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Post by Katniss Everdeen on Sept 7, 2010 20:36:02 GMT -5
The announcer stood up on the podium, ready to make the announcement of who was picked in the reaping for District 12. As the announcer silenced the crowd, with all the parents watching, knowing that he was sending their children into certain death. Unless they beat the odds.
"Attention" his voice boomed out.He knew that since there were no Careers, there would most likely be no one to step up and take spots.
"The two Tributes will have to step up here, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark" he said as he saw an older teenager walk up towards him. Then a girl clung to the other as she walked up towards the podium..
"Anyone willing to take either of their spots?" he said as both tributes had finally made it to the platform.
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Post by Camellia Vincent on Sept 7, 2010 20:46:18 GMT -5
Mel watched in horror as Peeta and Catniss’ names were called out. She was horrified at the idea of them in the arena, the fear of losing her only friends. Mel felt tears swell in her eyes, her father could live without her, but Prim needed Catniss, “Wait, stop, I will, I’ll take Catniss’ place!!” It was all so sudden, so without thought that it disorientated her. “Please, I will.” She felt tears in her eyes, she knew that she would not be coming back, that she would have to keep Peeta alive…
Mel looked down at her purple reaping day dress, probably one of the last sights of district twelve that she would ever see. “Camellia Vincent…” She whispered her name. It was only at her birth, and now at her death that anyone had ever referred to her as Camellia. True, the name had always been lurking beneath the cover of Mel, waiting for a moment like this. Mel felt some of her hair fall down from the organized bun that she had worked so hard on. She felt her face become drained of color, and the idea came to mind. She would save Peeta, save him, and make sure that he came home.
Mel could remember the first day that they met. Peeta coaxing her out of the woods. His reassurance. Now, it was her turn to return the favor, her turn to save him. She looked up at him and nodded her head, hoping that he would know what she meant, but also hoping someone would take his place, so she could live, so she could fight for only her life, however, she doubted such a thing would happen. “I’m sorry mom.” And then she put on her emotionless face and began to make her way towards the stage… Damn, she thought, these next few days were going to be very trying, and certainly not the best days of her death.
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Post by Peeta Mellark on Sept 9, 2010 1:48:56 GMT -5
Peeta drew up to his full height. He was a few inches taller than his father, now. They locked eyes. They stood in the center of the bakery, a 'Closed' sign hung at the door. His father's chin was trembling. It was so unlike that stalwart father of his to be openly emotional. Impulsively, Peeta leaned forward, throwing his big hands around the thinner man's neck. Peeta could feel his heaving chest and stayed embracing him to avoid seeing any tears. Peeta, too, felt a tightening in his chest.
The Mellark family had suffered through dozens of Reaping days, of course. First Peeta's two older brothers, and then Peeta himself. But today felt oddly different. Peeta and his father could both feel it, the foreboding in the air. With a final squeeze, Peeta pulled back. His father hurriedly wiped his nose and cheeks, his eyes were still red, but otherwise, no evidence of tears. Peeta grimaced, wanting to cry himself.
The small staircase leading to their upstairs flat creaked as Mrs. Mellark made her way down. 'We'd best be off,' she said brusquely. Even she was getting emotional, her brisk attitude gave her away.
She made her way out first, a small bell tinkling overhead as she pushed out of the door. Peeta and his father remained a moment, staring at each other. Mr. Mellark moved first, to adjust Peeta's tie, then he turned and exited. With one last look around the shop, and the overwhelming feeling that it would be his last time here, Peeta left.
The square was still half empty when the Mellarks arrived. He saw his parents to the area where his older brothers and their wives were, then bid them goodbye to go join the seventeen-year-olds. The crowd was alternately antsy and silent; some shifting side to side, others still as the dead.
The ceremony sped by, Peeta paying, what appeared to be rapt attention. But it was only a way for him to distract himself from what was coming.
The Reaping had begun.
'Katniss Everdeen.' It took a moment for him to absorb the name. And then he was searching the crowd for her face. He found it, and a part of him died. She took the stage; Peeta has stopped breathing and then--
'Peeta Mellark.' His world fell away. This wasn't happening. He had to protect Katniss. For Prim, for her mother, for himself. He had to die. He could picture the moment. He hoped to god that it wouldn't have to be Katniss who did it.
His mind was blank. Blank. Blank. In a haze he walked up the stage. His feet moved, but he had no control over them. He could see it happening, but it was like he was floating above the Square, watching the proceedings.
And then, the unthinkable. Peeta could see her face, hear her whisper her own name, but he comprehended nothing. He almost broke down right there on the stage.
'Mel...' he whispered, echoing her. Why had she done it?
But it didn't much change things. While Peeta didn't love Mel in quite the same way he loved Katniss, he still loved her. And he would still have to die.
It didn't fit protocol, but he groped for her hand and reached it; he squeezed it. It grounded him, and for the first time in five minutes, he was thinking straight. Mellie and I can make it. Will make it. That thought kept him alive for the moment. But eventually he would have to finish it. Mel will have to kill me.
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