Hello! This is Wolf-Lover-Girl, and this is the story of Peeta Mellark, the boy tribute from District 12, whom, I feel, is greatly overshadowed by Katniss. So, I have decided to write the first novel, ironically, named the Hunger Games, in his point of view! Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: This is purely for entertainment, I don't own any of the book, Suzanne Collins did!

I opened an eye groggily. The reaping day. Had a whole year passed already? I grunted and turned round, pulling the covers up to my chin. Might as well have a long lie…

"Peeta Mellark, get up right now!"

Baker's boy. Baker's hours. Bakers work.

How could I forget? Mumbling, I stood up, pushing the hair out of my eyes. I pulled on my reaping clothes, a discoloured white shirt, and brown trousers. I plodded downstairs, to see Caine already working. His face was sweated, his blond hair plastered against his skull. "Give me a hand Peeta." He gasped, struggling to lift a heavy tray into the oven. On the count of three we hoisted it to shoulder-height, and then eased it into the fiery chasm. He clapped my shoulder, and then studied me. "You okay? Nervous?" It was against my nature to lie, so I merely shrugged and whispered.

"I've got less chance than the Seam kids." Caine nodded.

"If you were chosen, I would volunteer, but you know I can't."

Caine was lucky, he was 19 now. I knew he would volunteer for me. Rhys on the other hand….he wouldn't. He would be drunk out of his mind, just like that guy that won the Quarter Quell from our district.

"Peeta! Caine! Rhys! Time to leave!" My mother hollered, and I tried not to let my nerves show as I followed Caine obediently.

It was packed. The children were like sardines in a tin. I looked to see what other boys were in my section. My friends wore looks of fear and some anger.

My eyes found her. Standing alone, her brown hair tied neatly in a braid, in a stunning dress. Katniss Everdeen. I prayed to the God I didn't believe in that she would not be picked. I remember what happened to her father and felt waves of sympathy. I tried to work up the courage to talk to her when I was younger, but her independence and her hunting skills forbade me. How I regretted that now.

As the mayor droned on about something to do with the Games, I watched her. The crease in her forehead, the keen eyes that scanned the boys section. My heart jumped with eagerness, was she looking for me? I straightened, but her eyes had met Gale Hawthorne's. Of course, how stupid of me. I sighed, and turned to Effie Trinket. Her luminous pink hair nearly blinded me.

"Ladies first!" I risked a glance at Katniss, but her eyes were focused on Effie, for the first time a little fear entered.

"Primrose Everdeen."

I felt myself sag. Katniss's adorable little sister, who I watched as she examined my frosting through the window. The smiles exchanged in the street. I felt myself prickle with the injustice. Then, to my horror, I saw Katniss rushing forward. No! I couldn't let her volunteer! I tried to push past, but a solid wall of bodies prevented me from even moving an inch. The words were already in the air.

"I volunteer!" Effie's gasp of delight, and congratulatory pep talk. I was getting funny looks, so I returned to my spot. I couldn't believe she was being torn out my life before I could talk to her properly. Katniss, the girl whom ever since that fateful day, I have never been able to shake her from my mind. Taken away from me by the Capitol to compete in their sadistic Games, and she would most probably be killed before I could ever say something to her. I feel myself trembling, not even listening to what was happening, and I see Gale pulling Prim away, which snaps me back into reality. I was too busy contemplating talking to her before she left, before I heard a familiar name being called.

"Peeta Mellark."