In Peeta's Eyes 1: Sowing and Reaping

      The reaping ceremony has always disgusted me.  The whole idea of the Hunger Games is just so barbaric that I am unbelievably thankful each year my name doesn't come out of that glass ball.  Looking around me, I see the terrified and paler-than-usual faces of more than a hundred kids from ages 12 to 18, all of them saying the same desperate prayer I am: Please don't let it be me this time!

      We are lined up according to our ages.  Like rows of grain from District 9 ready to be chopped down with the glinting scythe of Effie Trinket's brightly colored fingernails.  As if the only reason the adults of Panem have children is to put them in these infernal lines to be chopped down and thrown into a death match disguised as a grand honor.  To me, that's all we seem to be to the people of the Capitol: ears of grain sown for the sole purpose of perishing in a sifter that only allows one to exit alive.

      My mouth opens slightly as I hear Effie Trinket squeal the girl tribute's name happily.  Primrose Everdeen.  I know her as Katniss Everdeen's little sister.  The sister of the girl I have watched from a distance for the past five years.

      Pulling my attention back to the stage, I see Katniss, dressed in a light blue dress with her dark hair braided around her head, stagger forward, pushing off the hands of a blonde girl and screaming her sister's nickname.

      "Prim!  Prim!"

      She shoves her tiny sister behind her and stands up straight and defiant.  "I volunteer!" she all but shrieks up at the stage.  "I volunteer as tribute!"

      I can feel the entire mob of District 12 citizens gasp.  I too can't help but draw a breath.  The rest of the ceremony doesn't matter to me.  I just watch Katniss as she ascends the steps to stand by Effie.  I vaguely hear Effie and the mayor talking, see Prim clinging to Katniss, a tall, dark young man I know vaguely from school named Gale lift her up and carry her away.  I can just make out Katniss telling her name to all of Panem, Haymitch Abernathy blundering around and speaking with his slurred speech.  All I can think is: I never got the chance to gather my courage and actually talk to her before she was sent off to die…

      And then Effie Trinket is reaching into the glass globe that holds all the boys' slips.  She plucks out the first scrap of paper her perfectly manicured fingernails come in contact with… and she reads the name on it:

      "Peeta Mellark!"

      I feel like someone has thrown their fist into my gut.  All the air leaves my chest and I have to remind myself to breathe as I force my feet to carry me to the stage, up the steps, and over to stand by Katniss.  She is looking at me oddly out of the corner of her wide gray eyes, but as soon as I catch her staring, she glances away.

      I know that this can't possibly end well.  Either we will be killed by the other 22 tributes…  Or we will have to kill each other.