was only eleven when I was left fatherless and with a family to feed. Four year later I still wake up screaming for him to run…
Even though entering the woods is illegal, I have no other choice if I want to put food on the table. I venture deeper in, heading for the meeting place I share with the only person I can be myself with. Gale.
Like mine, Gale's father also died in the explosion and he too, being the eldest son, was left with the arduous task of feeding his family. It's harder for him, for he has a family of five to feed. I only have 3.
"Hey Catnip" he says as soon as he hears me coming. My name is Katniss, but when I first met him, he thought I said Catnip and so the name stuck.
"Look at what I shot" he shows me a loaf of freshly baked bread with an arrow stuck in it. I laugh. It's a real bakery bread not the poor imitation we make with the grain from the tesserae – What a catch!
I take it into my hands "Mm, it's still harm" smells incredibly delicious, but a bread like this must have cost a fortune, "How much did you pay for this?"
"Just a squirrel, I guess the baker was feeling soft this morning" he shrugs.
"We all feel a little closer today, don't we?" I don't really expect an answer from him and I don't get it either. "Prim left us a gift too" I take the cheese out of my bag.
"Thank you, Prim, we'll have a delicious feast" He then changes to a Capitol accent as he mimics Effie Trinket, district twelve's escort, the one who reads the reaping names. "I almost forgot! Happy Hunger Games!" He plucks a few berries from the bushes next to us "And may the odds" He tosses a berry in a high arc towards me. I catch it mid-flight and break it with my teeth, making the sweetness of the berry spread through all my tongue. "- be ever in your favor" I finish the sentence.
We then gorge ourselves with the bread, cheese and berries we have collected before taking off to another morning of hunting.
First, we check the snares we left the day before, I don't actually have a knack for setting snares but Gale is a real master. So, I let him reassemble them while I shoot some squirrels and rabbits.
Wanting to put up a special dinner for our families, we walk to the lake, a special place where my father used to take me and where he taught me how to swim. There, I manage to catch a few fishes.
After the reaping, everyone is supposed to celebrate and a lot of people do, grateful that their children were spared another year. But for two families in the district, tonight will be no celebration. Tonight, they'll lose a son or a daughter and will be forced to watch them fight to death alongside 23 other children for the Capitol's amusement.
Overall, we get a good some of game, a dozen fish, greens and strawberries. As we have to be at city center by two we leave the woods sooner than we otherwise would.
On our way home, we pass by the hob to make some trades. The hob is an old coal warehouse long deactivated which is now used as the town's black market.
When I was younger, my father used to take me every time he came in to make his trades. After he died it took me a while until I was ready to enter it again, this time alone. And even a little bit longer for the flocks to trade with me. Little by little I managed to start making deals with them, most of them due to the respect and trust they still had for my father.
We manage to trade 6 of the fish and two the rabbits with Greasy Say, a bony old lady famous for the soups she sells.
Half of the strawberries are sold to the mayor, who has a special fondness for them.
We trade outside his house, where his daughter Madge opens the door and slides a couple of coins in both our hands. She's in my year at school. Being the mayor's daughter one might think she would have tons of friends, but she just keeps to herself. Since neither of us have friends, we tend to seat together at lunch. We rarely talk which suits us both.
Today her school uniform has been replaced by an expensive white dress, with her hair being tied in a pink ribbon.
"Nice dress" Gale mocks.
Unsure if he meant it as a compliment Madge still thanks him "Well, if I end up going to the Capitol I want to look nice, don't I?"
It is Gale's time to be confused, trying to figure if Madge was mocking him "You won't' be going to the Capitol" he says in disgust. "What do you have? Four entries? I had six when I was just twelve years old"
"That's not her fault" I say pushing him forward away from Madge's house and to our next stop.
"No, it's no one's fault, just the way it is"
We trade all our squirrels for some bread with the baker and start heading back to the seam.
Gale and I divide our spoils, leaving two fish, a couple of loaves of good bread, greens, a few handfuls of strawberries, salt, paraffin and a bit of money for each of us.
"See you in the square" I say.
"Wear something nice" he winks.
I enter my house and find my mother and sister ready to go. Mother is wearing a fine dress from her apothecary days and Prim an old dress I've grown out of.
A tub of warm water waits for me, I do my best to scrub all the dirt and sweat out of me and even wash my hair.
As always, my mother has laid an old dress for me to wear and helps me dry and braid my hair.
Leaving the fish and greens I've caught cooking in a stew for toning, the three of us leave the house.
We reach the square at one o'clock and I separate from my mother and Prim who take their places in the audience. Attendance is mandatory unless you are dead or close to dying. Even then all houses are inspected by officials and if you are lying you'll go to prison.
The electable kids, like myself, file into line and sign in. We are then separated by age and gender and filed into lines facing the stage.
I search for Gale in the crowd who winks at me once he sees me.
Effie is already on stage and so is the mayor, the only person missing is our very own sole victor Haymitch Abernathy, a paunchy, middle-aged man, who spends most of his time drunk and provides entertainment for anyone who finds a drunk man falling funny.
When the town clock strikes two, the mayor leaves his seat and walks to the microphone. As every year he begins to read the same story. He tells the story of Panem, the rebellion, the misery and near extermination that came out of it and finally the Hunger Games. A punishment to show the districts what the rebellion got us.
The rules of the Hunger Games are simple: 24 tributes, a boy and a girl aged 12 to 18 from each district go in, to fight to death. In the end, the sole survivor is crown the victor and is given a house and more money they can spend for the rest of their life.
Once the mayor returns to his seat Effie trinket, wearing an obnoxious overly complicated pink dress, takes the stage and it's time for the drawing.
Effie trinket says as always "ladies first" and enters her hand in the girl's name's ball. From the second she reaches the strands of paper to the second she slowly walks back to the microphone and opens the paper in her hand I'm praying for it not to be my name.
Please let it not be me, not be me, not be me…
And it isn't "Nelly Wildsnow"
A girl who can't be more than thirteen stands in the crowd and makes her way to the stage. As mandatory Effie asks for any volunteers, but as always nobody steps forward.
"And now for the boys" she does the same dance as before, I wish for Gale's safety just before she read the name on the paper.
It's not Gale, no, it's a million times worse.
"Peeta Melark"
Not him, not him, is all I can think about. I recognize that name all too well, even though I never spoken directly to its owner.
But it is him, some camera zooms in on his face and I watch him make is way to stage, medium height, stocky build, ashy blond hair that falls in waves over his head.
As he stands next to Effie I can see that he's trying to remain emotionless, but in he's eyes I see instability.
She calls for volunteers, but no one steps forward. He has two older brothers, I know this because I've seen them in the bakery, one's probably to volunteer and the other won't. This is ordinary as family devotion only goes so far on reaping day.
Both tributes shake hands and take a seat. The mayor begins to read the treaty of treason, but I'm not listening a word.
All I can think about is how unjust this all thing is, they have reaped the only person in the district who truly doesn't deserve to die.
Why him? I think when they are escorted inside the justice building. Should I go visit? Should I say goodbye? I owe him so much and I didn't even have the courage to thank him.
I'm so taken back with what happened that I don't notice the square has been cleared and Prim and mother have come to collect me and take me home.
"Another year safe, thank God" my mother lets out.
Somehow, I don't feel like I'm safe, somehow, I feel the worst is yet to come. I don't know how I'll watch Peeta die.
I wish he would survive, I still need to thank him for saving my life. But I know there's no way, sweet, innocent Peeta will get out of that arena alive. Not with that excuse of a victor we have, nop, Peeta is completely alone.
I make some excuse about not feeling good to my mother and sister and spend the rest of the day in the woods.
It surprises me how much it affected me to see him walking to the stage and out of the district. To know I'm never going to see him again, that I'm never going to be able to thank him for saving my baby sister's life.
This makes no sense, better him than me, right?
I sigh leaving the question unanswered.
With the sun threatening to set and not wanting to worry, even more, my mother and sister, I decide to return home, where I arrive just in time for dinner.
We eat in silence, with me trying to remain neutral to today's events. Although no one is speaking, it's possible to feel that the mood is far lighter than it was yesterday. For my mother and sister, we just gained another year where our family will be still together.
I help my mother and sister cleaning the dinner table and then we all seat in the small, two-people couch in from of the tv to review today's reapings.
Although I certainly don't want' to relive Peeta's name being called, the games and all around them are of mandatory viewing and more importantly I don't want to tip my mother and sister off to the fact that I wasn't indifferent to the chosen male tribute for our district.
As Caesar Flikerman and Claudius Templesmith, the Hunger Games hosts, salute the viewers and replay today's reapings, I can't seem to prevent myself from evaluating Peeta's competition.
The career districts produce 6 strong looking and relatively well-fed volunteers. The remaining districts go by in a blur and before I know it, there's Effie on tv.
I watch as a Seam looking girl takes the stage. I was so relived it wasn't my name and then so shocked to hear Peeta's I never got the chance to really look at the girl.
Nelly Wildsnow was unknown to me until today. She must be 13 years old, although she looks much younger. Most Seam kids do, due to the lack of food and health conditions.
Like most kids at the reaping she's crying before Effie even says her name, she knows she doesn't have a chance.
Already knowing the outcome, I watch Effie extract and announce Peeta's name from the reaping ball. The camera quickly finds him in the crowd, as all the kids near him shun like he's some kind of infectious disease. He doesn't get that affect him though, he takes the stage head held high and acknowledges Effie.
She makes both tributes shake hands and I could swear Peeta offers a kind smile to the girl, maybe to make her stop crying. I can see in his face his trying hard not to let the tear out.
"My, my, the male tribute from district 12 is quite an attractive gentleman, don't you think?" Caesar Flikerman asks his co-host. "I bet he won't have problems in finding female sponsors"
Claudius laughs and nods but doesn't actually respond. With nothing else to say, both hosts say goodnight and the tv goes black.
This is the first of two flashback chapters written in Katniss' point of view.
I hope you have enjoyed the first chapter and i'm sorry for the long wait.
Thank you for reading,
Catarina