¨Maybe；〃 I say； because I can hardly tell my mother to carry on if Iˇve already given up myself。 Besides； it isnˇt in my nature to go down without a fight； even when things seem insurmountable。 ¨Then weˇd be rich as Haymitch。〃
¨I donˇt care if weˇre rich。 I just want you to e home。 You will try； wonˇt you？ Really； really try？〃 asks Prim。
¨Really； really try。 I swear it；〃 I say。 And I know； because of Prim； Iˇll have to。
And then the Peacekeeper is at the door； signaling our time is up； and weˇre all hugging one another so hard it hurts and all Iˇm saying is ¨I love you。 I love you both。〃 And theyˇre saying it back and then the Peacekeeper orders them out and the door closes。 I bury my head in one of the velvet pillows as if this can block the whole thing out。
Someone else enters the room； and when I look up； Iˇm surprised to see itˇs the baker； Peeta Mellarkˇs father。 I canˇt believe heˇs e to visit me。 After all； Iˇll be trying to kill his son soon。 But we do know each other a bit； and he knows Prim even better。 When she sells her goat cheeses at the Hob； she puts two of them aside for him and he gives her a generous amount of bread in return。 We always wait to trade with him when his witch of a wife isnˇt around because heˇs so much nicer。 I feel certain he would never have hit his son the way she did over the burned bread。 But why has he e to see me？
The baker sits awkwardly on the edge of one of the plush chairs。 Heˇs a big； broad…shouldered man with burn scars from years at the ovens。 He must have just said goodbye to his son。
He pulls a white paper package from his jacket pocket and holds it out to me。 I open it and find cookies。 These are a luxury we can never afford。
¨Thank you；〃 I say。 The bakerˇs not a very talkative man in the best of times； and today he has no words at all。 ¨I had some of your bread this morning。 My friend Gale gave you a squirrel for it。〃 He nods； as if remembering the squirrel。 ¨Not your best trade；〃 I say。 He shrugs as if it couldnˇt possibly matter。
Then I canˇt think of anything else； so we sit in silence until a Peacemaker summons him。 He rises and coughs to clear his throat。 ¨Iˇll keep an eye on the little girl。 Make sure sheˇs eating。〃
I feel some of the pressure in my chest lighten at his words。 People deal with me； but they are genuinely fond of Prim。 Maybe there will be enough fondness to keep her alive。
My next guest is also unexpected。 Madge walks straight to me。 She is not weepy or evasive； instead thereˇs an urgency about her tone that surprises me。 ¨They let you wear one thing from your district in the arena。 One thing to remind you of home。 Will you wear this？〃 She holds out the circular gold pin that was on her dress earlier。 I hadnˇt paid much attention to it before； but now I see itˇs a small bird in flight。
¨Your pin？〃 I say。 Wearing a token from my district is about the last thing on my mind。
¨Here； Iˇll put it on your dress； all right？〃 Madge doesnˇt wait for an answer； she just leans in and fixes the bird to my dress。 ¨Promise youˇll wear it into the arena； Katniss？〃 she asks。 ¨Promise？〃
¨Yes；〃 I say。 Cookies。 A pin。 Iˇm getting all kinds of gifts today。 Madge gives me one more。 A kiss on the cheek。 Then sheˇs gone and Iˇm left thinking that maybe Madge really has been my friend all along。
Finally； Gale is here and maybe there is nothing romantic between us； but when he opens his arms I donˇt hesitate to go into them。 His body is familiar to me the way it moves； the smell of wood smoke； even the sound of his heart beating I knoents on a hunt but this is the first time I really feel it； lean and hard…muscled against my own。
¨Listen；〃 he says。 ¨Getting a knife should be pretty easy； but youˇve got to get your hands on a bow。 Thatˇs your best chance。〃
¨They donˇt always have bows；〃 I say； thinking of the year there were only horrible spiked maces that the tributes had to bludgeon one another to death with。
¨Then make one；〃 says Gale。 ¨Even a weak bow is better than no bow at all。〃
I have tried copying my fatherˇs bows with poor results。 Itˇs not that easy。 Even he had to scrap his own work sometimes。
¨I donˇt even know if thereˇll be wood；〃 I say。 Another year； they tossed everybody into a landscape of nothing but boulders and sand and scruffy bushes。 I particularly hated that year。 Many contestants were bitten by venomous snakes or went insane from thirst。
¨Thereˇs almost always some wood；〃 Gale says。 ¨Since that year half of them died of cold。 Not much entertainment in that。〃
Itˇs true。 We spent one Hunger Games watching the players freeze to death at night。 You could hardly see them because they were just huddled in balls and had no wood for fires or torches or anything。 It was considered very anti…climactic in the Capitol； all those quiet； bloodless deaths。 Since then； thereˇs usually been wood to make fires。
¨Yes； thereˇs usually some；〃 I say。
¨Katniss； itˇs just hunting。 Youˇre the best hunter I know；〃 says Gale。
¨Itˇs not just hunting。 Theyˇre armed。 They think；〃 I say。
¨So do you。 And youˇve had more practice。 Real practice；〃 he says。 ¨You know how to kill。〃
¨Not people；〃 I say。
¨How different can it be； really？〃 says Gale grimly。
The awful thing is that if I can forget theyˇre people； it will be no different at all。
The Peacekeepers are back too soon and Gale asks for more time； but theyˇre taking him away and I start to panic。 ¨Donˇt let them starve！〃 I cry out； clinging to his hand。
¨I wonˇt！ You know I wonˇt！ Katniss； remember I 〃 he says； and they yank us apart and slam the door and Iˇll never know what it was he wanted me to remember。
Itˇs a short ride from the Justice Building to the train station。 Iˇve never been in a car before。 Rarely even ridden in wagons。 In the Seam； we travel on foot。
Iˇve been right not to cry。 The station is swarming with reporters with their insectlike cameras trained directly on my face。 But Iˇve had a lot of practice at wiping my face clean of emotions and I do this now。 I catch a glimpse of myself on the television screen on the wall thatˇs airing my arrival live and
feel gratified that I appear almost bored。
Peeta Mellark； on the other hand； has obviously been crying and interestingly enough does not seem to be trying to cover it up。 I immediately wonder if this will be his strategy in the Games。 To appear weak and frightened； to reassure the other tributes that he is no petition at all； and then e out fighting。 This worked very well for a girl； Johanna Mason； from District 7 a few years back。 She seemed like such a sniveling； cowardly fool that no one bothered about her until there were only a handful of contestants left。 It turned out she could kill viciously。 Pretty clever； the way she played it。 But this seems an odd strategy for Peeta Mellark because heˇs a bakerˇs son。 All those years of having enough to eat and hauling bread trays around have made him broad…shouldered and strong。 It will take an awful lot of weeping to convince anyone to overlook him。
We have to stand for a few minutes in the doorway of the train while the cameras gobble up our images； then weˇre allowed inside and the doors close mercifully behind us。 The train begins to move at once。
The speed initially takes my breath away。 Of course； Iˇve never been on a train； as travel between the districts is forbidden except for officially sanctioned duties。 For us； thatˇs mainly transporting coal。 But this is no ordinary coal train。 Itˇs one of the high…speed Capitol models that average 250 miles
per hour。 Our journey to the Capitol will take less than a day。
In school； they tell us the Capitol was built in a place once called the Rockies。 District 12 was in a region known is Appalachia。 Even hundreds of years ago； they mined coal here。 Which is why our miners have to dig so deep。
Somehow it all es back to coal at school。 Besides basic reading and math most of our instruction is coal…related。 Except for the weekly lecture on the history of Panem。 Itˇs mostly a lot of blather about what we owe the Capitol。 I know there must be more than theyˇre telling us； an actual account of what happened during the rebellion。 But I donˇt spend much time thinking about it。 Whatever the truth is； I donˇt see how it will help me get food on the table。
The tribute train is fancier than even the room in the Justice Building。 We are each given our own chambers that have a bedroom； a dressing area； and a private bathroom with hot and cold running water。 We donˇt have hot water at home； unless we boil it。
There are drawers filled with fine clothes； and Effie Trinket tells me to do anything I want； wear anything I want； everything is at my disposal。 Just be ready for supper in an hour。 I peel off my motherˇs blue dress and take a hot shower。 Iˇve never had a shower before。 Itˇs like being in a summer rain； only warmer。 I dress in a dark green shirt and pants。
At the last minute； I remember Madgeˇs little gold pin。 For the first time； I get a good look at it。 Itˇs as if someone fashioned a small golden bird and then attached a ring around it。 The bird is connected to the ring only by its wing tips。 I suddenly recognize it。 A mockingjay。
Theyˇre funny birds and something of a slap in the face to the Capitol。 During the rebellion； the Capitol bred a series of geically altered animals as weapons。 The mon term for them was muttations； or sometimes mutts for short。 One was a special bird called a jabberjay that had the ability to memorize and repeat whole human conversations。 They were homing birds； exclusively male； that were released into regions where the Capitolˇs enemies were known to be hiding。 After the birds gathered words； theyˇd fly back to centers to be recorded。 It took people awhile to realize what was going on in the districts； how private conversations were being transmitted。 Then； of course； the rebels fed the Capitol endless lies； and the joke was on it。 So the centers were shut down and the birds were abandoned to die off in the wild。
Only they didnˇt die off。 Instead； the jabberjays mated with female mockingbirds creating a whole new species that could replicate both bird whistles and human melodies。