24 TRIBUTES (THG PEETA'S POV)

2

         I can't help staring at Katniss. Her back to me, so I can't read her expression. It appears as though she stumbled slightly. I wish I could feel some relief that it wasn't Katniss or someone I knew closely, but I know how much Katniss loves her sister. I remember her, on multiple occasions, stopping outside the shop so that Primrose could look at the cakes. Katniss would always roll her eyes, but when Primrose wasn't looking, I saw her smile slightly. My father would buy goat cheese off of her regularly. Even if I didn't know her, she was only 12 years old.

        Everyone seems to be having a similar reaction, and I don't see anyone with a smiling face. Not even the lonely men who place bets on who is going to be chosen. And that's when I hear Katniss.

         "Prim!" She cries, and starts moving towards her. Prim is close to the stage now, and the seam kids all move for Katniss to make it to her. "Prim!" She yells again, sounding more assertive. She reaches her before Prim can mount the stage and stands in front of her.

           "I volunteer!" She gasps. "I volunteer as tribute!" She finishes, her voice sounding almost calm. There are many murmurs on the stage, but I just stare at Katniss. Standing in front of Prim protectively. There is more talking on the stage but all I can think about is Katniss. Katniss was always somewhat of a mystery. She didn't have many friends at school, and seemed to mostly keep to herself. But everyone knows Katniss. The girl who hunts, and provides for her family. The girl who goes into the hub. Everyone respected her, perhaps even admired her. I couldn't help but admire her even more now. And I can't help wishing that I would have just spoken to her, befriended her or at least tried too.

         "Wow." James mummers beside me and I glance at him. I had been thinking the same thing.

           "No, Katniss! No! You can't go!" Prim screams. And I see Katniss turn to her. "Prim, let go." Her voice sounds harsh. "Let go!" She says, more forcibly. Gale is suddenly making his way up the centre walk way towards them, and picks up Prim. She thrashes in his arms. I see him mummer something to Katniss, before turning around with Prim in his arms. He closes his eyes momentarily, before walking her back to their mother.

           Katniss mounts the stage as Effie speaks. "Well, bravo!" She gushes. "That's the spirit of the games!" Effie says, throwing her hands in the air. "What's your name?" She asks.

"Katniss Everdeen." Katniss responds, and you can see the pain in her eyes. But no fear.

          "I bet your buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!" Trills Effie. But she is met with silence. As I predicted, no one wanted to see Katniss up on the stage. We don't want to see anyone, but Katniss deserved better. I am surprised when I see everyone surrounding me kiss their three middle fingers of their left hand, and raise it high in the air. I join in without a second thought. I had only seen this done at coal miners funerals. But I know what it means. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means goodbye to someone you love.

           Before I can look at Katniss, Haymitch is stumbling onto the stage.

          "Look at her. Look at this one!" He hollers, and throws an arm around Katniss. "I like her!" He continues as Katniss looks at him with her nose wrinkled. "Lots of..." He trails off. "Spunk!" He finds the word. "More than you!" He lets go of Katniss, and makes his way towards a camera. "More than you!" He now points directly at the camera. I wonder if Haymitch knows he shouldn't be doing that, or if he is trying to act defiant. Before I can decide he is falling off the stage, head first.

            Effie attempts to distract the crowd from Haymitch's outburst. "What an exciting day!" She says, adjusting her wig slightly. "But now more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!" She walks over to the other bowl, and grabs the first slip she comes in contact with. I think about my brother with his 7 slips, and I even think about Gale with who knows how many, that I forget about myself.

           "Peeta Mellark!" Effie exclaims, and it can't be right! My name was in the bowl 5 times. Only 5 slips. I feel myself moving towards the stage, and attempt to look straight ahead. My odds of winning the games are so low, and then add Katniss into the scenario. They go down to zero. I mount the stage. Katniss seems surprised by my presents, but all that I can register is that I got picked. Out of all those names. When Effie asks for volunteers, I am not surprised when there is none. Why would my life be more worthy than anyone else? Not many people had someone who loves them like Katniss did with her sister.

          I think about my few interactions with Katniss. I remember her parents, when she was first dropped off at school. Her father, kissing her on the forehead and then holding her mother's hand. My father pointed them out. Even at a young age, I knew he longed for a different life. Perhaps a different partner than my mother. My father just seemed so worn down, and I would wonder when I was younger, if Katniss' mom never left my father what his life would be like. But in that moment starting school, I couldn't imagine it.

          I remember what he said so clearly. He told me how he was in love with Katniss' mom, wanted to marry her. But she ran off with a coal miner. At the time, I couldn't imagine why. We lived a comfortable life, and coal miners didn't. When I asked him how she could do that he simply said. "When he sings.. even the birds stop to listen."

           I remember looking at Katniss again, and even at our young age she was beautiful, but I couldn't imagine leaving my life. And then I heard her sing. When the teacher asked for someone to sing the Valley Song, there was Katniss. She stood in front of everyone, and sang. I felt as though I was in a trance, and I was just like her mother. The birds did stop to listen. And just like that I fell in love with her. The older I got, I knew it couldn't be love. I wasn't that naive anymore. But I couldn't shake Katniss from my thoughts. I would always watch her. Her parents would walk around, holding hands and looked so in love. Every time I would come home to my mother, in a bad mood, and my father exhausted I would think about Katniss.

          When her father died, things changed. She wasn't happy anymore. And I felt like I had lost my opportunity to ever speak to her. Until I saw her, outside the back doors of our shop. I had never seen Katniss look defeated, but as she sat there, I wondered if the girl I thought I knew wasn't there anymore.

         My mother had just started allowing me to bake bread on my own. I was good at it, but Katniss looked so skinny. Without a second thought, I burnt the bread. My mother yelled horrible things at me, and hit me with a large rolling pin. It was the first time she hit me hard enough that I saw stars. But I knew what I had to do. As she was yelling at me to feed the bread to the pigs, I threw the bread to Katniss. I went inside before I could see her grab it.

          I would replay this over and over in my head, and regret everything about it. I could have walked it out to her. Said something, it would have been a perfect opportunity. But I was a coward, and she wasn't and now I would never have a friendship with her, let alone a relationship. The next day I caught her staring at me, but when I looked back her eyes fleeted away. I wonder if she remembers me.

            I'm staring off past the crowd as the mayor says the closing Treaty of Treason, and he motions for Katniss and me to shake hands. I look at Katniss, I had never been this close to her before. Her eyes are an array of colours, and I can't decide if they are blue or green. I could never kill her. I'm surprised at how gentle her hand is in mine, and I squeeze it, just slightly to remind her that it will be okay. But Katniss has lived her whole life fighting, and I know she doesn't care about my reassurance.