Chapter One: The Reaping
As my eyes adjust to the light seeping in through my window, I get the same sickly feeling I get every year. It's the Reaping. The day where 24 children, 12 to 18, get rounded up all around the country of Panem to be slaughtered by one another. Brilliant. However, my name is only in 6 times, so I highly doubt it'll be my name picked from that bowl.
My mind turns to the same thought it does every morning. It was a miserable Tuesday night with relentless rain. I was working in my parents bakery late, and I peer through the window. I saw her stumbling around barely conscious. The girl I've loved ever since I first laid my eyes on her. Katniss Everdeen. The one I stare at everyday at school, the one I think of every morning when I wake up, just like now. I thought this was the chance to make her notice me, I throw in the bread and keep a close eye on the deteriorating beauty outside as she falls into a puddle, and the bread slowly burning. My mother arrives with a firm slap around the back of my head, flinging me into the oven, "get that damn bread out, boy! Feed it to the pigs." She leaves saying terrible things under her breath. I rub the back of my head and go out into the cold where I see her lying up against a tree, squinting at me. I throw two chunks of bread to the pigs while trying to look as if I haven't seen her and turn to walk away. But her hunger and silent groans pull me back. I turn my head and throw the last piece of bread out into the rain, into the puddle by her feet. Before I embarrass myself by confessing my love for her, I turn and walk as fast as possible back into the bakery.
That memory replays in my mind every morning. It's painful seeing her in that state every time a new day arrives. But I can't bring myself to stop it.
My father calls for me to be ready in time as he's making breakfast. I shower, dress in the clothes my father has laid out for me, and continue to breakfast. My father has 2 freshly baked bread-cakes on a large circular plate with various meats and cheeses decorated around them. It's delicious. And I hope it is as it may well be the last food I have in my house in the company of my parents... Well... Parent. My mother still lays in bed with that unnatural snore she has.
Just as I'm doing my hair in the mirror, my father stands beside me with his hand on my shoulder and gives me the nod that signifies it is time.
As we approach the square, the sickly feeling in my stomach increases to a pain. A pain I try and hide from my face, with little success. The square is split into boys and girls in organised rows, girls on the right, boys on the left, and a wide tunnel-like isle down the centre. I'd hate to imagine going down there, everybody gazing at you in pity. As I'm filed into the left side of the square facing the Justice building, all I can think of is Katniss, her chances of survival today and what she's thinking of. It's certainly not me. I look out for her above the other boys heads and peer into the girls section, searching line upon line of scared teenagers.
Before I have chance to realise what is happening around me,the District 12 escort, Effie Trinket, has said the famous line "Ladies first." She waddles over to the bowl of tributes in her peculiar dress and picks out a name close to the top delicately. Her lips burst out the name.
"Primrose Everdeen." 'Everdeen!... That's Katniss's sister!' I think. The square is silent until it is filled with a beautiful voice, even when screaming. "PRIM!" I see Katniss running towards her sister, only to be blocked off by peacekeepers. I almost run in and help her myself until I realise that I am a mere stranger to her. And that I will be severely punished for interfering. She shoves away the guards. "I volunteer!" She shouts, "I volunteer as Tribute!"
My heart sinks. The girl I love, without even having the chance to make her love me back, is going into the arena, where she will certainly die. She takes uncertain steps up to the platform and Effie steadies her by her side. "Now for the boys." The sentence rings in my ears, who's gonna be the one to get to know the girl I love? And even possibly kill her?
It turns out it's going to be me. The name "Peeta Mellark" echoes through the square, stinging my ears, and stomach, and head, and heart. It sinks once more, all be it less painful than the first time, but still a terrible feel of emptiness fills me. All the boys turn to stare at me as I move up onto the platform next to Katniss, we shake hands. My first touch of her hand, her warm, sweaty hand. Mine is probably the same. Does she take this moment the same way I do? Or does she just think of me as a boy who wants to kill her? I doubt that'll ever be a question I will ask.
We are ushered through the large, wooden doors of the justice building and are sent to separate rooms.