My eyes adjusting to the faintly lit room, I can smell the scent of fresh baked bread coming up the staircase into my nose, making my mouth water in need.  Today's the day, I thought, The day of the reaping.
   I slowly sit up in bed and take in my surroundings.  The small, cluttered closet I call my room was a terrible mess.  What if this is the last time I ever wake up to this sight?  I wouldn't be heart broken, let me tell you.  But, I would be terrified because if that was the case, it would mean I was reaped.  I don't want that to happen.
   After getting up and changing out of my night clothes, I look in the dusty mirror.  My brilliant blue eyes were so bright against my bloodshot eyes, being as I just woke up.  My blonde hair say on my head in a messed up pile.  My pale, white skin so ghostly against my dress clothes... an ugly sight.  She'll never want me, I thought, what girl, poor or rich, would want me?
   Hearing the sound of the bell above the door alerting me that someone had entered the building, I crept down the stairs.  I didn't want father to know I was awake so I just cracked the door slightly and peeked out.  I saw her.  With her dark hair braided back as always.  She's so beautiful.  And then I see him.  That boy she's always with.  I hope he's just a cousin of some sort.  If not, then I am no match for him...
     

 ***

  Walking down the street towards the stage where the reaping is to be held, I pay close attention to my surroundings.  Everyone is gloomy.  No, I take that back, everyone is terrified.  No one wants to be reaped... not in this district.  Maybe in a couple others they do, but not here in District 12. 

   You see, being reaped isn't a fun thing because if you are, then you're sent to the Hunger Games.  The Hunger Games is a "game" where 24 children, 2 from each district, are sent into an arena where they are forced to kill one another until there is only one child left standing, the victor.  I for one know that I wouldn't stand a chance of surviving if I'm reaped.  And every child between the ages of 12-18 are required to have their name in the bowl to be reaped.

    As I approach the crowd of children that are in the drawings for the reaping, I make my way to the group of boys my age, and I see her, sitting with the group of girls her age.  She has a mournful look on her face.  She's probably not worried that she will be reaped, but that her sister, Prim, will.  Prim is 12, so her name is only in the drawing once out of thousands.  There's no way she'll be reaped.

    After the ceremony began, I zoned out and payed no attention the mayor or Effie Trinket, the capitol woman who came to do the "honor" of reaping one boy and one girl.  When I zoned back in, they were beginning the reaping.  Effie did the same speech as every year, and said her punch line,

   "And May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favor."

   With a quick swipe of her hand, she picked one slip out of the thousands in the ladies' jar.  With a brillian smile and crazed eyes, she announced the name...

   "Primrose Everdeen."

   That's Prim.  One slip.  Out of thousands.  Katniss went insane.  She started running toward Prim through the crowd, screaming her name and choking on her own tears as they stream down her face.  Then, she said the most insane thing I have ever heard.

   "I volunteer!" she screamed, "I volunteer as tribute."

   There was a silence amongst the crowd.  Not even a whisper.  District 12 hasn't had a volunteer in years, if any.  Effie, taking advantage of the silence, took the boys' jar, and picked a slip from there.  With great pleasure, she announced the name.  I couldn't believe it when she did.

   "Peeta Mellark," she bellowed.

   Thats my name.

***

   Oh.  My.  God.  That's all I could think of when I heard that name.  Peeta Mellark.  That's my name, isn't it?  Everything is spinniing all around me, my life is a blur, I can't focus.  This is truley terrifying... I can't believe it.  I, Peeta Mellark, am going into the arena of the 74th annual Hunger Games.  Only one survives... It definetly won't be me.  That much I'm sure of.

   Back to real life, I hear Effie calling my name from the stage.  I respond by slowly making my way through the crowd of worried and pitiful eyes. 

    When I finally make my way to the stage, Effie takes it from there and guides me to the seat next to Katniss.  Katniss was still shaking, and her eyes were blood shot.  She's not crying anymore, but I'm sure she will be momentarily.

    I didn't focus on anything else the rest of the reaping.  Not even Haymitch, our drunk victor that's to help us with sponsers and such, who made a fool of himself.  Not Effie, who I heard Crowned us District 12 tributes.  I will never see this district again, Is all I could think.  Never.