in which girl and boy are forced into their almost certain death. in order to live, they know one of them must die.
this is their story.
peeta mellark x julia arlock (oc)
(planning to update every 5-7 days!)
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the boy with the bread.
on the day of the reaping, i wake up with a sharp pain in my leg. i don't know where it comes from, whether it is real or merely a phantom, but with my first few steps, fire flares up my calf and thigh. cursing, i shake it off before limping toward my bedroom window. the town bustles below with all types of business. every so often, someone walks into the bakery and walks out minutes later clutching their baked goods, wrapped carefully in brown parchment paper. i take a moment to stand and watch district 12. as everyone strolls through the square, it is almost like i can feel the district breathing beneath us. lungs expanding under the ash-covered cobblestone and contracting with the footfalls of seam families, merchants, and peacekeepers.
i am knocked out of my thoughts by the screech of my name. mother. i shake the remaining weariness from my head and rush down the stairs. there is much to do today and i made the mistake of sleeping in.
today is the reaping, a day when the capitol comes to collect two unlucky children to represent district 12 in the annual hunger games. this afternoon, the lives of two families will forever be altered. the two children's names will be plucked from thousands to be sent into a battle for their lives against twenty-three other tributes. they're forced to say goodbye to friends, family, and loved ones and promise that, to the best of their ability, they will return home.
odds are they never do.
twelve has never had the best luck with the games. our citizens are mostly poor, overworked, and underfed families who can barely afford to put food on the table. meaning the children we send into the arena are skinny, weak, and afraid. they rarely make it past the first day. the last victor from twelve was haymitch abernathy, winner of the 50th hunger games. i don't remember ever seeing haymitch's games or how he won. i just know whatever it was drove him to being drunk every day for the rest of his life.
i walk down into the kitchen and throw on my apron before getting to work. the reaping day is always busy for us. families rejoice when their children are safe for another year and, drunk on giddiness, splurge on freshly baked goods. i throw myself into my work and let my mind wander.
i wonder what my friends are up to today. whether or not pine and rider have gathered the group at the meadow like last year or if they're waiting for after the reaping. i wonder if any of them are scared. i know i am.
it is noon by the time i finish with my batch of bread rolls. i curse myself for oversleeping. i won't have much time to see friends before we have to go to the square. i take a quick bath, towel dry my hair, and throw on the outfit my mother approved the night before; a white button-down paired with dark trousers and a thin brown belt. i roll up my sleeves and run out the door, yelling a quick goodbye to my parents. i'll meet them in the square later.
just as i suspected, a small group of my friends has gathered in the long grass next to the fence cutting off the district from the woods. delly is laughing at something pine says when she squeals at the sight of me.
"peeta! we thought you weren't going to make it."
"sorry, i got stuck in the bakery for a while," i apologize sheepishly. everyone merely shrugs before turning back to what they were doing. i look around to see who's here. aster is tossing a small ball back and forth with pine while rider jumps in the middle, trying to catch it. delly sits next to two of her friends, crysta and marin. i don't know either very well but when they catch me looking, they smile brightly. i blush and give them a small wave. i sit down in the grass and watch the other boys play their game. it's then that i tune in on their conversation.
"we all know it's gonna be two seam kids again," rider laughs as he jumps in front of pine. "it always is."
so i guess the answer is no. my friends are not worried.
"my money's on gale hawthorne or harlow morbrooke for the male tribute. i heard they have like fifty entries this year."
the girls let out cries of disagreement and we all turn to stare. marin is the one to break the awkward silence. "what? they're nice to look at."
pine rolls his eyes and returns back to the game. crysta continues, "i never thought i'd be jealous of katniss everdeen and julia arlock but what i wouldn't give to be as close with those boys as they are." delly and marin murmur in agreement as i furrow my brow.
"aren't they all related?" katniss, gale, and harlow look so similar they could be twins and julia, while she isn't as much of a dead ringer, has similar features to the three.
"i don't think so," crysta says. delly smirks at me but just shakes her head when i raise my eyebrow at her. after a moment, everyone seems to forget the topic of the reaping and we're back to the normal subjects; wrestling, classes, all the arbitrary teenage bullshit. i close my eyes and look up towards the sky, feeling the sun warm my cheeks, and try to forget what the next hour brings.
