Catching Fire: Peeta's POV

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

A few weeks time has passed since the District Thirteen showing. I've spent the time with Katniss, sketching what she tells me. However, there was one interruption to our new found routine. I wasn't allowed to go to Katniss's house on the day of said interruption because of her bridal photoshoot. Apparently, it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before their wedding. Makes sense, right? Well, it would if there wasn't a photoshoot and a broadcast on TV for her dresses. If I'm not supposed to see it, then why is it being broadcasted all over Panem? I suppose I'm supposed to ignore the TV for a few days.

Instead, on that day, I spend the day indoors painting. This time I paint some of the melting, wet snow, grass quietly poking through in patches, the sun still glittering against the remaining snow, fluffy white clouds in the sky overhead, and a few birds in the sky. I paint the smooth cobblestone path, leading to the rest of the District, still wet from the melting, slushy snow, and the dark snow piled against the sides of the path, black with coal dust.

It's a shame you can't capture the smell and sound of nature in a painting. The smell of the fresh grass. The sound of the high chirping birds flying overhead. The horrid smell of the coal being burned in our small district of Twelve. The smell of the coal being carried on the slight breeze.

You, also, can't capture the movement of the grass swaying. The new green leaves slightly moving in the in wind. The clouds being moved along in the blue-gray sky. The birds flying along, moving their small wings.

So many things you can't catch in painting. If there was only a way for me to catch the things I can't in a painting.

~CF:PPOV~

The next day, the day following the photoshoot, I rise early. The sun is only just rising when I dress for the day before heading off to the bakery.

I help my father and brothers in the bakery until late that evening. It's another interruption in Katniss and I's new routine, but I plan on getting back to that routine tonight. After a while, my father tells me to go home, and he reminds me that there is a mandatory show on tonight.

I grab some food for dinner before sitting down to watch the show. The show consists of Katniss is many of her wedding gowns. Go figure. And I'm not supposed to see her in the dresses. After Cinna reminds people to vote, Caesar announces that there is another big event.

"That's right, this year will be the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games, and that means it's time for our third Quarter Quell!" Caesar announces.

This must be the reading of the card as my dad tells me they do for the Quarter Quells. It has to be. It is still months away before the next Games. The reading must be the special circumstance for each Quarter Quell.

The anthem begins playing, and Snow takes the stage. There is a small boy carrying a box behind him. When the anthem ends, Snow begins speaking. He reminds us of the District Thirteen uprising, or more commonly know as the Dark Days. The origin of the Games is once again announced as our punishment for the uprising. Snow continues on with the past two Quarter Quells. "On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every District was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it."

My heart aches. The horror the people of the District had to go through, to choose the tributes. Choose whom they wanted to die in the Games.

Snow continues with the next Quarter Quell. "On the fiftieth anniversary as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes."

That was the year Haymitch won. Instead of having to make it passes twenty-three other tributes he had to make it passed forty-seven. A miracle in and of itself.

Snow still carries on, "And now we honor our third Quarter Quell." The boy steps forward with the box. The box is filled with yellowed envelopes. Envelopes of the circumstance of every Quarter Quell for centuries to come. Snow pulls out the envelope marked seventy-five. He opens the square aged envelope. Pulling out the piece of parchment inside he reads, "On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

I stare in shock at the TV. The victors have to fight once again in the arena. Twelve only has three. Haymitch and me. Two choices. A fifty percent chance. However, Katniss is the only female. She has to go. No choice. I will not let Katniss be alone in the arena without me. Haymitch will not return to the arena. I will be that arena with Katniss even if I have to volunteer. I will not let Katniss, my love, be alone. 

Edited