Chapter 1- Gale's POV

I woke up at five in the morning, just around dawn. Katniss was counting on me to be there, at our spot in the woods with something to ironically celebrate Reaping day. The day that destroyed the world as we know it for twenty-four families all across Panem.

I struggled into my boots, and headed out the door.

The woods were behind a small meadow that was concealed inside the District 12 fence. I was brave enough to go past the fence, if it wasn't charged. Which it often wasn't.

I listened for the buzz of the fence that meant the fence was live. As usual, it wasn't. I slipped under the fence, and sped into the woods.

Sometimes, people picked apples from the trees at the front of the woods in the fall. But they never went out of sight of the meadow. I, along with Katniss, was among the brave.

Snatching up my bow and arrow, I looked around for game. I heard some rustling in a tree, so I shot an arrow blindly. A squirrel. A squirrel! Just a dumb squirrel that I couldn't trade for bread any day.

I sighed and hooked the idiot creature to my belt. The baker's wife surely would be out hanging banners in town square. If I hurried, maybe the baker would trade, without his wife around to scold him for settling for such small portions of meat.

Treading out of the forest was the hard part for me. It was never hard for Katniss. Oh, Katniss. I sure hoped she didn't get picked. Or her sister, Prim. It would kill her to watch Prim suffer and not be able to help.

Just as I was at the edge of the forest, I paused as I man hobbled by. I was surprised I didn't recognize him. From business in the Hob (black market) to living in the Seam, (poor part of District 12), I knew almost everyone there was to know.

Of course, there were people that kept to themselves. That man was probably one of them.

I kept my footfall quiet as I tried to almost tip-toe down the streets of the Seam. The residents here were very aware of their surroundings, and some people didn't approve of my hunting.

The bakery was just past the square. I was weary and made sure the baker's wife didn't catch a glimpse of me. She'd probably follow me and see to it I didn't get a trade.

I knocked on the baker's back door.

"Hello?" a boy, about Katniss's age, with ashy blonde hair and clear blue eyes answered the door. "Oh. You want to trade. Dad's not here, but I know he likes squirrel. I'll be right back."

He was back in a few seconds with a loaf of District 12's signature bread. "Squirrel, please."

I handed it to him and snatched the bread out of his hands. It was still very warm. "Hey, good luck." I said, fighting the urge to say, "You won't need it."

"Oh. Thanks. You're Gale, right? I'm Peeta. Peeta Mellark. Good luck. I know you don't like the whole tesserae thing. Neither do I. I had to put three more slips in this year." he hunched his shoulders and closed the door.

Tesserae is the Capitol's way of mocking us, and how poor we are compared to them. I actually don't consider us poor. Just more resourceful and less lazy. Anyway, tesserae is when you add your name in the reaping one more time in exchange for a years' worth of grain and oil for one person. But here's the catch. If I add my name more times, I get more grain and oil for my family. As do the other Seam families. So this year my name will be in the reaping sixty-eight times, even though it was my last eligible reaping, since I was eighteen, I still felt like this was the year.

I trudged back to the forest, less careful about silence now. When I was going to the bakery, people were asleep. And if you wake a Seam person up early in the morning because of hunting, you could easily get bashed over the head with a frying pan. But now, although the usually buzzing streets were empty, people were starting to wake up.

The spot Katniss and I shared was at the top of a flowery hill in a small clearing. I'd met her here, when she was just a little kid, probably almost thirteen. She taught me how to use a bow and arrow, and I taught her how to set snares. She was sixteen now. I'd admired her for three years so far, almost to the day.

I took an arrow from my quiver and stuck it through the loaf of bread, so I could make a joke when Katniss made it to the hill.

Finally, I could hear rustling in the woods, and I thought of Katniss's appearance. She had caramel brown skin and long dark hair she always wore in a braid down her back. Her dark eyes were very expressive, but only when she allowed it. I thought she was beautiful.

She finally emerged from the woods. I went into best friend mode and waved my arrow-stuck bread at her. "Look what I caught!"

She laughed. "Sentimental baker?"

"Something like that." I laughed. I watched as she pulled a thick slice of goat cheese out of her coat pocket and waved it.

"Thank you, Prim!" I said. She handed me the cheese. I broke the bread in half and spread the cheese on it.

I pretended to hide her half of the loaf, and she pounced on top of me, pinning me to the ground. "Give me the bread."

I breathed heavily and said, "NEVER!" as I rolled to the side and teased Katniss with the bread half I was holding in my hand. I finally gave up and threw it at the back of her head. She flipped around and caught it so fast, it wasn't even funny.

"So. Reaping day." she sighed, tearing off a piece of bread with her fingers and shoving it in her mouth. I thought she looked like the subject of a painting, with her dark eyes gleaming in the sunlight and the thoughtful look on her face.

"Yeah." I imitated Effie Trinket, the moronically upbeat woman that arrived every year to draw the names from the "glass balls of death", as my brother had nicknamed them. "And may the odds be ever in your favor!" I squeaked.

She laughed. Then she did something I never thought she'd do in a million years. She got up from the ground and gave me a tight hug, burrowing her face into my neck. "I really hope neither of us gets picked."

I cautiously put my arms around her back, not wanting to stand there like and idiot with my arms flailing like noodles. "Me too."

She broke away from the hug, and said, "See you at the square."

I nodded. "See you."

We went our separate ways.

XXX

The square was filled with people of all ages. But those eligible for the reaping were standing in the middle, youngest in the front of the crowd, oldest in the back. I couldn't see Katniss anywhere.

The mayor stepped up to the podium and started telling us the same story he told every year. About the shining country, Panem, with thirteen districts and how everything was going so great for it. Until riots started. Uprisings. District 12 was settled, and thirteen was completely obliterated. To remind us how brutal these wars were, there became the Hunger Games. Each district was required to submit two tributes, one boy and one girl, to fight to the death on live TV. The last person standing wins.

When the mayor finished the story, he read off all of District 12's victors. We'd only ever had two. One was still alive. His name was Haymitch Abernathy, and he was a drunk. He was drunk almost every reaping, and bet that was why his seat was still empty on the stage.

Effie Trinket stepped up to the podium, and said, "May the odds be ever in your favor!" she twirled her finger through her hideous pink hair.

She stepped over to the girl's glass ball, and pulled out a slip. "Primrose Everdeen!"

No. No. No. I wanted to scream. That was Katniss's sister, Prim, the sweetest little girl I knew, next to my sister, Posy. No!

I watched as Prim slowly inched up the steps of the stage, but someone immediately ran for the stage yelling, "I volunteer!", and replaced her.

Oh no, Katniss.