Hunger Games: the Boy with the Bread

Chapter 3

When I reached home. I went straight to my room. Later my mom walked in. Placed down a chair. Told me to sit. She took a comb and started brushing through my hair. "You look like a hot mess," she says. My face is covered in dirt. My white shirt is no longer white anymore. My hair is all messed up.

When she finished combing my hair she took a washcloth and started wiping the dirt off my face. Soon the washcloth turns black. "Peeta you're filthy," she says squeezing the washcloth trying to get it clean.

"Okay I think I got most of it off." she says. "Now go change, I laid out another outfit for you."

I lay in my bed. Gazing off in space. Lots of thoughts running through my brain. I should have handed Katniss that bread. Why didn't I hand her that bread? Instead I threw it. Then another thought pops in my head. My name won't get called right. Can't I'm only in there six times. What if my brother gets called. No that's not going to happen. I try to stop overthinking everything but I can't, my brain just keeps going. Prim what if she gets called. No wait what if Katniss gets called. I jumped up. Suddenly all of a sudden that one thought sounds like reality. Katniss is not getting called. There's too many people for Katniss to get called. I ran to the window. Seeing kids getting in line for the reaping. No it's not going to happen. She is not getting called. I don't know how many times her name is there, six? But she probably has more. I hit my head trying to not think about this anymore. I need to stop stressing myself out. Soon my mother is screaming for my name.

"Peeta, Peeta its time."

I quickly throw on the outfit my mom has laid for me leaving the same pants on. Quickly rush out the door. My brother and I walked to the square.

"Why. Why do we let them do this to us," I say to my brother.

He shrugs "I don't know. Remember nobody can overcome the power of the Capitol," he says in a mocking tone.

The stage is filled with three chairs, the Reaping bowls, and a mic. Two of the three chairs fill with Madge's father, Mayor Undersee, and Effie Trinket. Effie always seems so full of herself. Today she is wearing pinkish hair, and a spring green suit. All Capital people are so full of themselves.

Right when the clock strikes two, the mayor steps up and begins to read. Same story every year you think we understood by now. Just a bunch of nonsense. I don't listen to him. All he's talking about is how Panem was once called North America and how there was an uprising against the Capitol. Called the dark days. Thirteen did not survive. North America now known as Panem has an annual event called the Hunger Games. They make us treat it like a festival. It's a reminder to all that "no one can overcome the power of the Capitol."

Finally it's the saying we hear every year. "Look how we take your children and sacrifice them and there's nothing you can do. If you lift a finger, we will destroy every last one of you. Just as we did in District Thirteen." I don't get the Games. I don't get how people can sit and watch this for entertainment. We're humans. Were not used to kill people for entertainment.

The mayor talks more and more about the Hunger games. But I don't listen. I never do. But when he reads off the list of victors that always catches my eye. We only had two victors out of seventy-four years. That's a reminder to me that we don't stand a chance in the games. There's one victor still alive Haymitch Abernathly. He's an alcoholic. Which does not help any tribute in the Games. It's bad enough we only have one mentor. But we get a drunk one.

Soon Effie Trinkets walks toward the mic and gives her annual, "Happy Hunger games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" No the odds are not in our favor. Everyone knows that they're practically killing off two tributes. And whoever those two are, are very unlucky. So no I would say the odds are not ever in our favor.

Through the crowd I spot Delly. She looked back at me with a smile. Her smile always makes me feel better. I wish I could talk to her. Telling her she is going to be okay. But I can't.

"It's time for the drawing, ladies first," says Effie.

I take a deep breath as she crosses the glass ball with the girl's name. She places her hand softly in the bowl, digging around. She grabs one. You can feel the tension in everyone. Please don't be Delly or Katniss I think to myself.

Effie crosses back to the podium. Opens the slip of paper, and reads out a name.

"Primrose Everdeen."

You can hear the crowds sigh in relief. I sigh in relief that it wasn't Delly or Katniss. But soon the thought got to me. Everdeen. No not her. Not Prim. I can feel this awful pit in my stomach. Out of everyone it's Prim. The odds were ever in her favor. Her name only being in there once. You can feel the sorrow in everyone. Knowing their sending a twelve year old in the Games. But before I can comprehend everything that just happened, my brother grabs my attention. "Look what is she doing?" he says.

"Prim!" Katniss cries. She yells again. "Prim!" I can hear the pain in Katniss's voice.

The crowd goes silent. Everyone staring at Katniss. I look at Delly confused. She shrugs with tears in her eyes.

Katniss pushes her sister behind her. "I volunteer, I volunteer." she gasps. Trying to pull away from the peacekeepers. "I volunteer as tribute."

I look at my brother. "Can she do that." this strangled cry comes out of my throat.

"I don't know. We never had a volunteer."

I can see the confusion on the stage. Confusion in everyone. "I believe we have a volunteer. District twelves very first volunteer." says Effie Trinket

Prim wraps her arms around Katniss screaming hysterically.

"No Katniss! No! You can't go!" Prim cries.

"Prim let go." Katniss says harshly.

Soon Gale starts storming back and through the crowd. Pushing me out of the way. He lifts up Prim who is thrashing in his arms.

This can't be happening. My mouth drops. Katniss is going into the Games. And there's nothing I can do. I never even got a chance to talk to her. Or tell her how I feel. Now I feel this awful regret that I never took the time to sit with her at lunch. Cause now it's too late and I might not even see her again. Katniss walks up to the stage. Effie grabs her and positions her on stage.

"Well, Bravo! That's the spirit of the Games!" Effie gushes.

They ask Katniss her name. This is when we're supposed to clap. Not one person claps. But I feel broken. This never happened before. A girl from the hob has saved her sister but we all know she won't survive. This has nothing to do with my being in love with Katniss. No one has ever done this. She simply showed me how important family is. So instead of clapping I touch the three fingers of my left hand to my lips and hold it out to Katniss. Soon little by little the crowd follows. Till everyone does it. This simply showed thanks, admiration, and goodbye to someone you love.

I take a deep breath. A lot is happening on stage. But I'm not focused. I can feel the blood drained in my face as I squeeze my hands tightly.

"What an exciting day!" gushes Effie. Total opposite for me. All I want to do is grab Katniss off that stage. But I know I can't. Like they say, "Look how we take your children and sacrifice them and there's nothing you can do."

"It's time to choose our boy tribute!" Effie yelped.

Before I can have time to wish my brother good luck she drops her hand in the glass bowl. She moves the names around. Digging deep through the paper. Finally picked one. My heart is pounding. Soon two words slip out her mouth. As she reads the boy tribute of District Twelve.

"Peeta Mellark."