The Hunger Games (The Hunger Games, #1)

by Suzanne Collins

And even though the rules were set up by the Capitol, not the districts, certainly not Madge’s family, it’s hard not to resent those who don’t have to sign up for tesserae.

“It’s to the Capitol’s advantage to have us divided among ourselves,” he might say if there were no ears to hear but mine.

I protect Prim in every way I can, but I’m powerless against the reaping.

The odds had been entirely in her favor. But it hadn’t mattered.

To the everlasting credit of the people of District 12, not one person claps.

So instead of acknowledging applause, I stand there unmoving while they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage. Silence. Which says we do not agree. We do not condone. All of this is wrong.

Family devotion only goes so far for most people on reaping day. What I did was the radical thing.

Because if it had become known that my mother could no longer care for us, the district would have taken us away from her and placed us in the community home.

Only they didn’t die off. Instead, the jabberjays mated with female mockingbirds, creating a whole new species that could replicate both bird whistles and human melodies.

My mother taught Prim and me to eat properly, so yes, I can handle a fork and knife. But I hate Effie Trinket’s comment so much I make a point of eating the rest of my meal with my fingers.

The commentators are not sure what to say about the crowd’s refusal to applaud. The silent salute. One says that District 12 has always been a bit backward but that local customs can be charming.

Kind people have a way of working their way inside me and rooting there.

And I heard my father’s voice joking, “As long as you can find yourself, you’ll never starve.”

but I kept watching, waiting for her to disappear on us again. I didn’t trust her. And some small gnarled place inside me hated her for her weakness, for her neglect, for the months she had put us through. Prim forgave her, but I had taken a step back from my mother, put up a wall to protect myself from needing her, and nothing was ever the same between us again.

“I want the audience to recognize you when you’re in the arena,” says Cinna dreamily. “Katniss, the girl who was on fire.”

They want to know about you, Katniss.” “But I don’t want them to! They’re already taking my future! They can’t have the things that mattered to me in the past!” I say.

That the Careers have been better fed growing up is actually to their disadvantage, because they don’t know how to be hungry. Not the way Rue and I do.

It’s the Capitol I hate, for doing this to all of us.

Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else’s arms have made me feel this safe.

But then . . . what? What would my life be like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I’m not really sure who I am, what my identity is.

myself. That it’s no good loving me because I’m never going to get married anyway and he’d just end up hating me later instead of sooner. That if I do have feelings for him, it doesn’t matter because I’ll never be able to afford the kind of love that leads to a family, to children.