No. It's not real, it's not real, it's not real, I keep repeating to myself over and over again. I'd witnessed these events take place before; I've lived this every night for the past four years. Something is different about it this time, though. The image is clearer, the sun is brighter and the sorrow and heart break emitting from the audience is almost tangible; that is when I realise the difference. This time, it's not a dream. The odds weren't in my favour at all.
By the time I come to this realisation, my feet have already carried the rest of my body to the bottom of the cement stairs. My body is no longer my own. I take three deep breaths, knowing that they are now limited, and will myself up the stairs where I am greeted by the unearthly Capitol citizen that is Effie Trinket. Her slightly off-centered pink wig matches the bright pink lipstick that has been applied to the smile that spreads across her face. Her entire appearance has been chosen carefully to emit a sense of warmth, but her demeanor screams nothing but coldness; just another heartless Capitol citizen invested in the death of the district's children. Mayor Undersee shakes my hand, and then the female tribute's hand, before reciting the Treaty of Treason. It is then that I realise I must have tuned out for the majority of the reaping because I can't believe who is standing at my left. The girl tribute for District Twelve is Katniss Everdeen.
The cameras focus on the mayor as he recites the Treaty to the district, so I take a moment to myself. Besides, I've heard that dull treaty so many times that I could take centre stage and recite it myself, were I in a better state of mind. Katniss Everdeen. Just when I thought this experience couldn't get any worse; why did they have to choose her? I can accept the idea that my breaths, my heartbeats and my life is limited now...but not her. I cannot accept the idea that there will be a world where Katniss Everdeen doesn't exist, which is weird considering I've never actually spoken a single word to her. But I don't have to.
The first time Katniss Everdeen and I ever had any significant contact with each other, we were eleven. It was a rainy afternoon and the wind had a chill in it that could only be described as paralyzing. Even though I was in the warmth of the family bakery, I still couldn't fight the urge to shiver. I was in the back of the bakery cleaning some of the machines when the sound of my mother screaming caught my attention. I raced over to her at the back door, to find her shouting at a young firm who was rummaging through our rubbish. She was wearing a jacket that was much bigger than she was, and was absolutely soaked. Her face was hollow and it was clear that she was sick or starving - probably both. She made her way to an old apple tree not far from the back door. I kept my eyes on her while my mother retreated further inside the store. I couldn't let her starve so I purposefully let the ends of two loaves of bread burn; knowing exactly how my mother would react. The second I pulled the loaves out of the fire, I was convinced I had somehow burned my face, but that was just the feeling that my mother's hand had left on my skin.
"Feed it to the pig, you stupid creature! Why not? No one decent will buy burned bread!" My mother was screaming at me, just a few inches from my face. I knew better than to talk back to her, so I proceeded out the back door of the bakery. I mindlessly through the ends of the bread to the pigs, and as soon as my mother's back was turned to me, I threw the rest of the loaves to Katniss before walking back inside. No words or glances were exchanged between us. She's probably forgotten about that by now - after all, it was five years ago.
My mind returns to the present; the Justice Building, the reaping, the treaty, and Katniss. The mayor finished the treaty and then motioned for Katniss and I to shake hands, and we did. I tried to give her a reassuring squeeze and a look in my eyes that meant that she was not alone, that I was here for her, but I'm not sure it worked. Panem's anthem blares through the speakers and we retreat; the officials, Effie, Haymitch, Katniss and myself. I turn my back to the people of District Twelve, and wall through the doors of the Justice Building, knowing that I will never see those people again. I will never see this building again. I will never see the bakery again. Only one person comes out alive of these games, and I'm going to make sure it will be her.
