When I woke up, the other half of the bed was cold.I reached out to feel Prim's remaining warmth under the covers, but all I could find was the rough canvas sheet, and she must have had another nightmare and crawled into her mother's bed.Well, that's right.Today is Harvest Day. I propped myself up on my arms, and the room was bright enough to see them.Little sister Prim lay on her side, cuddled in her mother's arms, their faces pressed together.Asleep, my mother looked younger, and her face was less haggard, though still tired.Prim's face was as fresh as raindrops and as pretty as a primrose, just like her name.Mom was pretty when she was young, or at least that's what they told me.Sitting on Prim's lap and guarding her was the ugliest cat in the world, with a big snub nose, one ear half missing, and eyes the color of rotten pumpkins.Prim called it Buttercup, and she insisted that its muddy yellow fur was a match for the pretty flower.This cat hates me, or at least doesn't believe me.When Prim first brought him home, I wanted to drown him in the bucket, years ago, but I think he still remembers.At that time, the cat was skinny and skinny, with a bulging stomach full of parasites and fleas all over its body.Another mouth to eat was the last thing I wanted.But Prim begged me to keep it, even burst into tears.I had no choice but to agree.The result was not bad, and my mother got rid of all the bugs for it.This cat is a natural mouse catcher, and will not let go of any passing mice.Sometimes I clean up the prey and give it some animal offal, so it stops whining at me.

I gut him and he doesn't whine at me, and that's about it for the closest we've ever been. I stretched my legs, sat up from the bed, and slid my feet into the leather boots. The soft leather boots fit the shape of my feet.I put on my trousers and shirt, tucked my long black braids into my hat, and grabbed the hay sack.On the table is a piece of feta cheese rolled in a basil leaf and covered with a wooden bowl to keep mice and cats from stealing it.This is a gift Prim gave me during the harvest season.I carefully put the cheese in my pocket and slipped out quietly. In the 12th district, the area where we live is commonly known as the "seam zone". At this time, there are usually some scattered coal miners who go to pick up the morning shift.They are hunched over, their knees are swollen from exhaustion, and their faces and nails are covered with coal stains from not washing for a long time.But today the cinder road is deserted.The shutters on the gray low houses were all closed.The Harvest ceremony doesn't start until two o'clock in the afternoon, and maybe everyone's still asleep.My family's house is at the very end of the "sandwich".I only had to pass a few gates to get to the grassy place called "the pasture."A tall fence ran between the "pasture" and the woodland, enclosing the whole of District 12, topped with barbed wire.Generally speaking, the barbed wire fence is electrified 24 hours a day to prevent the beasts of the woods from threatening our neighborhood - there are packs of wild wolves, solitary and bold bears; but fortunately, there are only one or two at night. hours of power, so it is safe to touch it at this time.Even so, I'll stop for a while and listen carefully to see if the grid is live.At this time, the power grid is as silent as a stubborn stone.A clump of bushes just obscured people's view, and I squeezed my way through a two-foot gap.This seam has been open for years, and there are a few breaches elsewhere in the fence, but this one is so close to home that I almost always go into the woods from here.

As soon as I was in the woods, I found the bow and arrows from an empty stake.The fence, electrified or not, did keep predators out of District 12.In the woods, they roam freely.What is disturbing is that there are poisonous snakes and ferocious animals in the forest, and there are no roads in the forest.But you can always find something to eat in the woods if you know how to do it.My dad was a man of his own, and he had taught me how to forage before, but he was torn to pieces in a mine explosion, his body was scattered, and by the time he was buried, not much was left of him.I was only eleven years old then.Five years later, I still wake up every now and then, yelling at him to run away.

Trekking into the woods is illegal, and poaching carries severe penalties, but many people are willing to take the risk as long as they have a gun, but most people are afraid to enter the woods with only a knife.My unusual bow was made by my father with several men, and I carefully hid it in the woods with a waterproof cover over it.At that time, my father wanted to sell the bow and arrow, and he would definitely earn a fortune, but if the officials found out, he would be executed in public for the crime of inciting riots.Most people who knew about it turned a blind eye, because they were hungry like us and wanted fresh meat.In fact, they are our best buyers.But the possession of weapons in the "sandwich zone" is absolutely prohibited.

This autumn, a few brave people sneaked into the woods to pick apples.Their position in the woods is very close to the 12th district, and the "pasture" is within sight. Once there is a situation, they will run back quickly. "Run back to District 12, this place where people can starve to death safely." I muttered, and then I quickly looked behind me.Even if it's a deserted place, be wary of someone overhearing what you're saying. When I was young, words such as the 12th district, the high officials who ruled the country of Panem, and the distant city called the Capitol came out of my mouth a few times, my mother Just scared to death.Then I finally realized that saying that would only get us into trouble.So I learned to keep my mouth shut and act like I don't care about everything. No one knows what I think.I study my homework quietly at school, speak politely in public, and never speak loudly.He hardly ever mentioned anything about making money in Hob's black market.Even at home, where I'm not very happy, I don't touch on delicate topics like harvest season, food shortages, or the Hunger Games.What will we do if Prim talks like me?

There was one person waiting for me in the woods, and that was Gale, and I was only at ease with him.As I scrambled toward our secret rendezvous, a ledge of rock, I quickened my pace, feeling relaxed and refreshed.Our secret rendezvous point overlooks the canyon, hidden from view by a thick undergrowth.As soon as I saw his waiting figure, a knowing smile would appear on my face.Gail says I only laugh when I'm in the woods. "Hey, Catnip," Gail said. My real name is Katniss, and when I told him my name earlier, the voice was as small as a buzzing fly, so he thought I was called Catnip ("My" English name is Katniss, which is a homonym for Catnip in English, so named.——Translator’s Note).Then a crazy bobcat followed me around in the woods begging for handouts, so that became my official nickname.In the end I had to kill the lynx, for it kept scaring away prey; I regretted it a little, because the lynx was a good companion; but I got a good price for its skin, too.

"Look what I hit!" I couldn't help laughing as Gail thrust an arrow into a piece of bread.It was a real piece of leavened bread, not the hard flat bread we made from our rations.I pointed the small hole inserted in the bread to my nose, and inhaled its fragrance heartily, and my mouth immediately drool.Good bread like this is only available on special occasions. "Well, it's still hot," I said.He must have gone to the bakery early in the morning to exchange. "What to change?" "Just a squirrel, the old baker's being friendly today," said Gale, "and he wished me luck."

"Yeah, we all feel closer to each other these days, don't we?" I said without rolling my eyes. "Prim saved us a piece of cheese," I said, taking out the cheese. A happy smile immediately spread across his face at my treat. "Thank you, Prim, we're going to have a real meal." He suddenly adopted Effie Trincy and adopted a Capitol accent.Effie Trincy is a very cheerful woman, who comes to read the list every year at the Harvest Festival ceremony. "I almost forgot! Happy Hunger Games!" He picked a few blackberries from the surrounding bushes. "I wish you forever—" He tossed a blackberry to me, and the blackberry drew an arc in the air. I caught it, and then bit the thin skin with my teeth, a sour and sweet taste Juice spread in my mouth. "—good luck forever!" I continued excitedly.For the Hunger Games, we had to joke a bit, because The Hunger Games can be scary.Plus, the Capitol accent is so contrived that anything you say with that accent is hilarious.

Gail pulled out a knife and sliced ​​a slice of bread while I watched.He might be my brother, straight dark hair, olive skin, we even have the same gray eyes.But there is no blood relationship between us, at least not very close blood relationship.Most people who work in the mines are alike in these ways. Mom and sister Prim have light hair and blue eyes that make them seem out of place in their surroundings.Indeed.My mother's parents belonged to the circle of merchants who owned a drugstore in the better part of the 12th arrondissement, supplying officials, vigilantes, and the occasional buyer in the Seam.Since most people cannot pay to see a doctor, pharmacists take their place.My father used to collect some herbs when hunting, sold them in pharmacies, and then made them into potions, that's how he met my mother.Mom must love Dad so much that she was willing to leave home and come to the "crack" with him.In my memory, she was always so haughty and indifferent, leaving her hands alone in the affairs of the family, seeing her child starving and skinny, I forgave her for my father's sake.But to be honest, I'm not the kind of person who likes to forgive others.

Gail carefully spreads feta cheese on a slice of bread, then places a basil leaf on top, while I push back the bushes from the blackberries.We sat back on the sheltered rock, from which we could see the canyon clearly without being seen.In summer, the canyon is full of vitality, fresh green plants are everywhere, fish are shining in the water, the blue sky is clear and cloudless, and there is a breeze blowing through it from time to time.Our food was amazing, the cheese seeped into the warm bread, the strawberries burst in our mouths, it would have been perfect if it were a true holiday.It would be nice if I could wander the mountains with Gail all day, looking for our supper...But, at two o'clock in the afternoon, we have to stand in the square and wait for the roll call.

"Honestly, we can do it," Gail said calmly. "What?" I asked. "Get out of District 12. Run away. Live in the woods, just you and me, we can do it." I didn't know how to answer for a moment, the idea was so absurd. "If only we didn't have so many kids," he added quickly. Of course, we don't actually have that many "kids," but that's the same.Gail has two brothers and a sister, I have Prim, and maybe Mom, how are they going to get along without us?Who will find food for them to fill their stomachs.Now, even though the two of us hunted for food all day, we had to change into lard, shoelaces, or woolen clothes in the dark at night; and some nights, we fell asleep when our stomachs were growling with hunger. "I never want kids," I said. "If I didn't live here, I'd take it," Gail said. "But you live here now," I said, annoyed. "Forget it, don't talk about it." He said hastily. What we both said was outrageous.Leaving District 12?How could I leave Prim, the only person I love in this world.Gail's heart is also with his family.It is impossible for us to leave.But why did Brother Gail still say that?But...but...even if we did leave District 12, where did all this baby talk come from?There is no romance between me and Gail.I was a scrawny twelve-year-old when we first met, and although he was only two years older than me, he looked like a grown-up.We used to fight openly and secretly when doing business, and after a long time, we became friends who helped each other.Besides, if Gail wants to have children, he can find a wife.He was handsome, strong, and well-versed in the mines.Every time he passed the school the girls whispered about him and could tell they liked him too.It really makes me jealous, not for the reasons one might imagine, but because good hunters are so hard to find. "What do you want to do now?" I asked.We can hunt, fish or gather. "Let's fish in the lake. Let's get something nice tonight," he said. Just tonight, after the Harvest ceremony, everyone will be celebrating that they can finally breathe a sigh of relief that their child has been spared for another year.But at least two families will remain shuttered as they figure out how to survive the harrowing weeks that will ensue. We're doing pretty well.Those ferocious carnivores don't bother to pay us any attention, because for them, delicious prey is at their fingertips.Near noon, we caught a dozen fish, picked a bag of wild greens, and best of all, a quart of strawberries.A few years ago I found a trail, and Gail set up traps with nets nearby, so the wild animals wouldn't bother us. On the way home, we passed some iron frames, where we played on the swings.Once a warehouse for coal storage, it is now a black market.Later, people used a better method to transport coal directly from the mine to the station, and only the iron frame remained in this place.During the harvest season, most of the business has ended at this time, but the black market business is still quite lively.We easily traded six fish for good bread, and two for salt.Gracie Se, a skinny old woman, often sells hot soup from large jugs.She exchanged half of the wild vegetables from us, and we exchanged two large pieces of wax from her.It's slightly cheaper to do business with other people than with her, but she's the only one who always buys dingo meat from us.We don't kill dingoes on purpose, but we only kill one or two occasionally when we are attacked by dingoes, which makes sense, anyway, meat is meat. "Once the dog meat comes out of the pot, I call it beef." Gracie Sai blinked her eyes as she spoke. No one in the "crack zone" can move their nose away when they smell the delicious dog meat.But those security police are more picky. After the black-market deal, we went to the back door of the mayor's house, intending to sell the remaining half of the strawberries, which we all knew he loved and could afford.March, the mayor's daughter, opened the door for us.She is in the same grade as me at school.Since she's the mayor's daughter, people think she must be a snob, but that's okay, she's just discreet and doesn't socialize much, much like me.Since neither of us had many friends, we were able to spend a lot of time together at school, eating together, sitting next to each other at assemblies, and playing sports as partners.We also rarely spoke to each other, which suited our personalities. Today she has swapped out her drab school uniform for an expensive white dress, and her blond hair is tied up with a pink ribbon.Well, this is a beautiful dress to wear to a Harvest Festival ceremony. "It's a nice dress," Gail said. March glanced at him at once to see if he was really complimenting her or mocking her.This skirt is indeed beautiful, but she would definitely not wear it normally.She had closed her lips tightly just now, but now she smiled. "If I'm going to the Capitol, I'll have to look pretty, don't I?" Now it's Gail's turn to look confused. Is what she said true?Or deliberately fool him?I guess it's the second possibility. "You're not going to the Capitol," Gail said coldly. As he spoke, his eyes fell on a small round pin on March's skirt. It was real gold, handmade, and very delicate. This pin was enough to feed the family for several months. "How many times have you registered in the harvest record? Five times? I registered six times when I was twelve." "It wasn't her fault," I said. "Yes, no one's right, it's just the way it is," Gail said. March put a smile on his face.She put the strawberry money in my hand, "Good luck, Katniss". "You too." With that, the door was closed. We walked back to the Gap in silence.I don't like Gale's sarcasm about March, but of course he's right.The harvest system is unfair and the poor always get the least.According to regulations, anyone who reaches the age of twelve has the right to harvest.In that year, the name was registered once, and when the age of thirteen was reached, it was registered twice, and so on, until the age of eighteen, the last year of seven consecutive years of registration, the twelve districts of the entire Panem Kingdom so it is. But the problem is that for poor people like us who are starving, their names are allowed to be registered multiple times in exchange for food stamps. The food equivalent of one food stamp is equivalent to the grain and oil allotment in poor harvest years, and every family can do the same.So at the age of twelve, I had to register my name four times, the first time, it was mandatory, and the other three times, I got three food stamps for me, Prim and Mom.In fact, we have to do this every year, and registration is cumulative.So now at sixteen, my name has been registered twenty times.And Gail, at the age of eighteen, has supported a family of five by himself for seven years, and his name has been registered forty-two times.So it's not hard to see why someone like March who never has to risk getting food stamps would piss him off.Compared with other people who live in the "sandwich", her name has a low chance of being registered.Not impossible, just low.Even though the rules were Cappy specific, not District 12, and certainly not the Marches, it was hard not to hold grudges against people who didn't have to register for food stamps. Gail knew in his heart that he shouldn't be angry with March.Sometimes in the woods he would complain loudly that food stamps were a tool for causing misery to the people of the twelfth arrondissement.Doing so sows the animosity between the poor and the rich and powerful in the "Sandwich," making it impossible for them ever to trust each other. "Break us apart so the Capitol can reap the benefits," he'd tell me when he was watching nobody.Oh, if only it wasn't harvest time, and March, who wears a gold brooch and doesn't need food stamps, didn't say those things, which I'm sure she said unintentionally! Walking down the road, I glanced at Gale, who was still sullen.Although I never told him, it seemed to me that his anger meant nothing.It's not that I think differently from him, I think the same way.But what's the use of shouting in the woods about the Capitol?This can't change anything, can't seek fairness, and can't fill the stomach.In fact, it scares away prey around; but I still let him roar, which is better in the woods than in District 12. Gail and I split the remaining two fish, some good bread, some wild greens, a quart of strawberries, some salt, paraffin, and a little money. "See you in the square," I said. "Dress nicely," he said flatly. When I got home, I found my mother and sister were ready to go.Mom was wearing a beautiful dress she had worn as a pharmacist's daughter, and Prim was wearing what I wore during my first harvest season—a small skirt and a ruched blouse.She was a little too big, but Mom had pinned her up.Even so, the back of her top was bulging. A tub of hot water awaits me.I scrubbed dirt and sweat from the woods and even washed my hair.To my surprise, my mother took out her favorite dress for me to wear, a light blue dress that matched the shoes very well. "You really want me to wear this?" I asked, trying to refuse her offer.For a while, I was so angry that I didn't want her to do anything for me.But she put me in this dress today, which is really special, because my mother cherishes the clothes from the past. "Of course, come on, put your hair up too," she said.I let her towel dry my hair and put it up.When I saw myself in the broken mirror against the wall, I couldn't recognize it. "It's not like me," I said, hugging Mom because I knew the next few hours would be scary for her.Her first Harvest Ceremony, which was almost harmless, she only participated in once, and I didn't let her get food stamps.But she was very worried about me, afraid that the most unpredictable thing would happen. I've been doing everything in my power to protect Prim, but there's not much I can do for her when it comes to the Harvest ceremony.When I think of her suffering, my heart is very painful, and I can't help showing it on my face.I noticed her top was coming out of her skirt again and I forced myself to stay calm. "Put your tail back, duckling," I said, smoothing out the top for her and tucking it back. Prim giggled and softly gave me the duck "quack". "Crap your head," I said with a chuckle, only Prim could make me laugh. "Come on, let's eat." I said, kissing her lightly on the head. Fish and wild vegetables are stewed in the pot, and this is our dinner.We decided to save the strawberries and toast for dinner.We said to ourselves, let's make dinner special.We drank goat's milk from Prim's goat called "Madame" and ate rough bread baked with food-stamp grain. At one o'clock we walked towards the square.As long as they are not dying, everyone must go.At night, officials will check from house to house, and if they do not show up without a reason, they will be thrown into prison. Too bad the Harvest ceremony was going to be held in the square, really, one of the few pleasant places in the 12th.It is surrounded by shops, and if it is a public market day, especially if the weather is good, the square is full of festive atmosphere.But today, even with the flags flying from the rooftops, there was a grim air in the air.The photographer perched on the roof like a vulture, adding to the feeling. People lined up and walked silently forward, signing their names.Harvest rituals are also a good time for the Capitol to count their heads.Teenagers between the ages of twelve and eighteen were driven to an area surrounded by ropes. Outside were middle-aged and elderly people. The oldest stood at the front, and the younger ones, like Prim, stood at the back.Families stand on the periphery of the ropes area, hands held tightly together.There are also some people who have nothing to worry about at this time of life and death, or simply don't care, just mix in the crowd, betting to see which two children will be selected.Some bet on the age of the chosen ones, others on whether they came from the "sandwich" or businessmen, and others on who would break down or cry first.Most people don't want to be taken in by scammers and are very, very careful; and these same people could be whistleblowers as well.Who hasn't done anything illegal?I could be executed every day for hunting.But the lust for prey of those in charge protected me.Each person is different, in the 12th district, there are all kinds of people. Anyway, between starvation and a shot in the head, Gail and I figured we'd choose the shot, since it's so much quicker. The square was very crowded, and more and more people came, it was suffocating.This square is huge, but not big enough to hold about 8,000 people in District 12.Latecomers were directed to stand on the side of the street where they could watch live on national television.I stood among a group of sixteen-year-olds from the Seam.We greeted each other with a small nod, before focusing our attention on the improvised stage in front of the courthouse.There are three chairs on the stage, a podium, and two large glass balls, which are used for the drawing of lots for male and female players.I stared at the slips of paper in the glass balls for the girls' lottery. There were twenty of them with "Katniss Everdeen" written neatly on them.March's father, Mayor Andersey, a tall, balding man, sat on one chair; on the chair.Her hair was pink, she was wearing a baby green suit, and she was smiling with white teeth, and her smile was creepy.They murmured something in low tones, then looked uneasily at the empty chair. The town clock struck twice, and the mayor stood up, walked to the podium, and began to read the opening speech.Every year.He told the history of the country of Panem, a place built on ruins that was originally called North America.He counted the various disasters suffered by this country, including drought, storms, fires, sea water that swallowed up a large area of ​​land, and cruel wars that devastated people, until he finally established the Panam Kingdom that brought peace and prosperity to the people—— A kingdom of thirteen districts with the Capitol as its sacred center.But a dark time came, and riots in various districts opposed the rule of the Capitol.As a result, twelve districts were defeated, and the thirteenth district was destroyed.New laws were enacted in the treasonous treaty to keep the peace and to remind people every year that this dark history should never repeat itself.According to the new law, the "Hunger Games" was created. The rules of the game are very simple: as punishment for rioters, each of the twelve districts selects a boy and girl named "tribute" to participate in the game.The twenty-four contestants are locked in a huge outdoor arena, which has a variety of terrain and climate conditions, from hot deserts to cold wastelands.Over the course of several weeks, all "tributes" must fight to the death, with the last survivor being the ultimate victor. Take children away from their loved ones, force them to kill each other, and make us watch.This is how the Capitol reminds us of the "gift" they bestow.And the children's chances of surviving in the chaotic fight are so slim. No matter how eloquently they speak, there is only one meaning, "Look, we can take your children and make them sacrifice with their own lives, and there is nothing you can do. If you dare to raise a finger, we will It will destroy you, not a single one left, just like we wiped out District 13."To further torture and humiliate us, the Capitol also asked us to treat the event as a festival, as a sport pitting the districts against each other.The last survivor can go home to live out the rest of his life, and his or her district is rewarded with various rewards, mostly food.Throughout the year, the Capitol would show off the various gifts awarded to the winning districts, including food, oil, and even delicacies such as sugar; while the remaining districts had to struggle with hunger. "This is a time for repentance and a time for thanksgiving," the mayor read in a monotonous, long voice. He then read out the list of previous District 12 winners.We've only had two winners in the last seventy-four years, and only one of them is still alive, and that's Haymitch Abernathur, a middle-aged man with a big belly.At this moment he walked up to the table, complained indistinctly, and then sank down on the third chair.He was very drunk.The crowd gave a symbolic applause, but he was still dazed, and went up to give Effie Trinket a strong hug, but she wanted to push back but was powerless to refuse.The mayor looked unhappy.The scene was being broadcast live, and District 12 would also become the laughing stock of the entire Panem country, and he knew this very well.He quickly switches to introducing Effie Trinket to quickly draw attention back to the Harvest celebrations.Effie Trinket, still as breezy as ever, walked quickly to the podium to signal the start of the festivities, "Happy Hunger Games and good luck!" After the hug, her curly hair was slightly tilted to one side.She said some more things like it's an honor to be here, but everyone knew she was upset about it because the winner of the district happened to be a drunk and made her go public in front of the whole country. ugly. In the crowd, I saw Gale looking back at me with a secretive smile.It was kind of funny when he laughed like that during the Harvest ceremony.But then it occurred to me that Gail and his forty-two notes were also in the big glass ball, and that the odds weren't very good for him compared to the other kids.Maybe he thought of me the same way, his face suddenly darkened, and he turned his head away. "But there are thousands of other notes," I really wanted to tell him. It's time for the draw.Effie Trinket said, as usual, "Ladies first!" and walked over to the glass ball with the girl's name on it.She reached in, all the way to the bottom of the ball, and pulled out a note from inside.The crowd held their breath, and at this moment even a needle dropped on the ground could be heard.My heart is also churning, desperately hoping that it will never be me, not me, not me. Effie Trinket walked back to the podium, smoothed the note, and read it in a clear voice. The name she pronounced was not mine, It was — Prim Everdeen.