Hunger Games (Peeta's POV)

3

We're quickly taken into custody by Peacekeepers, being led into the Justice Building, both of us sent to a room for our goodbyes. I have an hour to say goodbye to everyone I love. That feels impossibly short, yet far too long, all at the same time. I wonder who will say goodbye to me. I wonder who will care.

I work hard to keep my face wiped of any emotion, not wanting the cameras to see a hint of weakness.

The first people to enter the room are a group of my friends. We sit in silence, no one knowing what to say. It's rare for someone from town without any tessera to be reaped. Rare, but not impossible. The peacekeepers come in before a word is spoken and ushers them out, each one yelling goodbyes.

My brothers come in next. They don't say much, simply good luck. Then, my parents. My father hands me a parcel of cookies and hugs me. It's my mother that has a lot to say, "We'll finally have a victor this year, she's a fighter."

I smile for a minute, surprised that my mother thinks so highly of me. But, it's only a moment later that it hits me. She means Katniss, not me. As soon as they're forced out of the room. Tears start running down my face. My mother didn't even try to hide the fact she knows I'll die in the coming weeks.

I'm dragged from my thoughts as peacekeepers hurry me out of the room and into the halls of the Justice Building with Katniss. We're ushered into a car, the first car i've ever been in. There's simply little need for them in the District. They take us to the train station, where there will be cameras. Lot's of them. I silently curse, knowing it's clear that I've been crying.

I look to a screen to see what all of Panem is seeing to find Katniss looking bored and me looking pathetic. I know for certain I'll be the first kill of the games. I don't try and hide my tear stained cheeks, I know it'll only make things worse. At least for now, I can hope they think I'm pretending to be weak. But, soon enough they'll realize I'm not made to survive. Not like Katniss is, not like the careers are. My mother was right and even I know it.

As the train begins to move, we're given a tour. Our living quarters are nicer than any place I've seen before, I can't even begin to imagine what the capitol is like.

I find myself alone in a room, everything in it for me. I take off my clothes from home and slip into nicer slacks and a shirt. I look nice, but simple. I still look like me. That's enough to reassure me that I'll make it through the night without going crazy.

When Effie calls me to supper, I work to release my muscles that have been held so tightly since my name was called in the reaping. I walk into the dining cart to find it empty. I sit, ignoring Haymitch as he drunkenly wanders into the car. When Effie returns with Katniss, the courses begin.

The food is rich and flavor-full, nothing like the stale food I'm used to from home. After a few courses, the food is getting to me. I've never been this full before. I stop before I vomit. Katniss seems to be looking a little green as well.

When supper is over, Effie ushers us into another room to watch the recap of the reapings. I try not to imagine all but one of these children dead in a matter of weeks. That thoughts enough for the bile to rise up in my throat again. I choke it down, watching as I know I have to. There's no other choice. Strategically, the games start now.

Our reaping is almost impossible to watch. It hurt the first time to see Prim reaped and Katniss volunteer, the second time it physically pains me to listen to with my eyes closed. I open them in time to see my name being called. I watch the grim faces of the crowd this time, still working to forget that this is the last time I'll ever see them.

"Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behavior," squeaks Effie in her capitol accent. That's enough to get me. I start laughing, hard. It's Haymitch, he's drunk every year. It's a constant and it's funny. I can't stop the laughter erupting from my chest.

"He was drunk, he's drunk every year," I remind her.

"Everyday," chimes in Katniss, smirking.

Effie quickly says something horrible, as she always does. Reminding us that he's our lifeline in the games. She quickly sentences us to death with our laughter. As she exits, Haymitch enters. Without warning, he vomits. A mix of bile and liquor. My laughter stops as he falls into the mess. With that, the humor leaves the room, leaving us with a broken mentor and no chance of winning.