--» 𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 «--

Chapter One

I start at the sound of clanging utensils in the kitchen. My eyes flutter open, every part of me dreading the day ahead. Today is the reaping. Although the odds are in my favor, I can't help the nervous sweat that breaks out on my forehead as I think about the large, cement square filled with the innocent children of District 12. The two large, glass bowls packed with slips that bear their names, one of which readying to be drawn from each. Because we do not need tesserae, my name is in the bowl only five times. Even still, I'm not able to shake the feeling of worry that overtakes my body. I rub my eyes, slowly receding from my tarnished bed.

As I reach the door that leads to the kitchen, I see a customer at the counter, buying fresh bread from my father. I recognize the face, one that I've often longed to be the owner of. It belongs to Gale. Katniss's best friend. Maybe even more than a just friend. I see them walking to the woods each Sunday, wanting to be the one by her side instead of him. Every time they pass, laughing at one another's jokes, I feel a wave of sadness rush through me. I recall the time I gave her the bread, which I'm sure she's long forgotten.

It was pouring, but the smell of warm breads and cakes in the bakery still kept customers coming. The bell, ringing every time a customer stepped through the rackety door. The day went by fast with the business we got. My mother and I were baking bread for the next day when I saw her. Bony and weak, laying against the side of a tree. She was near death, and I couldn't bear the sight. My mother saw my eyes staring at the girl through the window and ran outside to shoo her away. But she was too fragile to move from the tree, which was her only support. When my mother came back inside, she saw the bread that I'd burned. Yelling and angry, she smacked my face with the back of her hand and told me to feed it to the pigs, insisting a customer would never eat the slightly charred bread. So, I did as she said. I walked out the door and tore off a few pieces for the hogs, and tossed it in their pen. Katniss stared, observing the substantial red mark my mother's hand left on my pale face. Looking behind me, confirming my mother was preoccupied with another task, I threw the bread in a puddle at her feet. Another loaf followed, making a splash that drenched her thin hunting boots. She looked at me, confused but thankful. I could see a spark in her eyes as she took the bread and stumbled away to her house in the Seam. 

I'd smiled, knowing I did something right, even if it caused me trouble.