The Hunger Games - Peeta's POV

Chapter Two - A Reaping Like No Other

My eyes dart open, and it feels like they will pop out if I don't hold them in. I'm sure plenty of other people will be having these nightmares. Especially today. I climb down the rickety stairs, sickened by the constant smell of cooking bread. I cross the room, and sit down at the ash covered table. Coryl, my brother, sets a slice of bread in front of me, along with a small amount of goat cheese. Once I finish breakfast, I go back upstairs, and get dressed into an old shirt, that District 12 would call fancy. It was still a bit ashy, but I brushed it off, and left the house.
The streets from the Merchant section are no different than the one in the Seam. It is covered with a permanent layer of ash, something the peacekeepers learnt when they spent countless days trying to scrub the mess. I head to the town square, lost in the crowd of scared 16 year olds. We all eventually make it there, and file into a single line. I wait until I reach the front table, which is manned by a peacekeeper, armed with a device to take our blood. The peacekeeper takes a sample of mine, and places the droplets on a square that reads "Mellark, Peeta.". The peacekeeper lets me through, and I join my place in the crowd of 16 year old boys. We all wait anxiously, waiting for the reaping to start. The parents make a collective barrier around the square, hands joint, and watch the children wait. Eventually, Effie Trinket takes the stage. Her hair is paraded in a puffy white wig, her dress so tight that everyone can see the small fails in a recent surgery. She talks in an up-beat tone, as always, and introduces herself.
"Welcome, welcome! To the District 12 reaping of the 74th annual Hunger Games!" she is only answered with a steady silence.
"Before we start, I would like to share a very special movie, brought to you from the Capitol!" The movie is projected onto the mayor's house, which stood behind Effie Trinket. It is finished quickly though, and Effie proceeds to the microphone.
"Now time to pick the honourable tributes. As always, ladies first." She stalks over to the large reaping bowl, clearly labeled on the side with "FEMALE". The bowl is filled to the brim with ballets, mostly with unnecessary papers, only put in there from the desperate need of tesserae. I never truly needed to get tesserae, but everyone in District 12 always needed it. I was lucky enough to have a steady loaf of stale bread and treats put on the table. Effie pulls out a ballet, walks over to the microphone, and opens it.
"The District 12 female tribute is Primrose Everdeen." Where have I heard that name before? Oh, yes, she is sisters with Katniss Everdeen. The girl with the dandelion. The girl with the bow. The girl with the two braids. I have countless names for her. She gives my father squirrels, always shoots them in the eye, as to not puncture the body. Primrose walks shakily towards the stage, walking down the aisle that separates the boys and the girls. The crowd shifts, as it always does when a 12 year old is chosen. Out of no-where, Katniss appears out of the crowd.
"Prim! Prim!" she shrieks, peacekeepers already stumbling to her side. They grab her, pulling her away from Primrose.
"No! No! I volunteer!" she pushes the peacekeepers away with a firm nudge. She composes herself, and says once more in a more certain voice. "I volunteer as tribute." Effie seems to be startled by the quick chain of events, and lends a hand to Katniss. She doesn't take it. Instead she walks up the steps, her face in a scowl, obviously trying to stay strong for the cameras. Already thinking about how she would look in front of the Capitol.
"It seems like we have our first volunteer! And now for the boys." I am sure my name will not be called. It is in there 5 times, no extra tesserae. But of-course, with my luck, one of the five ballets that has my name on it is chosen. The boys that stood next to me gave me space, feeling sorry for me, and also relieved that the situation was not reversed. Of course, Coryl doesn't volunteer from me. No-one volunteers for me. How stupid, how hated I must seem. Picked after a girl who volunteered for her helpless sister, comes me, who no-one loves enough to volunteer for. What do I do? How do I react to this? I try to do what Katniss would do - think about the cameras. But instead, I freeze up. My feet seem to take me to the stage. I stand beside Katniss, her eyes a with a tint of red, on the verge of tears. We shake hands, hers cold from fear, mine hot from anger. Anger at Coryl, which is stupid. I am not going to survive this arena. How would I ever kill anyone? How would I ever kill the girl with the dandelion?