Chapter 1: Girls in blue dresses

I sit up with a loud gasp and my arms scratching at my chest, close to my heart. I keep my eyes closed for a long moment while I try to regain a normal breathing rhythm. The claustrophobic, closed in feeling slowly subsided, but I can't rid my brain of the memory of smoke and coal dust. What my mind remembers as my father's scream is no more than a figment of my imagination, but that doesn't make it seem any less real.

After I shake off the nightmare, I notice Prim's absence. She's most likely curled up with mother, as she does now and then when she gets scared. Hell, even I am scared today, so I don't blame her for crawling close to mother. Today is the day of the Reaping for the Hunger Games, a yearly 'celebration' organized by the Capitol to remind the districts of the consequences of rebelling. Over seventy years ago, District 13 began the rebellion against the Capitol. The Capitol retaliated by bombing District 13 to the ground, leaving nothing but rubble and ruins. The keep the remaining districts under strict control, the Capitol issued the Hunger Games. Every year each district would provide one male and one female tribute to fight in an arena, from where only one living victor would arrive.

I rise from the bed and sneak a quick peek at my mother's bed, and find Prim curled up next to her. She reminds me of a kitten sometimes, the way she curls up in her sleep. Her hair is as blonde as my mother's and both look so much younger in their sleep. Walking back into the other room and find my hunting clothes. I take a short moment to let my fingers run over my hunting jacket that belonged to my father. It's a big jacket for me and worn in most places, but the fabric is still strong and warm. I pull on some soft leather pants that has a bunch of leather straps to hang pouches from. I pull on a pair of long, cured boots and lastly the hunting jacket.

On my way outside I notice a small white cheese on the kitchen table. It's wrapped so delicately in paper that Prim's touch is prominent. I take the cheese with a small smile and put it in my game bag for now, trying not to squash it. I slip out of the house as silently as a shadow.

The sun has risen ever so slightly when I walk through one of the mining streets of the district. Our part of the district is nicknamed the Seam and it crawls with miners. I see the roof of the Hob in the distance, but I take a different turn towards the Meadow. The Meadow is a large outstretched piece of grassland that forms the edge of District 12. The edge is marked by a high electric fence that climbs several meters up in the sky and is topped with barbed wire.

I take shelter in some underbrush for a moment to listen for any buzzing. The electric fence is rarely activated this time of year, but it's always wise to be careful. As I do not hear the faint buzzing an activated fence would emit, I swiftly find the gap in the fence and work my way underneath it.

The moment I reach the tree line beyond the fence, I feel relief flood over me. This is where I am most comfortable and in my element. I trudge through the woods for about half an hour until I reach the hollow tree trunk where my bow and quiver are hidden. I let my fingers run over the strong wood and the feathers of the arrows, before slinging the quiver across my back and firmly grip the bow with my hand. The bow was crafted by my father and is both old and worn, but still effective and strong. The bow is, like my hunting jacket, one of the only things that I still have that belonged to my father, but it is so much more than just a trinket holding a memory. The bow has been the item that has kept me and my family alive. Father learned me how to shoot the bow when I was very young, and necessity has enhanced my skill further over the years. With food shortages and a lack of money, the game I brought home and sold at the Hob kept us fed enough to survive.

I shake my head and sigh. One of the Capitol's favourite activities is trying to make us believe that we are better off here in the districts, than outside in the wilderness. The electric fence protects us from predators and in exchange for work, we get food. The Capitol's propaganda seeks to make us believe we should be grateful. But starving during winter months does not much in the Capitol's favour, at least not in the Seam.

"The Capitol provides us with safety to starve in! How good they are to us!" I mutter softly, pulling a weak imitation of Effie Trinket. Effie Trinket is the districts representative in the Hunger Games. She comes originally from the Capitol, as does her colourful wig collection and wardrobe.

My thoughts are disturbed when I arrive in a small clearing that provides a pleasant view of the nearby valley. I look around the clearing and observe the nearby trees. It is not often I am first to arrive here. My suspicions are confirmed when a lump of bread comes flying at me. I catch it with my free and bring it to my nose with a smile. The bread still smells faintly of the oven and of spices, making this kind of bread a rarity for any who live in the Seam. Jumping from a nearby tree comes Gale, which brings yet another smile to my face. He bows deeply when he lands and I allow a soft applause by clapping the hand holding my bow against my thigh.

"Hey Catnip", says Gale, and I suppress a wince at that nickname. After mishearing it when we first met, Gale has never let that nickname go.

"Morning Gale", I greet him back and break the loaf of bread in half, throwing the other half back at him. "That's some good bread", I pull the cheese from my bag and show it to Gale. "That and Prim's cheese will give us a downright feast."

Gale fake lunges at my hand bearing the cheese and over dramatically falls to the ground near my feet. "Oh mighty Catnip! So brave to trespass in the wilderness and defy the Capitol! Have some mercy and share some cheese with this pitiful peasant.."

I suppress a grin and yank him upwards again, then gently break the cheek into two. Gale immediately continues his act. "Oh merciful Catnip, thank you for-" I cut him off by firmly kicking his shin while muttering something dark.

"Okay, okay." Gale grins as she grabs his shin for a moment, while balancing his bread and cheese in his other hand. His seriousness returns to his face as he spreads the cheese on the bread and takes a large bite. I realize I'm staring at him and turn my gaze away to do the same.

"So what do you want to do today?" Gale asks me as he slumps down beside me in the tall grass, taking another bite from his bread.

"Well, if your aim has improved since last week, I say we see if we can flush some rabbits out. Maybe finds some pheasants on the way." Gale snickers a little as I mention last week. We spend nearly every Sunday hunting and working up a small stock of meat and stuff to sell at the Hob to get through the week. Last week Gale had been so engrossed with insulting the Capitol that his aim with his bow had suffered and he had wasted his chances on catching some fine rabbits. Besides hunting, insulting the Capitol in the safety of the wilderness was Gale's favourite occupation. The week before that very Sunday had been a rough one, as the Peacekeepers had kicked and hit a young girl because she was out after curfew. Overall the Peacekeepers were quite decent in our district, but as soon as citizens grew a little bit too daring, they would set an example. Gale knew the girl, who was friends with his little brother Vick, and I had been forced to sort of drag him into the woods to prevent him from retaliating on the Peacekeepers.

"Trust me, there is nothing wrong with my aim", Gale mutters and rises as he had finished his bread. I follow him as he leads the way.

The patch were we usually flush out rabbits and pheasants alike is not far away, but as we get close we stop talking and soften our footsteps. I let Gale shoot, while I flush, and as soon as I am in position, I sign him to be ready. Gale draws his bow and lets the arrow rest against his cheek as he quietly nods at me. His stance is perfect, something I pride myself in having taught him that. Gale looks like a lynx during hunting, holding perfectly still while tensing up, ready to strike at precisely the right moment. I shake my head as I find myself staring at him in a strange trance. I catch his eyes and there is a mix of amusement and confusion in his steely grey eyes. I can feel my cheeks flush for a reason I am not willing to acknowledge and sprint from my cover, flushing rabbits and pheasants alike from the dense underbrush.

Gale manages to bring down two big pheasants as they take to the air in an attempt to escape and I manage to bring down a rabbit with a quick draw of my bow. As we gather our loot, I congratulate him.

"Congratulations, Master Hawthorne, it seems your aim was returned to thee." I make an effort to imitate his earlier accent and the result is pitiful, but Gale laughs nevertheless. He doesn't often laugh out loud and I grin at the sound of it.

We gather the rabbit and pheasants and return the way we came, back towards the district and back towards a world we both want to escape.

"I wish we could keep doing this", I sigh as we walk back.

"Do what? Hunting?" Gale looks briefly over his shoulder as we scale a small hill.

I nod at him. "Things will be different after this year's Reaping, will they not?" I increase my pace a little so that I can look to the side and see Gale's face. He wears a stony expression, but I know that anger smoulders underneath. This year is Gale's last Reaping, because he turned eighteen his year. Soon he will find a job in the mines and accompany the other miners into the depths of the earth in search of coal. He will have only one free day in the week, Sunday, but it is still uncertain if we can even spend that day hunting together.

"I don't want things to change", Gale says, his voice just as stony as the expression on his face. "But sometimes change is necessary."

I nod sadly. The mining job will give Gale a bigger income than he can gather with hunting, but mining is a dangerous profession. We both know that better than anyone as we both still have nightmares about our fathers being crushed in the mines. I only have my mother and Prim to feed, but Gale still has two more siblings to take care of. For a moment I feel the need to lift his spirits, but then I remember that it won't help, not today. Today is a grim reminder of our situation and the danger we constantly live in. Either you are picked for the Hunger Games and you die in the arena, or you live to survive the Reaping every year and will have to struggle the rest of your life to feed your loved ones. That is the way of the Seam.

When we have crawled back underneath the fence, Gale and I look at each other for a moment. Without a word, we wrap our arms around each other and stand there for a moment, simply holding each other. Then I grab my game bag and walk towards my house, looking over my shoulder for a last moment.

"See you in the square," I mutter.

"Wear something pretty," says Gale in return. "Wouldn't want to go to the Capitol underdressed.."

At home I scrub all the dirt off my body in semi-warm water. My mother has laid out a blue dress for me, one that belonged to her when she still lived in the town. I want to tell her it's too much and that I'll find something else to wear but she insists. After I am dressed, my mother begins to braid my hair while humming a soft tune. I don't recognize the song, but I do recognize the melody and I have to gulp down an imaginary lump in my throat. She only hums that tune when she is reminded of something sad, or when she is anxious. After she has finished, Prim asks me to twirl for her. I do so reluctantly, but her eyes light up in delight as my blue dress swirls ever so slightly around me.

"You look beautiful," says Prim.

"Not as beautiful as you, little duck," I tease half-heartedly, while tucking in the back of her white blouse. She hugs me close and my heart aches.

"I'm scared, Katniss," she whispers softly, burying her head against my chest.

"But there is no need to be afraid, little duck. There is no way that you will be pulled. You are only in there once."

Prim looks up to me for a moment, her eyes indicating that is not exactly what she meant. She is not scared for herself, but scared for me.

"Listen Prim, you just need to distract yourself.." I mutter softly as I cup her face.

"But how? How can I think of anything else than the Reaping?"

"You just have to think of other things. Happy things." I listen to my own words and realise how silly my comforting really is, but it's all I can offer her.

"Things like what?" Prim's voice is small. Almost as small as she really is.

"Well.. Kitten paws walking in the snow. Or.. grain broth with cinnamon and fruit. The first flowers of spring."

"Or girls in blue dresses with blue satin sashes," Prim grins up at me as she lets her fingers run along my blue dress. I nod and fake a smile and hug her as tightly as I can.

Prim, my mother and I eat in silence that seems to grow heavier with every second that passes. When we leave, my mother waves us out, working hard to keep up a smile that does not reach her eyes.

I firmly hold Prim's hand until we reach the square and we are forced to release each other. We file into our corresponding lines and sign in. After that we are herded into the square and lined up per age group. The adults and kids too young for the Reaping gather around the edges of the square, praying that the ones they love are not pulled.

As my eyes glide over the big glass ball that holds the girls' paper slips and wonder what would happen if someone shot that ball, causing it to shatter and release the paper slips to the wind. I grunt softly. Who am I kidding. Nothing would change. Nothing ever changes.

Mayor Undersee and Effie Trinket take their place on the stage. Effie looks ridiculous with her pink hair and long nails. She is wearing a green suit that sets off her hair and eyelashes, that have the same pink colour.

I zone out as Mayor Undersee begins his speech. It is the same as every year. The same history about Panem and how the Capitol brought civilization to a land of chaos. The Districts brought prosperity and peace to its citizens. But despite that gift, the citizens rebelled and District 13 was obliterated. The Dark Days were ended and the Hunger Games were initialized as a reminder for the districts. From 24 tributes provided by the districts, only one will remain standing.

As Mayor Undersee tells the history and the rules of the Games in a monotonous voice, I look for Prim in the crowd. She's standing, facing the stage with her arms crossed behind her back, a thing she only does when she is scared. She used to stand like that in the corner of our house as I tried to yell some sense into our distanced mother.

"It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks," the mayor says and ends his speech. Suddenly, the doors behind him open and a drunk Haymitch Abernathy stumbled onto the stage. He staggers into the third chair on the stage and remains there as she scowls at both the crowd and Effie Trinket, who seems to edge away from him and his drunk odour.

Effie Trinket takes the Mayor's place and talks to the crowd in her usual bubbly manner. Her extreme happiness with the Reaping is almost adorable. Almost.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" says Effie, smiling brightly as she spreads her arms, hopeful in receiving an applause, a cheer, anything. The crowd stays silent, though, and Effie bounces to the girls' ball of glass.

I see a glint of Gale as I glance towards the boys' side, and gulp as he wears the same dark expression he had in the woods. The odds are definitely not in his favour. He had been entered exactly forty two times. Amongst thousands of other slips this would not be a big issue, but still. Forty two slips with Gale's name on it. He's wearing a light blue shirt with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows. A small defiance against the big Capitol.

His blue shirt reminds me of my blue dress, and how Prim had looked when she had said those words.

Girls in blue dresses with blue satin sashes.

I am given no time to worry about Gale, though, because Effie has reached the girls' glass ball.

"Ladies first!" she says happily and reaches in, flexes her fingers with those unnatural long nails and digs in the large pile, emerging with a single slip of paper. The silence in the square is heavy, tensed and collective. I'm feeling nauseous and desperately pray that it is not my name that is written on that slip.

Effie Trinket crosses back to the microphone on the stage and reads out the name in a clear, bubbly voice.

"Primrose Everdeen!"