The bed was cold again. Katniss craned his neck, and could just barely make out the shape of his younger sister, Prim moving quietly out of the room and into the kitchen. With a glance at his father's old watch, Katniss decided it was about time he got going. Slipping out of bed and past his mother's own, he crept quietly towards the old leather boots that had molded themselves to his feet, they were so old. Slipping them on, Katniss sighed in relief at the feel of the old cracked leather. Shrugging on his jacket, Katniss slipped out the front door of the rickety old house, a small smile directed at his sister and a scowl and threat at the horrible, ugly, cat his sister had named Buttercup. It was still early, the shutters were still drawn, curtains were closed, and doors were locked tight. The Seam was still void of miners this early in the morning, and those who were awake stayed inside. Katniss could understand. He understood why today mothers kept their children indoors, why today miners and working parents and children of all ages were reluctant to climb out of bed and travel outside. Why today there was an anxious air hanging depressingly over the district.
Even that was enough to set Katniss's pace, as he ran silently towards the districts border, a useless fence that is supposed to be electrified every hour of the day, but was not. Easily slipping under the chain fence, Katniss stopped only once to grab his bow and arrows from an abandoned log. For most, it would be difficult to find his and Gale's hiding spot, a overhang shrouded with blackberry bushes and other plants, sheltered from view by large rocks. It was well-hidden from those who didn't know where to look, but it provided a perfect view of the Seam and it's people. By the time Katniss had arrived Gale was already there, the same cocky smile on his face as always. "Hey, Catnip." he greeted. Gale and Katniss looked a lot alike, like most people from the Seam did. With olive skin and their dark hair and gray eyes, they had been mistaken for brothers on many occasions.
"Hey, Prim left us cheese." Katniss replied immediately, plopping down next to his hunting partner and best friend. Gale smiled, making him look as charming as always. "Thank you, Prim." he praised, hands accepting his portion of the cheese. Gale set it aside and pulled out a small loaf of bread. Katniss gasped and snatched it from his hands. "Oh no way, is this real?" he exclaimed, pushing his nose into the bread's crust. Gale smiled. "Yeah, it only cost me two squirrels too. Guess Mr. Mellark was feeling a bit sentimental today?" he laughed. Katniss chose not to comment and instead shivered in delight as the treat touched his tongue, the cheese Prim had left them melting on the still warm bread. Gale had picked a handful of blackberries and was tossing them high above his head and into his mouth. "Happy Hunger Games-" he prompted, tossing a berry at him.
Katniss opened his mouth just in time to catch the berry-"And may the odds ever be in your favor." he finished, the berry exploding in his mouth with flavor. Gale's eyes drifted off towards the Seam until something caught his eye. Gale jabbed Katniss in the shoulder. "Hey, it's the baker's daughter again." he said grinning slyly at Katniss. Katniss flushed and punched Gale lightly on the shoulder before craning to see her.
And there she was.
Peeta Mellark, by far the prettiest girl to live in District 12 had stopped outside his door, like she did every three days by his count. Long blonde hair that streamed down her back, perfect fair skin, stunning blue eyes and a figure to match, Peeta was most definitely the apple of every man's eye in the Seam, her looks almost seeming foreign in the land of coal and dirt. Peeta knocked on the door, and immediately the door was flung open and Prim practically tackled Peeta in a hug. Even from up their overhang Katniss could see her smile down at his little sister. The laughed and talked soundlessly as she lead his sister out of the Seam and towards her family's bakery, where she took and taught Prim to bake and showed her the cakes that she had iced earlier. Prim adored Peeta, Katniss could even remember the multiple times where they would wander past the bakery window and Prim would wave at Mr. Mellark and simply gush over the cakes they couldn't afford.
Gale began laughing loudly. "Geez Catnip, the way you're staring at her you'd think you're trying to stare through her clothes!"
I could tell they were watching me again. Eyes followed me everywhere, like I was some foreigner from the Capitol. I don't understand, there are many girls much prettier than me, taller, fitter, that had longer necks and weren't so darn clumsy. All I knew was how to bake and ice cakes, I couldn't provide for my family, all I knew were household duties, I wasn't fit to be outside the bakery. But I did, just to see him, just for a glimpse of leather boots disappearing into the woods, a swish of a game bag, anything. I was snapped out of my thoughts by a wolf whistle from across the street.
"Hey girlie, you lookin' for a good time?" the old man cackled, eyes glazed over with liquor. I could feel my neck stiffen as I unintentionally curled into myself, crossing my arms in front of me. I could understand why the man was drunk so early in the morning, it was a way people distracted themselves, drowning themselves in a brown bottle. The Reaping. It was just another way that the Capitol taught us they controlled us, to engrave fear into the bones of us and our families, because that was one of the two things the Capitol had over us; fear and The Hunger Games, their ultimate way of flaunting their power, by making twenty-four of the districts children lock in a desperate battle to win, to survive another day, to bring glory to their district once more. To show us how easily we will turn against each other for another day, another scrap of food, how easily we would slay others for glory, for an ounce of power.
A small house that tilted slightly sat closely to the ground, the shutters drawn shut, as most of the houses on the street were. One knock. Two Knocks. I paused before knocking once more. It was my way of letting Prim know it was me, since Katniss was so protective of her she was only allowed to answer the door for people she knew. I could hear excited laughter long before the door was flung open, the hinges squeaking in protest. Prim tackled me in a hug almost, clinging to my waist. I smiled gently down at her, hugging her back and stroking her hair. The soft scent of soap drifted off of her and I breathed it in deeply. I had begun to think of Prim as a younger sister I never had, all my siblings being older and boys. Sometimes I wish I had been born a boy, I feel my mother wouldn't be disappointed in me, wouldn't look at me in disapproval and disgust. I shook my head to rid myself of these thoughts, today was grim enough, I shouldn't force myself to think about the more depressing things in my life.
"Hello Prim, how are you?" I asked smiling gently at the younger blonde. I could tell she was going to be beautiful when she got older, she was already so pretty now. Blue eyes crinkled with the grin that split across her fair face. "Oh I'm fine, thank you! And you are?" she replied politely, her hand clasping mine as I slowly lead her out of the Seam. "Oh, I'm alright. I frosted some new cakes today down at the bakery, my father was kind enough to make an extra one that we could both frost." I informed, a small smile crossing my face briefly at her excited expression. "Peeta, your father is the best!" she giggled.
Sometimes I was amazed at Prim's innocence, how she could live contentedly with her life, the only pains she knew were hunger, her father dead before she could remember. Her brother a strong man who could provide for them, and it wasn't a secret about how their mother had shut down but was slowly being revived with time. I sometimes envied the younger blonde, but it was wrong, I knew. I had more money, I dressed nicer, I was better fed, but truly I wished I was in her position. I was unhappy, and useless, just that pretty girl behind the bakery's counter, simply known as the baker's daughter.
Prim squeezed my hand. "Peeta, you seem sad, is something wrong?" she frowned at me, her brow crinkling in concern. A tight smile spread across my face. "Oh, I was just thinking about the Reaping this afternoon," I lied easily. I ran a thumb across the back of her hand. "It's your first year, are you nervous?" I asked her.
She was silent for a moment. "Terrified." she answered quietly. I frowned softly at the sad look on her face. "Well, let's forget about The Reaping right now, there's a cake waiting to be frosted!" I tried cheering her up. She gave me a smile and we took off, the smell of baking bread wafting across the square.
We spent an hour frosting the cake, I let her do the piping and choose the design, I let her lick the icing from the whisk, I snuck her a bun from the fresh loaves. Just for today, I pampered her more than I usually would, braiding her hair back and helping her wash for The Reaping. I provided her with my first Reaping dress, though she tried denying profusely. "Oh no," she gasped, waving her hands in front of her, " You've already done so much for me!" she said, gently pushing the silky fabric back at me from across the table. I smiled. "But you'd look so pretty! I want you to look nice today!" I laughed, gently nudging the dress back at her. "Please, it would make me very happy."
Reluctantly, Prim shrugged on the dress. It was a bit big on her, the back forming a little duck tail.I snapped my fingers, "Oh I know, I have the perfect thing to finish it!" I dug in my small collection of jewelry for a moment before bringing a pin out and pinning it to her chest, careful not to stick her with it. "It's a Mockingjay," I informed her, smoothing her hair,"To protect you always."
Prim spun once, the dress floating around her, before grinning slyly at me. "Now I get to make you look pretty!" she giggled. I backtracked. "O-oh no, I- I mean-" I blushed furiously. Prim laughed at the red blotch spreading across my face and skipped a circle around me, "Oh come on, you want to look nice for my brother right?" she smirked. I mentally cursed my admitting of a crush on her brother, I knew she would hold it over my head for the rest of my life, and then some. I sighed. "Alright," I agreed. She squealed in delight and dove for my dresser, picking out a light blue dress that was soft and cottony to the touch and just reached my knees. I allowed her to braid my hair and brush my bangs back, weaving them with a flower, a dandelion, just behind my ears.
I looked at the antique analog clock on my wall. "You better go," I warned her, "Your brother will have a heart attack if your'e not there when he gets back." I chuckled. Prim laughed before hugging me around the waist and dashing out the steps and out the door, back in the direction of the Seam. I brushed my fingers across the soft surface of the dandelion.
The Hunger Games.
Katniss frowned when he arrived home, the distinct lack of his sister making him worry. Usually she was back by now, right? A bang of the back door and the sound of running feet answered his question as his sister flew in, a flustered dove in flight, dressed differently then she had been when she'd left. His eyebrows knit together. "Where on earth did you get that dress?" he questioned. Prim grinned hugely at him. "Oh, Peeta gave it to me," she chirped, " she said she wanted me to look nice for my first Reaping."
Her smile dimmed slightly as she remembered the fact. "You should wash, you'd like to look good for The Reaping as well." she stated. Katniss sighed dramatically before ruffling his sister's hair, hands batted away with a squealed laughter of, "No, Peeta just did it!" Katniss laughed also and headed off towards the bathroom, and was surprised to find a warm bath waiting for him. Blinking, Katniss turned and kept a stony face at his mother, who was leaning in the doorway. He could provide for himself, and he did. For himself, for his sister, and for his mother, who had abandoned them in their time of need after their father had died. He tried to forgive her for shutting down, he did, but that didn't mean he could.
"I ran a bath and set out some nice clothes for you." she said quietly. Katniss nodded stiffly, watching as his mother slowly exited the bathroom, silently shutting the door behind her. Katniss washed himself throughly, scrubbing harshly and massaging the soap through his hair and digging the dirt from under his nails. When the water was finally cold and murky did Katniss get out, to find his father's best slacks and button up waiting for him. Quietly, he dressed himself, secretly relishing in the soft feel of cotton, the remaining wisps of his father's aftershave still there. He inhaled deeply and tucked in his shirt, before straightening and wiping whatever remorseful expression remained on his face. Katniss simply grunted at the knock on the door, smiling gently as his sister entered. He chuckled deeply and spun his sister around, and tucked the torso of her dress into the elastic waistband around her middle. "Tuck you tail in, little duck," he sighed softly.
Prim giggled and tugged on her brothers warm, calloused hand leading him out the door and down the street, which was flooded with others heading to the square where The Reaping would be held this year, where it was held every year. Grim faces surrounded them, some lined with coal and age, others young and terrified. And those who wandered the crowd, faces dead of emotion, some in a haze of liquor, the only way to drown out the loss of their loves ones, others taking bets secretly, on who would be picked and sentenced to slaughter this year. A stage and multiple screens had been set up in front of the Justice Hall, a stony marble building that stooped proudly amongst the rest of the squat, coal-lined buildings, a steeple rising above the rest of the surrounding buildings low peaks. Effie Trinket stood on the stage, her ridiculous metallic business suit glinting in the sun. The mayor and a few other officials and District 12's head peacekeepers sat on the stage, whispering nervously and gesturing towards an empty folding chair amongst their midst.
"Welcome all, and a happy Hunger Games to you!" Effie trilled, her voice high and nasal enough without her silly forced Capitol accent. Katniss snorted quietly under his breath. He was secretly disgusted with the Capitol, how they treated The Hunger Games as if it were a sport, as if men and women didn't lose their children each year, as if the figures on the television were simply faking their deaths. While the Capitol people sat back, getting fat off their districts provisions and making themselves up in what they thought was beautiful. Katniss peered around, hoping to catch wind of Peeta, but having no such luck.
During his thoughts, Katniss just barely caught the end of the boring monologue, the speech that was recited even year, that was bored into his brain, into every fiber of his being. A long, unfortunate story about the how Panem rose from the ashes of what used to be considered a modern society, how the Capitol divided them, how the Capitol bombed District 13 into nothingness, how they neutralized the uprisings. And how The Hunger Games were a reminder, a way to remind the districts that they held complete power over them, that they could do very well as they please, how any Capitol citizen could waltz into their houses whenever they felt, and how powerless they were against the fact. For if a hand was raised against any citizen of the Capitol in violence or defense, there would be hell. There would be The Hunger Games.
Effie cackled into the microphone, it screeching loudly at her high tones. I scrunched my nose every time she spoke, her voice high and unpleasant to those without Capitol training of withstanding it's horrible noise. It was agony to listen to the history of Panem each year, to hear her voice crack every few words and to be blinded by her shiny clothing and wig, which never failed to slide sideways in an amusing fashion each year.
The only District 12 victor stumbled on stage at this moment, as drunk as he was every year. He planted a sloppy kiss on Effie's cheek and I snickered quietly into my hand as she made a face that showed how much she wanted to shrivel up and wipe the droopy kiss off her cheek. I forced myself to make a straight face. This was not an appropriate way to act at something the Capitol thought was merely an amusing T.V. show, which was really a sacrifice, a way that we saved our own skins another year, by acting morbid at the losses of but were secretly overjoyed that it was not us, not this year.
"Ladies first!" she screeched in the microphone, a loud whine coming from the abused thing. She skipped over to the glass bowl that held the names of every girl in the district from the age of 12 to 18, some more than others as they withdrew grain and other goods for their families. I sneaked a look at Katniss, who stood amongst the other sixteen-year-old boys. Please, I thought, spare him, please, for his sister, for me. I begged. Effie withdrew her hand from the glass globe, a single piece of paper grasped between manicured nails. She cleared her throat before reading the name on the paper.
"Primrose Everdeen." she cooed.
Something inside me went cold. The coldness settled into the pit of my stomach. I glanced at Katniss, at his clenched jaw, his wide eyes, his paling face. The tension in his neck looked painful as he stood erect, looking as if he was physically restraining himself from tackling the peacekeepers who were escorting Prim onto the stage. I knew Katniss would volunteer in a moment, if he was able to. Boys were not allowed to volunteer for girls, and vice versa. Static buzzed in my ears. My lips moved silently, even I wasn't able to hear what I said. The few people who did hear me stared in shock, most likely recognizing me from the counter in the bakery. My lips moved again, and this time I heard myself.
"I volunteer as tribute."
My voice was shaky, but loud, and everyone was staring. The camera's had focused on my face and I could see myself, wide-eyed and pale on the large flatscreen. The crowd parted silently as I made my way to the stage. I could see Katniss out of the corner of my eye, face as white as a sheet, maybe even more so. His jaw was grinding back and forth, it was almost painful to watch, I couldn't imagine how it felt. I didn't know why I had volunteered, I can't provide for myself, I hadn't gone a day hungry, I was slow when running, I couldn't climb a tree to save my life. The most I knew were household duties. My mother's sneering face flashed before my eyes. The perfect little housewife she called me, right before locking me in the closet for crying.
"Come along, dearie, we haven't got all day!" Effie smiled, but I could see the little impatient twitch at the corner of her mouth. I was shoved on stage by a faceless peacekeeper, almost tripping on the last step. I was so clumsy, I'd probably trip if I stood still long enough. Effie shoved the microphone in my face, startling me. "Your name?" she sung. I swallowed so loud I was sure everyone heard me,"Peeta Mellark."
Prim was fighting tears, her dainty hands clenched in the folds of her dress. "Peeta, no!" she protested, trying to drag me offstage, fighting the peacekeepers who tried to carry her off. Finally, the dam broke and she burst into tears, gripping the ribbon on the back of my dress. Gale came forward,we had only spoken a few times, and carried a tearful and shrieking Prim off the stage. He nodded once at me, face solemn. Effie smiled, but even she seemed a bit somber. "Excellent, we have our female tribute! And for the boys!" she said giddily, galloping over to the glass bowl, practically filled to the brim with white slips of paper.
I could feel them staring again. This time, it was like they were actually seeing me, not my face or my body, no not even the cakes I iced. This time, they were seeing the baker's daughter, and it was at my weakest moment. They weren't seeing the sweet girl who taught the younger girls games or how to braid hair, they weren't seeing the kind fair girl people always made me out to be, who I was. They were seeing the frail girl that had spent most her life hiding behind a counter, behind the title that was branded to her from her first breath. It was the first time they saw, met, the baker's daughter. And I was petrified.
Effie wasted no time in plucking the first paper her spidery fingers touched. Before she had even read the name my heart had sunk, my breath had caught in my throat and I was already accepting my death sentence. Effie's high voice shattered the heavy air in the square.
If it was possible, my luck had gotten even worse.
Katniss made his way to the stage, gray eyes intense and staring forward, gaze unrelenting on the curtain behind the stage. Katniss had bit his tongue to keep from yelling out to his sister, for his sister, and the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. Only once he reached the stage did he finally stop glaring daggers at the velvety curtain, instead locking eyes with the lens of the camera and every citizen of Panem, taking their breaths away. He stood stiffly next to the flustered Effie, who had gotten caught in the trance with the rest of Panem. "Katniss Everdeen," she repeated, hands fluttering nervously, "Well I bet my buttons that was your sister earlier, no?" she gave a high-pitched giggle. Katniss nodded, stance as still and sturdy as a solider, stony demeanor fading not once, though Peeta caught a glimpse of moisture in the corner of his eyes.
"And now, I present to you, District 12's male and female tributes, Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen!"
District 12 was silent, all remembering the boy who had more than once fed them and their children,and the girl who would smile and listen to any poor soul who wandered into her family bakery. Very slowly, as if in a trance, all of District 12 moved in synch, tipping three fingers to their lips before holding them out, as if reaching for them. A symbol of respect, a way of saying goodbye to a loved one. A last wish, it was District 12's gift goodbye to the baker's daughter and the man who fed all their families, wether he knew it or not.
Peacekeepers rushed Katniss and Peeta off the stage and into the Justice Building, the large stony doors shutting with a resounding boom. Peeta and Katniss were separated and brought into different rooms. When Katniss was finally alone, only then did he show some weakness. Tears rose to his eyes and his throat constricted, his nose burning. A strangled sob tried to rip itself from his throat. He sat heavily on the worn velvet couch behind him. His hands shook and wavered as they swam in and out of sight, yet he refused to cry. A bitter smile wormed it's way across his face. At least it was him, not Prim, and it would have, if it hadn't been for-
A strangled sob died in his throat and a lump formed. How may times would he owe the life of himself, of his family to that girl? How many times must he reminded of the debt he was in to the baker's only daughter, the one who had saved his younger sister from slaughter, from hunger? The door swung open and Prim rushed in, followed by his mother. At the sight of her usually strong, dependent brother collapsed on the couch on the verge of tears, Prim wasted no time in shedding them for him. Prim clutched to him and sobbed hysterically into his shirt, silent tears streaking down his mother's cheeks.
"Hey, hey, Prim it's gonna be alright, okay? Gale's gonna bring you game and money, and you can sell cheese from your goat, alright?" Katniss soothed, smoothing his sisters hair with warm, experienced hands that flowed through her hair like it was water. Prim sniffled into his shirt,"Promise you'll try to make it back, right?"
Katniss gave her a strained smile, "I'll try." Prim grabbed the front of his shirt, and pinned something to it. It was a pin, a shiny golden one with a Mockingjay seemingly caught mid-flight in the middle, an arrow cradled in it's claws. "To protect you always," Prim whispered. Katniss kissed the top of her head before moving past her and grasping his mother's shoulder's making her meet his serious gaze. "You can't shut down again." he told her firmly.
"I won't-" she whispered, starting when she was forcefully cut off by Katniss. "You can't! Prim needs you now, I'm not gonna be here to take care of us! You can't shut everything out again,not like you did when dad died." he told her, shaking her shoulders lightly. Peacekeepers entered and Prim was dragged out in tears, his mother moseying out after them, a new light in her eyes. Gale burst into the room before the door could even fully shut, rushing to Katniss and griping his shoulders almost painfully tight. "Katniss, you gotta survive."
"No! You gotta survive, if you can get your hands on a bow-"
"Gale!" Katniss interrupted,"It's not the same, I'm not killing animals, these are people that have families, I can't!" he cried.
Gale's eyes softened, "So do you Catnip. A family that needs you." The peacekeeper barked through the door that their time was up, before bursting in a dragging Gale out. "You'll take care of them right?" Katniss yelled over the struggles and grunts they were making as they dragged him away. "Of course!" Gale yelled back before the door slammed behind them and there was silence once more.
When Katniss boarded the train to the Capitol, Peeta was already sitting in the dining cart with Haymitch and Effie, head down so none could see her face. Just the sight of her made the lump form in Katniss's throat again. He bit his lip. Effie cleared her throat. "Well, this is Haymitch, he'll be your mentor for the games," Effie introduced, her Capitol accent breaking the somber silence of the cart, some reflecting on just barely brushing death, some accepting it, and some determined to beat it. Haymitch looked up through his scraggly blonde bangs, and scratched the beginning of stubble, observing them. "Oh, so we've got a baker and a pretty-boy, huh?" Haymitch snorted, "District 12 is sure to win this year, huh?"
Katniss was having a glare off with the older man when Peeta stood suddenly. "Excuse me," she said softly, smoothing her dress, eyes dry and head tilted as if she was of nobel birth. "I 'm heading to my room now," she stated, before exiting the dining cart and heading of the her own room, a cart entirely to herself. Silence as the door closed behind her. Haymitch scoffed and downed another glass of spirits, his teeth clinking against the edge of the glass as he said, "Oh, and apparently she thinks she's royalty too."
Katniss made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat which sounded like a growl of challenge to Haymitch. He raised an eyebrow, "Wanna go, pretty-boy? Sorry if I insulted your girlfriend."
Katniss turned on his heel, a sneer of disgust curling onto his face, he already despised the man who smelt of alcohol after a few minutes with him, but if it was a way to win the Hunger Games, he would put up with him, for Prim.
Only once the door slammed shut behind me did I collapse with my back to it, the fibers of the carpet digging into my knees. He was wearing my pin. The pin I had given to Prim to protect her from the Hunger Games. I snorted into my knees, fat lot of good that did. Even if she hadn't ended up in the Hunger Games, he did. I hugged my knees. He had something in District 12, he had people, he had a loving family that he provided for, a friend that would die for him. What did I have? I had my cakes, I had my face, which both could be replaced easily, I could easily be replaced. My father would mourn me for some time, Prim would be upset, but life would go on, just with one less pretty face, one less iced cake.
I could still feel my mother's cold hands cupping my face, her nails digging lightly into my chin as she gave my a tight-lipped smile, eyes cold. "Maybe District 12 will finally have a victor." she told me, eyes chilling with that usual disapproving glint.
For once, I could agree with my usually cold and distant mother. District 12 would have a victor this year, only it wouldn't be me. I was determined to get Katniss home, back where he belonged. Wether it was helping him when he was wounded or throwing myself into line of fire, I would deliver that boy home, where he was needed, where he was wanted. My fists clenched the delicate fabric of my Reaping dress and tears sprung to my eyes, a shaky smile pressing itself into my kneecaps. And that pin, that pin would be a reminder. Every time it flashed in the light, every time it would adorn his clothes, it would serve to remind me why I was here.
I was here so Katniss could go home.
I grinned and pressed my hands to my cheeks. I would do anything, to deliver the boy with the intense gray eyes home, where he was needed. "Let it be known from today forth," I whispered to myself, as if to make it official, "That the baker's daughter will return the boy with the intense eyes home."
For some reason, a blanket of calm settled over me. I had accepted the fact that I was going to die. I was going into the arena, but never coming back out. But Katniss would, I would make sure of it. Because that was my duty, it was my title, branded across me from when I was born, I was the fair, sweet, daughter who enjoyed most everyone's company, who played with and watched the younger children, who was so clumsy, that when she tripped, ten people in the street would stop to help her.I was the baker's daughter, a title I hid behind my whole life. And I would die with that title. I would die, Katniss would live, and I would be happy.
Because the odds will be in his favor, wether I have to make them that way or not.
A/N: FINALLY. After three straight days of typing until I thought my fingers would go numb, I FINALLY finished it. And you know what? I'm damn proud of this! I got the idea for this stuck in my head a couple of week's ago, how I felt the Hunger Games would "Go Down" if Peeta and Katniss's genders had been switched. That one phrase, "The Baker's daughter" kept popping up, it just stuck for some reason. Alright, and before I get those whiny, bitch little review that say-
"LOL Katniss is a chick dork!"
"Omg Peeta dis like the cutest guy ever, liek, why'd you make him girly and stuff~?"
"Go burn, this is so stupid."
"Lol omg wtf!"
NO. I forbid reviews like this. I FORBID IT! I want meaningful reviews, not flames and shit, and please, if your gonna flame, make it smart, well thought out ones please? If they are, I will graciously bathe in those flames and maybe accept thou's advice. Anyways, I've probably lost the attention of all the shorter attention span people out there, but if your'e still reading this good for you, and don't tell the lower life forms, but I'm insulting them~!
Anyways, thanks for reading and do me a BIG favor and review? Puh-LEASE?