The Hunger Games: Retold

Chapter 2

At one o'clock Uri and I make our way outside to the square. It's eerie how so many people can be so quiet. Jasper takes his place with our mother and father in the ranks of adults and children too young to have their names entered in the drawing. I look out at the crowd, mostly pallor and malnutrition looks back. These people endure such hardship every day, this is just another hard day on top of so many others. I feel almost guilty when my friends Carney and Eirik meet up with us. Carney throws an arm around my shoulders and cries, "Once more, into the breach!" Eirik laughs and pulls Carney's shirt tails untucked before ducking away from the retaliatory swat. I can't help smiling at their rowdiness, knowing it covers a deep anxiety like my own. Carney lost his older brother to the games two years ago. He carries the fear of his name being called not only for himself, but for his mother as well. She still hasn't recovered from the shock of watching her eldest son be bludgeoned to death by another child on national television while the audience cheered. The children of the merchants are rarely called, it's true. We have far less chance of being drawn than those of the Seam who have to increase their chances just to feed their families. But it does happen. I think again of Katniss who must know how bad her chances are with her name on twenty of those damned slips.

Over to the side I see Jael, a broken and half-mad miner who lost a leg in an accident ten years ago. He hasn't had steady work since, turning to soft crime to stay fed. Sometimes he hopes to be jailed just for a meal. Today he's trying to get a man from the Hob to front a bet for him that the girl picked will cry.

"Come on, just a tenner. I'll make it back three fold and we split the winnings," he wheedles.

His prey is clearly torn. It's a solid bet the girl will cry, but it's despicable to place the wager. I turn away, sickened and not wanting to know how it comes out. Carney spits in Jael's direction and Eirik makes an obscene gesture. But neither has their heart in it, Jael is too pathetic to hate.

We wait in line until it's our turn to sign in, then join a few more of our friends in the holding space. The jovial defiance has faded away as everyone nervously eyes each other. Who won't be here tomorrow? We trade comments about the escort from the Capitol. Effie Trinket, with a bright spring green suit to set off her candy pink hair is clearly disgruntled about an empty chair on the stage.

Carney whispers fiercely, "Of course he's not here, drunken waste of space."

His family furiously blames the loss of their son on Haymitch Abernathy, the only surviving victor from District 12, and mentor to new tributes. Mentor may be a loosely used term, but Haymitch is the only choice tributes have.

Low voiced conversations and nervous fidgeting fade away as the clock strikes two and the mayor begins to speak. Sticking to the script as always, he drones about the history of Panem. We all know the story. The Treaty of Treason resulting in today's Reaping. In two children being carted off to fight to the death with twenty-two others with the promise of riches and glory upon victory. In the Capitol flexing its power over our lives yet again. As the mayor names the only two victors District 12 has ever had, our only surviving victor stumbles blearily onto the stage and collapses into his chair. He leans in to give Effie a big hug and she barely escapes, her wig listing alarmingly in her maneuver.

She pretends she was just standing to give her customary address. I barely hear her as she gushes about how pleased she is to be here. I'm scanning the girls' enclosure for a glimpse of Katniss. I see her younger sister, blonde hair gleaming among the dark heads of her friends. Her shirt has come untucked in the back, though I doubt a rough-housing friend is responsible.

Further back I finally see Katniss. Her back ramrod straight as ever, her chin high and eyes fixed determinedly straight ahead. She has the clear gray eyes of the Seam. I can feel the tension radiating off her. She looks slightly nauseous but her gaze never falters. But then, it does.

I whip my head around to the front. What did she just say? My gaze snaps back to Katniss and I see she looks as though she's about to drop. She seems frozen, unable to react. My instinct is to go to her, but Carney sadly puts a hand on my arm, holding me back. Then, she erupts.

"Prim!" her cry is a strangled croak, but then, "Prim!" she screams. Katniss bolts to the stage and pulls her sister protectively behind her. "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

My heart drops to my feet. Of course. There is no way this could have gone any differently. I turn to find Jasper in the crowd. His eyes meet mine with such pained understanding I can hardly bear it.

Effie is fussing about protocol but the mayor cuts in, "What does it matter?"

He looks sick as well. Everyone feels the sharp pain of one sister putting her life in front of the other's. The ultimate sacrifice for the ultimate reason. Prim is hysterical and I see a movement to my left. The tall boy, her friend, is moving toward the stage. He sweeps Prim up into his arms and murmurs something to Katniss before carrying Prim away. I see the stony look of despair on his face as he passes by, the thrashing and screaming girl held tight and safe. Safe because of her sister's selflessness.

Effie has regained her composure and introduced Katniss. She calls chirpily for a round of applause and is greeted instead by anguished silence. The crowd is bereft in the face of this travesty. Quietly, the people of District 12 show support in the only way they can, by not going along.

Then, it is not enough. Not enough to let it pass without her knowing they understand. They see what she has done, and they honor her for it. Carney's father touches the three middle fingers of his left hand to his lips and holds it out to her. Others follow until almost everyone in the crowd has followed his example. I am unable to move, watching as Katniss takes in this show of support. This thanks, this admiration, this good-bye. She stands steely eyed, but I can see her waver.

Just at that moment, Haymitch throws himself onto her in congratulations. He is incoherent and clearly not in control of himself. He turns to the front of the stage and bellows something before tumbling over the edge to lie in an unconscious heap below. I see Katniss gather herself. While everyone's attention is on the drunken fool on the ground, she puts her mask back on and stands, hands behind her back, eyes on the horizon. I am hollow and unable to process what I'm seeing. She seems so resigned, I can't believe it will be the last time I will see her. I never should have let my cowardice rule my decisions. I should have told her how I feel, how I've felt ever since we were children. I can't let this happen to her. My brain whirls with wild scenarios. How can I get her out of this? Can we run? Who will fight with us? As this desperate nonsense swirls through my mind, Effie has dipped into the ball of male names. I am thinking achingly of the one time I was able to help Katniss before when Effie's voice rings out, "Peeta Mellark."

My crazily spinning brain freezes suddenly. As those two words sink in, I fight to keep my face blank. Eirik grabs my arm as my eyes shoot to my father. His face has gone gray and Jasper seems to be holding him up. I can't appear afraid. For him. I have to keep my panic down, he can't see me break. Uri won't meet my eyes as I move past him. I touch his arm as I go forward, no one blames him for not trying to take my place. Eirik looks stricken and Carney has tears on his face. As I walk to the stage, hands reach out to touch me, to comfort, to say good-bye. Numbly, I listen as Effie calls for volunteers and the mayor finishes his speech. He motions for Katniss and me to shake hands. Her eyes meet mine coolly, and inconsequentially I think of Jael. He has surely lost his money today. My hand tightens around hers in silent pride for her bravery. We turn to face the crowd as the anthem of Panem plays. I decide then and there that Katniss is coming home.