Chapter 1 - Reaping

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Cato's Point of View

The District 12 escort pulls the girls name from the glass ball. "Primrose Everdeen." She says in an upbeat voice, as if enjoying the possible death of a child.

A small girl with light blond hair steps from the 12 year old section. She begins to take slow crawling steps toward the stage, her face showing nothing but fear.

She doesn't make it there before a girl with dark brown hair tries to run her. "Prim! Prim!" She cries, desperation clearly written on her face. The peacekeepers hold her back from the girl until she yells out the words no one would expect to come from anyone from District 12. "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

The peacekeepers let her go and she runs toward the small girl and grips her close to her. "Prim go find mom." She says sadly.

The little girl, Prim, screams and clings to the girl tightly like a vice until a large boy with similar features to the girl sith dark hair pulls Prim off. He whispers something to the girl that the cameras don't quite catch and my heart twists with jealousy.

Who is he to her? Brother? Friend? Lover? My hands grip the edges of the sofa I am seated on tighter as the word comes up. He can't be her lover can he? No. She doesn't look at him like one, but it isn't her I'm worried about.

While mt thoughts have wondered, the girl has mounted the stage and has turned her features into an indifferent mask, so I am unable to read her emotions.

"Looks like District Twelve's first volunteer, what is your name?" The flamboyant escort asks fiddling with her hair.

"Katniss Everdeen." The girl says quietly. Hmm Katniss Everdeen. What a beautiful name. I think before I catch myself. I can't be having thought like this, not wjere we're going. But I can't help but notice that it must have taken courage to sacrifice oneself for her sister.

"Well wouldn't want her to steal all of the glory would we?" The escort asks making my eye twitch. Glory? What glory is in these games? What honor could possibly be put into this?

Katniss stays silent so the escort continues. "Anyway, let's give a hand for District Twelve's very first volunteer." The escort begins to clap, attempting to get everyone to join her. But to the everlasting credit to the people of District Twelve, not a single person claps.

My eyes widen as first one, then two, and then all of the people in the square have risen their three middle fingers to their lips, and held them out to Katniss. The sign that means thanks, it means admiration, it means goodbye to someone you love.

The escort doesn't seam to notice though. She's too consumed in checkimg if the cameras have captured her "good side" that she doesn't realize the silent honor that is being given to the girl behind her. "And now, it's time to choose our boy tribute!" She warbles.

She walks quickly over to the glass ball containing the boy tributes names and quickly plucks one at random. She unfolds it and reads the name with verve. "Peeta Mellark." Before the cameras can surf the crowd for the boy, I catch the look of pure dread that has cracked through Katniss's mask. She knows him, I know it.

The boy is of medium height, blond, broad shouldered young man who walks, his face shocked, to the platform. He apparently isn't very good at hiding his emotions. Good. I think.

The escort asks for any volunteers but no one steps forward. After the mayor finishes the long, dull Treaty of Treason, he gestures for Katniss and Peeta to shake hands. My muscles tighten as she puts her hand in his larger one and the loosen only slightly as she slips her hand from his grasp.

She dissappears from my sight as they walk into the grey Justice Building and I sigh. Katniss. Will your name never leave my mind.

So . . . Was is good, bad, awful? Yeah I know. Tell me your opinion in the comments and be sure to vote! Thank You!

- EliseBunny

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