Hunger Games (Peeta's POV)

2

The square erupts, not loudly of course. That would result in capitol interference. But, in the crowd you can feel it, the anger, the tiredness, and most of all, the confusion. There's always anger when a twelve year old is called. It's unfair. But, Prim, a district favorite, seems even more unfair. I turn towards Katniss to see a boy near her holding her up. I take a step towards Katniss at the same time Prim takes a step toward the stage. She seems to break from her trance.

"Prim," she screams, silencing the world around her. All attention is on the two girls, everyone is watching the show. One more time, she calls for her, desperation clear in her tone, "Prim!"

The kids in front of her clear a path, a path to the stage, a path to Prim.

When she reaches Prim, Prim raises her arms to hug her, but Katniss simply pushes her behind her. Her body shielding her sisters. I don't have to see her face to know her mask has slid into place, the one that hides her from the rest of us. In less than a second, the heartbreaking words leave her mouth. Words promising a death sentence in District Twelve, "I volunteer, I volunteer as tribute."

I keep my hands in tight fists, resisting the urge to do something, anything, to stop this from happening. The crowd is alive with voices, everyone whispering to their companions. The Everdeens are a well known family. Prim well liked, Mrs.Everdeen a savior, Mr.Everdeen well respected, and Katniss respected for the life she's created for her family. The district knows them, they like them, and they're hurt to lose them.

I'm brought back to reality as the confusion on stage silences everyone. There hasn't been a volunteer in decades, no one knows what to say. It seems as though they didn't bother telling Effie what to do. But, as Effie does, she works to cover her confusion by trying to correct Katniss with rules of protocol. I roll my eyes, knowing they won't make Katniss go back to watching Prim take the stage. You couldn't pay her.

"Let her come forward," says the mayor. I watch his face as he lets Katniss walk onto the stage. He looks grim. The way you look when a kid you know is certainly going to die. I block out the thoughts of death from my head, almost forgetting my fear of being reaped in all the confusion.

I wince as Prims screams fill the air, she's holding Katniss tighter than I imagined she could. There's nothing anyone can do but watch and listen. I hate everything about the capitol in that moment, in that moment I know I would do anything to stop this from happening. My anger subsides into sadness as Prim's screams are silenced. The show continues as Gale carries her off towards her family, her mother, the only person she'll have left.

I don't let myself imagine Katniss winning. I know the chances are too slim, I know I'm only breaking my own heart.

I block out Effies words, only hearing Katniss' replies. She sounds numb, distant, as though she may be dreaming.

"Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute," Trills Effie. She is met with silence. The kind of silence that carries anger. The kind of silence that I know we should avoid. Without a word of planning, everyone does touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and hold it out to her. A goodbye to someone you love.

Haymitch interrupts the whole ordeal with his drunken steps, heading towards Katniss, heading toward the cameras.

"Look at her. Look at this one! Lot's of... spunk! More than you," he shouts, gesturing wildly.

"More than you," he says, directly to the camera, directly to all of Panem. It's as though he's taunting them. Before I can make up my mind about what he's doing, he plummets off the stage.

At this point, the laughter in the crowd is hard to ignore. As everyone stares as Haymitch, I notice a lone tear be wiped off of Katniss' face with a swift movement of her hand. A moment she wanted no one to see.

"It's time to choose our boy tribute," calls Effie, trying to return the attention to her. Trying to keep everything going. My hands ball themselves into tight fists, trying to calm the shaking that seems to be coming directly from my nerves. She reads the name quickly, trying to distract everyone from Haymitch.

"Peeta Mellark."

My name, she called my name, what does it mean? My mind is slow to react. But, I know what to do, I've imagined this a hundred times, I know it's time to step forward and onto the stage. No Katniss is coming to rescue me. I look towards Katniss' face, hoping it'll be stoic enough to remind me what to do. Instead, on her face, I find a look of confusion. Does she actually recognize me?

In that moment, it clicks. Everything suddenly is clear, I'm going to die in the Hunger Games. As I climb onto the stage, I try to lock my own mask into place. Mine is less indifferent than Katniss' but still quite complete if I close my eyes. I've never been good at hiding my emotions from my eyes.

When Effie calls for volunteers, I try to hide my sadness. But, even I know that family loyalty goes only goes so far on reaping day.

I risk another glance at Katniss only to find her staring at me with an unreadable look on her face. The kind of look that leads me to believe we're thinking of the same moment, the only time I'd ever have stuck out in her memories. The day in the rain.

It was a rainy day, the best kind of day for baking, in my opinion. I was in the kitchen with my mother, preparing rolls and cakes, as we do everyday. But, this time, we were interrupted, by a rattling of our trash bins. My mother grabbed the rolling pin as she always did and went to ward off whoever was desperate enough to eat from the trash. I peaked behind my mother and saw her, Katniss. I was aware of her presence since we were kids, since my father pointed her out to me, since she sang. I knew that she probably had never even noticed me. But, I had noticed her and today was no exception to that.

I knew her father had died recently, about three months ago. But, I didn't realize how dire her situation had got. Only the desperate are willing to eat trash and even that's too desperate for most. My mother shoo'd me back into the kitchen, grumbling about the people in the district. It wasn't rare for her to say she was better than them. But, today, I didn't want to hear it.

I didn't even think before I acted. With one clear movement of the fire poker, I dropped the two loaves of bread I was cooking into the fire. I pulled them out before anymore than the crust was damaged, but the damage had been done.

"You useless boy!" screamed my mother, "No one will buy burnt bread from us. No one decent anyway!"

I headed towards the pig pen, pausing, instead throwing the loaves to Katniss. I headed inside without so much as a glance towards her.

My mothers yelling wasn't enough to make me feel regret, not even when she slapped me across the cheek. Nothing would make me regret the smile on Katniss' face as she ran off with the bread. I only saw it for a second through the window, but it was enough.

I saw her the next day at school, it was impossible not to acknowledge her, but I did my best. I could feel her eyes on me though. It was the first time I'd ever been noticed by her. We only made eye contact once that day, but it was enough for me. She had noticed me. As she looked away, her gaze must have connected with a dandelion because she picked it up and walked quickly away. That was the last time I ever saw Katniss Everdeen vulnerable. It would be in my mind forever because a part of me knows I helped her.

My thoughts are interrupted by the mayor motioning for us to shake hands. I grab Katniss' hands in my own and squeeze lightly, trying to remind her that she's not alone. Once again a look of questioning crosses her face.

We turn back towards the crowd and I look anywhere but the people. Not wanting to think about this being the last time I'll see any of them.