The Hunger Games- Peeta's POV

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Hey everyone! Before you start reading I just wanted to put two disclaimers. First off, I don't own any of these characters (obviously) and I don't take credit for them. I'm just putting Suzanne Collins' story into Peeta's perspective. Second, this is MY idea. Okay, that sounded bratty. What I mean is that I promise I didn't copy your idea. I'm sure there are several "Peeta's perspective" stories, but I did think if this idea on my own, I promise. I didn't check and I don't care to know. This is my story and my input. Mkay, enjoy!

Part one-  "The Tributes"

I wake up late, as usual, and start my morning chores. I make sure to be quiet so I don't wake my mother, who's sleeping right in the room next to mine. My two brothers are already up, probably working on the morning pastries. I work in a bakery that my mother and father keep. In the spare hours that I'm not going to school, I bake bread. It's not a terrible occupation. We get to feed hungry people, which I love, the sad part is, lots of people don't have the money anymore.

As I start working on making some dough, I think about today. It's the reaping for the Hunger Games today: a cruel and selfish way for our President to remind us who's in charge. Since I'm sixteen, I get twenty papers with my name on it in the giant glass bowl. Every year, one of our district children gets sent in, and every year they die. Or, at least, they have since I've been watching them. Every year it could be me... although it isn't.

"Peeta pay attention!" My mom screams at me. I flinch as I hear her harsh voice. I almost burned the bread.

"Sorry," I mumble quietly, grabbing the bread from the stove. I'm not really that graceful, I'm more muscular than anything else. Carrying heavy bags of supplies help with that, of course.

"Sorry isn't going to un-burn the bread," my mother scolds.

"It's not burned," I reply as calmly as a can. I wince as I say it, knowing I shouldn't be talking back. She shoots me a glare, then sighs and starts helping me with the bread.

"It's reaping day," she says. I nod. "Which means you'd better get yourself looking presentable. Everyone's going to be dressed up nicely, and I want you to look just as good as them. You represent our bakery too, you know." I nod again, putting the bread on a cooling rack. I walk away slowly, leaving my mother to the baking and I begin to get ready. Of course, it's pretty early. I don't really need to be there until one, but my mother loves to be seen high in people's esteem. It's just a pride thing, I guess.

I put on a nice shirt and dressy pants. I pull in a nice jacket, then look in our small mirror. I comb my blonde hair and style it with water. I wash my face and hands, getting all the excess flour off. I sigh as I finish, then go out. Guess I'll be early to the Reaping... again.

"Where are Boderick and Cain?" I ask my mother as I walk back out to the kitchen.

"They're outside," she replies, looking me up and down. "Don't you have nicer shoes than that?" She asks. I shake my head and walk away.

"Hey guys," I smile at my two brothers standing outside talking.

"Thought you'd never come," Cain says, grinning at me. "Ready to go? Mom and Dad'll come later."

"Yeah," I answer, starting to walk. It's almost one, so I walk faster. I walk past all the shops and markets. Today, they're all closed for the Reaping, but usually they're happy and bustling. There are bright banners and signs symbolizing pretty much the worst day of every person's life. There are cameras everywhere, filming everyone going by. I get the urge to shiver, but I suppress it. I hate being a spectacle that everyone is watching. There are lots of people in line to sign in. No one is really talking, everyone is quiet and solemn. When I finally, after waiting about an hour in the giant line, sign in, I say bye to my brothers and make my way to a spot by all the rest of the sixteen year olds. Me and a few of my school friends talk and attempt to joke, but we aren't really in the mood. Finally, at two, our mayor stands from his chair on the stage and walks up to the podium to begin his same speech. It's a boring story about the history of Panam. He explains all of our hard times in detail and tells about the terrible war and the new districts. He talks about the uprisings, and how District 13 was destroyed for all of the  revolution.

"This brought forth the Hunger Games: a reminder of the peace given, and of the Dark Days, which we will never return to. It is both a time of repentance and a time for thanks." The mayor continues on.

I yawn involuntarily, and look around, shifting nervously. I wish we could just get this over with... it's hard enough having to wait, but to have to listen to a boring speech? It kind of makes me wish I was in the Hunger Games right now.

Now the mayor is reading the list of the past victors. There are still only two, and only one is alive. Haymitch Abernathy staggers onto the stage drunk and yells something that sounds like: "thank you to the Capitol." The crowd gives him a round of applause, although I don't join in. He sits down in a chair next to Effie Trinket, the girl from the Capitol, who feebly tried to get him off of her. All of the cameras on Haymitch, probably causing the entire audience to laugh. The mayor looks extremely upset, and tried to get the attention back onto the Reaping .

"Ehem... ladies and gentlemen... now coming up is Effie Trinket, all the way from the Capitol!" Effie grins widely and walks up to the podium. Her pink hair and green suit sort of clash, and it makes her stand out against all the drab brown and grey in District 12.

"Happy Hunger Games!" She chirps. "And may the odds be ever in your favor! Now I just have to say what an honor it is to be here. I can not say how... beautiful this place is..." I roll my eyes. "But nevermind that! It's time for the drawing." Effie says happily. "Ladies first!" She walks over to the large glass ball with the girls' names. She reaches in deep into the names and draws out a random one. Content with the one she grabs, she pulls it out. Everyone is silent as they wait to hear their name called. Effie goes back to the microphone and reads out loud in a clear voice that booms and echoes across the entire audience: "Primrose Everdeen."