( memory | open to both courts )

[tensed]

[ the square of district 12 is small and surrounded by shops. the many bright banners hanging on the buildings conceal much of their aged and deteriorating facade. large screens line the rooftops. the square packed full of people, mostly children and teenagers organized according to their ages, the oldest in front — eighteen-year-olds, many too skinny and small for their age — to those aged twelve ( starvation making so many of them seem so much younger ) in the back. all of them face front to a stage seemingly erected for this moment.

yet despite what should be a festive atmosphere, a grim pall hangs over the crowd. the contagious alarm of prey that knows it is being hunted; the bated breath of the condemned waiting for the hands of the clock to signal the hour. the presence of the peacekeepers in their white uniforms only contributes to the miserable expectancy.

the town clock strikes two, and the mayor reads a story. not a new story judging by the faces of those gathered. the history of panem, the nation that rose out of the ashes of what had been north america. he lists the catastrophes that led to its end and to the birth of panem, a shining beacon of order and prosperity, until the dark days.

thirteen districts rose up against the capitol; twelve were defeated; the thirteenth was obliterated. the treaty of treason was signed, and as a yearly reminder of the capitol’s power, the hunger games were established.

the mayor finishes by reading the list of district 12’s victors: only two and only one still alive who stumbles onto the stage drunk. while haymitch makes a fool of himself, gale scans the crowd for a girl, slight and brown-haired, standing amid the sixteen-year-olds. katniss smiles, but her face soon falls; gale turns away before she does, in time for effie trinket, looking like a caricature of a human, to begin the reaping.

the crowd mutters unhappily. no one really reacts; no one attempts to stop the slip of a yellow-haired girl, her face drained of color, but walking resolutely toward the stage. no one except katniss who screams her sister’s name before she volunteers in prim’s place. gale’s moving too, pulling prim’s small hands from katniss’ dress and picking up the writhing and screaming child and securing her safely in his arms.

“up you go, catnip,” he says so only she hears before he marches with prim to where her mother waits. he lets mrs. everdeen take primrose from him and can only note with some satisfaction that no one applauds when effie asks them to. instead, silently, they make a sign: the three middle fingers on their left hand touched to their lips, then raised in the air. it doesn’t need a translation: it means respect; it means goodbye.

the second reaping passes quickly, though still too slow for gale. he cannot breathe in relief he was not chosen because katniss volunteered. he has to wait for her and peeta to be escorted into the justice building, then wait for her mother and her sister to see her, then surprisingly peeta’s father, then madge and finally it’s his turn.

gale hugs her tight; he wouldn’t let go if he didn’t need to speak his piece. yet there isn’t enough time for all he wishes to say. the peacekeepers ignore his request for more time and begin to haul him bodily out of the room. katniss clings to his hand.

“don’t let them starve!” she begs.

“I won’t! you know I won’t! katniss, remember I — ”

the door slams shut. ]

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