Chapter 1: Eyes Burned

I scowl as I tug at the ruffles of my blue Reaping dress, stomping along in the dirt towards home. I have never worn this dress after hunting or while making a delivery. But Mother insists that in bringing the Mayor of District 12 a prize turkey for the annual Thanksgiving feast, I need to at least make myself presentable. If I could work my will, I would never have to wear this dress to anything outside of the Reaping for the Hunger Games one day every summer. But, growing up as poor as I have in the Seam, this dress is the nicest article of clothing I own.

I am over the Town-Seam line now, and just passing the district dump more commonly known as the Slag Heap. It has built up a legendary status as the place where young teenagers my age go to have a good fuck. You wouldn't catch me dead in there though, never mind in such a compromising position. I am never going to get married, and I am especially never going to have children who will just turn into dead tributes. This reminder makes me pick up my pace a little, and I have nearly crossed beyond the open gate, when I hear:

"Ohhhh... Mmmmm... Oh God..."

I scoff. Some horny boy and girl are in there already, and it's only late in the morning! Odds are good that they aren't using any kind of protection - when I wasn't of the mind to skip Family Planning class, I at least learned the basics. No condoms or contraceptives means some Seam girl getting knocked up, more often than not by an arrogant Town boy. But very few people in Twelve can afford these kind of preventives. Mother only can because she is the district Healer, so she has ready access to the supplies sent to her fresh from the Capitol. I am just about to keep stomping for home, when I hear the boy moan again:

"Uhhhhhh... Katniss..."

I freeze, my eyes bulging. Whoever is fucking in there just said my name. Which leads me to wonder what poor girl is underneath him, having to hear her lover moan some other girl's name? I can't detect any feminine sounds to indicate a second young teenager is in there. What is more... I know that moan. It may seem odd, but I know the voice that is making that moan.

I should leave it alone. But my curiosity, and indignation as to who would dare to say my name during sex has me creep into the Slag Heap, and peer cautiously around a mound of trash.

I freeze, my mouth hanging open at the sight before me. A young boy with ashy blond hair and deep blue eyes is staring up towards the clouds. His pants are down to his ankles, and I can see... Oh God... his... dick hanging out! It is engorged, the head an angry red and one of his big, calloused hands is stroking it madly. I have never seen a man's penis before. The sight of the organ fills me with a strange curiosity, even if the action to which it is attached repulses me. As I watch, unseen by him, the Baker's youngest son groans a name on his lips. My name:

"Ohhhhh please... Katniss..."

I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle a sound of horror. Peeta Mellark is masturbating to me. Me! How horrible! How disgusting!

At last, Peeta screams a little too loudly, "Katniss!" and I watch in revulsion as juices spurt forth and coat his member. His muscled body wilts like a flower in summertime as he rides his orgasm out to the fantasy of me in his head.

I don't wait for him to zip up his pants or become aware of my presence. I run out of the Slag Heap, my eyes stinging with tears, wanting to throw up.

I am traumatized. Peeta Mellark, my classmate in school to whom I have never spoken, just jacked off to me. Me! Which means he clearly must want me. A boy wants to have me in his bed. I can't imagine why. For one thing, I feel I am not in the least bit pretty. My breasts are tiny, and I am mostly skin-and-bones, despite the marginally better nutrition that my family and I receive from my hunts. Primrose, my little sister, is the real beauty of the family, having inherited the Merchant blond hair and blue eyes from our mother. Many boys in the Seam will want to marry her, when she comes of age... if I don't shoot them all first. Prim is the one person in this whole world whom I am certain I love.

Which brings me back to the topic of Peeta. If he wants me... wants me sexually... does that mean he is in... love with me? Surely not, I dismiss the possibility almost in terror, not liking how it seems to make my heart speed up. Besides, many Town boys have a reputation for lusting after and seducing Seam girls, before discarding them like trash after a baby results, or their bigoted parents make them stay within their class. Sometimes, it's both. No, wanting someone and loving someone are two very different things. Mutually exclusive. And Peeta Mellark is most definitely not in love with me. He just... wants me.

That any boy would want me at all makes me heat with an indignant rage. And so I decide that I will confront Peeta Mellark about his sexual fascination with me. We shall see if he is so eager to have my name on his lips and tongue after that!