DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the Hunger Games characters I am writing this purely for my enjoyment. All Hunger Games characters belong to Suzanne Collins.

--

My name is Peeta Mellark and I live in District 12. Today is reaping day, where 2 unfortunate children will be sent off to the Capitol to fight for their lives in the Hunger Games. If you win, you get unlimited fame and riches. Lose? Death. And not just any normal death. Most deaths in the games are caused from being stabbed to death or being assaulted by another tribute. Like every reaping day that I could remember, I woke up to the sound of my mother screaming at me.

"It's reaping day!", she yells, "I'm off to the train station to go get some more supplies. There are a lot of orders to get done today. Hurry up and get out of bed."

When I rose out of bed, and I trudged down the steps into the bakery, my father was placing fresh loaves of bread out onto the counter to be packaged. There was a knock at the door and he went to go answer it. I peeked through the window and saw him with the hunting boy, Gale. He walked back inside with a squirrel.

"We can add this to dinner," He said and shut the door.

I saw my brothers kneading dough for new bread. My job was always the same every day: to frost the cakes and cookies. I would also carry the sacks of four from the train station to the bakery, but I wouldn't consider it my job because it was my least favorite task. It was more like a chore.

I headed straight to my worktop to begin. I had to frost 50 cookies and 15 cakes. Easy enough. I finished in 2 hours and the deserts looked delicious. I longed to have one, but I knew that mother would yell. I decided to have a leftover piece of bread with nuts and berries in it. It was stale, but still good enough to eat. Here in District 12, food was rare to come around unless you were a merchant. Lucky for me, my parents owned a store so that we weren't living in the Seam, the poorest part of the District.

It was rare for me to have fresh baked goods, but I knew today there would be a feast. On reaping day, after the tributes are chosen, many people go back to their homes to celebrate that their children weren't sent off to the Capitol this year. My parents saved up enough spare money to let us have a few loaves of bread for tonight. But first, I just have to get through the reaping.

--

*2 reviews for the next chapter!*