General Vocab - Chapter 1 Hunger Games

My fingers stretch out, seeking Prims warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress.

Our part of District 12, nicknamed the Seam, is usually crawling with coal miners heading out to the morning shift at this hour.

In theory, its supposed to be electrified twenty-four hours a day as a deterrent to the predators that live in the woods packs of wild dogs, lone cougars, bears that used to threaten our streets.

As we walk, I glance over at Gales face, still smoldering underneath his stony expression.

In theory, its supposed to be electrified twenty-four hours a day as a deterrent to the predators that live in the woods packs of wild dogs, lone cougars, bears that used to threaten our streets.

It holds three chairs, a podium, and two large glass balls, one for the boys and one for the girls.

The foods wonderful, with the cheese seeping into the warm bread and the berries bursting in our mouths.

When I was younger, I scared my mother to death, the things I would blurt out about District 12, about the people who rule our country, Panem, from the far-off city called the Capitol.

They ran an apothecary shop in the nicer part of District 12.

From this place, we are invisible but have a clear view of the valley, which is teeming with summer life, greens to gather, roots to dig, fish iridescent in the sunlight.

I finish with equal verve.

Prim giggles and gives me a small Quack.

He lists the disasters, the droughts, the storms, the fires, the encroaching seas that swallowed up so much of the land, the brutal war for what little sustenance remained.

Now its Gales turn to be confused.

My little sister, Prim, curled up on her side, cocooned in my mothers body, their cheeks pressed together.

Family members line up around the perimeter, holding tightly to one anothers hands.

On other days, deep in the woods, Ive listened to him rant about how the tesserae are just another tool to cause misery in our district.

To make it humiliating as well as torturous, the Capitol requires us to treat the Hunger Games as a festivity, a sporting event pitting every district against the others.

From this place, we are invisible but have a clear view of the valley, which is teeming with summer life, greens to gather, roots to dig, fish iridescent in the sunlight.

Separating the Meadow from the woods, in fact enclosing all of District 12, is a high chain-link fence topped with barbed-wire loops.

I take it in my hands, pull out the arrow, and hold the puncture in the crust to my nose, inhaling the fragrance that makes my mouth flood with saliva.

Inside the woods they roam freely, and there are added concerns like venomous snakes, rabid animals, and no real paths to follow.

In theory, its supposed to be electrified twenty-four hours a day as a deterrent to the predators that live in the woods packs of wild dogs, lone cougars, bears that used to threaten our streets.

My father could have made good money selling them, but if the officials found out he would have been publicly executed for inciting a rebellion.

Twelve were defeated, the thirteenth obliterated.

Prim giggles and gives me a small Quack.

Where you can starve to death in safety, I mutter.

And may the odds He tosses a berry in a high arc toward me.

We all exchange terse nods then focus our attention on the temporary stage that is set up before the Justice Building.

Concealed by a clump of bushes, I flatten out on my belly and slide under a two-foot stretch thats been loose for years.

Attendance is mandatory unless you are on deaths door.

As soon as Im in the trees, I retrieve a bow and sheath of arrows from a hollow log.

In punishment for the uprising, each of the twelve districts must provide one girl and one boy, called tributes, to participate.

Each tessera is worth a meager years supply of grain and oil for one person.

I can feel the muscles in my face relaxing, my pace quickening as I climb the hills to our place, a rock ledge overlooking a valley.

Its real bakery bread, not the flat, dense loaves we make from our grain rations.

I only have to pass a few gates to reach the scruffy field called the Meadow.

I pull on trousers, a shirt, tuck my long dark braid up into a cap, and grab my forage bag.

Suddenly he falls into a Capitol accent as he mimics Effie Trinket, the maniacally upbeat woman who arrives once a year to read out the names at the leaping.

Shutters on the squat gray houses are closed.

And the entries are cumulative.

Today her drab school outfit has been replaced by an expensive white dress, and her blonde hair is done up with a pink ribbon.

Madge shoots him a look, trying to see if its a genuine compliment or if hes just being ironic.

Its real bakery bread, not the flat, dense loaves we make from our grain rations.

He lists the disasters, the droughts, the storms, the fires, the encroaching seas that swallowed up so much of the land, the brutal war for what little sustenance remained.

Supple leather that has molded to my feet.

By late morning, we have a dozen fish, a bag of greens and, best of all, a gallon of strawberries.

We cant leave, so why bother talking about it?

I dont know how to respond.

The idea is so preposterous.

But at least two families will pull their shutters, lock their doors, and try to figure out how they will survive the painful weeks to come.

His eyes land on a small, circular pin that adorns her dress.

On the table, under a wooden bowl to protect it from hungry rats and cats alike, sits a perfect little goat cheese wrapped in basil leaves.

My real name is Katniss, but when I first told him, I had barely whispered it.

From this place, we are invisible but have a clear view of the valley, which is teeming with summer life, greens to gather, roots to dig, fish iridescent in the sunlight.

Our part of District 12, nicknamed the Seam, is usually crawling with coal miners heading out to the morning shift at this hour.

Its to the Capitols advantage to have us divided among ourselves, he might say if there were no ears to hear but mine.

He lists the disasters, the droughts, the storms, the fires, the encroaching seas that swallowed up so much of the land, the brutal war for what little sustenance remained.

Our part of District 12, nicknamed the Seam, is usually crawling with coal miners heading out to the morning shift at this hour.

How little chance we would stand of surviving another rebellion.

Besides, if he wants kids, Gale wont have any trouble finding a wife.

Five entries?

Shes the only one who can consistently be counted on to buy wild dog.

In punishment for the uprising, each of the twelve districts must provide one girl and one boy, called tributes, to participate.

The squares surrounded by shops, and on public market days, especially if theres good weather, it has a holiday feel to it.

Then he reads the list of past District 12 victors.

When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold.

My fingers stretch out, seeking Prims warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress.

Since almost no one can afford doctors, apothecaries are our healers.

The predators ignore us on a day when easier, tastier prey abounds.

He plucks a few blackberries from the bushes around us.

Latecomers are directed to the adjacent streets, where they can watch the event on screens as its televised live by the state.

Prim named him Buttercup, insisting that his muddy yellow coat matched the bright flower.

Im trying to get past rejecting offers of help from her.

After the reaping, everyone is supposed to celebrate.

Suddenly he falls into a Capitol accent as he mimics Effie Trinket, the maniacally upbeat woman who arrives once a year to read out the names at the leaping.

My father could have made good money selling them, but if the officials found out he would have been publicly executed for inciting a rebellion.

And Gale is devoted to his family.

Most of the families who work the mines resemble one another this way.

Think the old man was feeling sentimental this morning, says Gale.

But there are others, too, who have no one they love at stake, or who no longer care, who slip among the crowd, taking bets on the two kids whose names will be drawn.

On the way home, we swing by the Hob, the black market that operates in an abandoned warehouse that once held coal.

Even at home, where I am less pleasant, I avoid discussing tricky topics.

But today, despite the bright banners hanging on the buildings, theres an air of grimness.

The Treaty of Treason gave us the new laws to guarantee peace and, as our yearly reminder that the Dark Days must never be repeated, it gave us the Hunger Games.

I can feel the muscles in my face relaxing, my pace quickening as I climb the hills to our place, a rock ledge overlooking a valley.

The last tribute alive receives a life of ease back home, and their district will be showered with prizes, largely consisting of food.

A way to plant hatred between the starving workers of the Seam and those who can generally count on supper and thereby ensure we will never trust one another.

All year, the Capitol will show the winning district gifts of grain and oil and even delicacies like sugar while the rest of us battle starvation.

Two of the three chairs fill with Madges father, Mayor Undersee, whos a tall, balding man, and Effie Trinket, District 12s escort, fresh from the Capitol with her scary white grin, pinkish hair, and spring green suit.

I found the patch a few years ago, but Gale had the idea to string mesh nets around it to keep out the animals.

I stare at the paper slips in the girls ball.

Inside the woods they roam freely, and there are added concerns like venomous snakes, rabid animals, and no real paths to follow.

Even though trespassing in the woods is illegal and poaching carries the severest of penalties, more people would risk it if they had weapons.

Today her drab school outfit has been replaced by an expensive white dress, and her blonde hair is done up with a pink ribbon.

Discuss little more than trades in the Hob, which is the black market where I make most of my money.

When they came up with a more efficient system that transported the coal directly from the mines to the trains, the Hob gradually took over the space.

Taking the kids from our districts, forcing them to kill one another while we watch this is the Capitols way of reminding us how totally we are at their mercy.

Twelve- through eighteen-year-olds are herded into roped areas marked off by ages, the oldest in the front, the young ones, like Prim, toward the back.

In the fall, a few brave souls sneak into the woods to harvest apples.

Its real bakery bread, not the flat, dense loaves we make from our grain rations.

The crowd responds with its token applause, but hes confused and tries to give Effie Trinket a big hug, which she barely manages to fend off.

We have to joke about it because the alternative is to be scared out of your wits.

Make only polite small talk in the public market.

The anguish I always feel when shes in pain wells up in my chest and threatens to register on my (ace.

Suddenly he falls into a Capitol accent as he mimics Effie Trinket, the maniacally upbeat woman who arrives once a year to read out the names at the leaping.

My father got to know my mother because on his hunts he would sometimes collect medicinal herbs and sell them to her shop to be brewed into remedies.

On the way home, we swing by the Hob, the black market that operates in an abandoned warehouse that once held coal.

Separating the Meadow from the woods, in fact enclosing all of District 12, is a high chain-link fence topped with barbed-wire loops.

Prim named him Buttercup, insisting that his muddy yellow coat matched the bright flower.

As reapings go, this one at least has a slight entertainment factor.

When they came up with a more efficient system that transported the coal directly from the mines to the trains, the Hob gradually took over the space.

Her pink hair must be a wig because her curls have shifted slightly off-center since her encounter with Haymitch.

I can hardly recognize myself in the cracked mirror that leans against the wall.

We all exchange terse nods then focus our attention on the temporary stage that is set up before the Justice Building.

From this place, we are invisible but have a clear view of the valley, which is teeming with summer life, greens to gather, roots to dig, fish iridescent in the sunlight.

Men and women with hunched shoulders, swollen knuckles, many who have long since stopped trying to scrub the coal dust out of their broken nails, the lines of their sunken faces.

The anguish I always feel when shes in pain wells up in my chest and threatens to register on my (ace.

The predators ignore us on a day when easier, tastier prey abounds.

Concealed by a clump of bushes, I flatten out on my belly and slide under a two-foot stretch thats been loose for years.

Besides, the Capitol accent is so affected, almost anything sounds funny in it.

Prims face is as fresh as a raindrop, as lovely as the primrose for which she was named.

So I learned to hold my tongue and to turn my features into an indifferent mask so that no one could ever read my thoughts.

Even though trespassing in the woods is illegal and poaching carries the severest of penalties, more people would risk it if they had weapons.

Latecomers are directed to the adjacent streets, where they can watch the event on screens as its televised live by the state.

He lists the disasters, the droughts, the storms, the fires, the encroaching seas that swallowed up so much of the land, the brutal war for what little sustenance remained.

But there are others, too, who have no one they love at stake, or who no longer care, who slip among the crowd, taking bets on the two kids whose names will be drawn.

Greasy Sae, the bony old woman who sells bowls of hot soup from a large kettle, takes half the greens off our hands in exchange for a couple of chunks of paraffin.

We all exchange terse nods then focus our attention on the temporary stage that is set up before the Justice Building.

Then I glance quickly over my shoulder.

A way to plant hatred between the starving workers of the Seam and those who can generally count on supper and thereby ensure we will never trust one another.

The result was Panem, a shining Capitol ringed by thirteen districts, which brought peace and prosperity to its citizens.

Thats true for every citizen in all twelve districts in the entire country of Panem.

I can hardly recognize myself in the cracked mirror that leans against the wall.

Madge shoots him a look, trying to see if its a genuine compliment or if hes just being ironic.

Hes good-looking, hes strong enough to handle the work in the mines, and he can hunt.

I take it in my hands, pull out the arrow, and hold the puncture in the crust to my nose, inhaling the fragrance that makes my mouth flood with saliva.

I can feel the muscles in my face relaxing, my pace quickening as I climb the hills to our place, a rock ledge overlooking a valley.

The mayor looks distressed.

So I learned to hold my tongue and to turn my features into an indifferent mask so that no one could ever read my thoughts.

Eventually I understood this would only lead us to more trouble.

As soon as Im in the trees, I retrieve a bow and sheath of arrows from a hollow log.

The reaping is a good opportunity for the Capitol to keep tabs on the population as well.

We settle back in a nook in the rocks.

But most are not bold enough to venture out with just a knife.

On other days, deep in the woods, Ive listened to him rant about how the tesserae are just another tool to cause misery in our district.

I almost regretted it because he wasnt bad company.

If you lift a finger, we will destroy every last one of you.

Tuck your tail in, little duck, I say, smoothing the blouse back in place.

He must have been at the bakery at the crack of dawn to trade for it.

If a girl with a gold pin and no tesserae had not made what Im sure she thought was a harmless comment.

But most are not bold enough to venture out with just a knife.

Besides, the Capitol accent is so affected, almost anything sounds funny in it.

Her clothes from her past are very precious to her.

The twenty-four tributes will be imprisoned in a vast outdoor arena that could hold anything from a burning desert to a frozen wasteland.

To make it humiliating as well as torturous, the Capitol requires us to treat the Hunger Games as a festivity, a sporting event pitting every district against the others.

Look how we take your children and sacrifice them and theres nothing you can do.

The last tribute alive receives a life of ease back home, and their district will be showered with prizes, largely consisting of food.

Even though trespassing in the woods is illegal and poaching carries the severest of penalties, more people would risk it if they had weapons.

And Gale is devoted to his family.

I catch it in my mouth and break the delicate skin with my teeth.

The squares surrounded by shops, and on public market days, especially if theres good weather, it has a holiday feel to it.

Eating lunch, sitting next to each other at assemblies, partnering for sports activities.

In punishment for the uprising, each of the twelve districts must provide one girl and one boy, called tributes, to participate.

The camera crews, perched like buzzards on rooftops, only add to the effect.

Separating the Meadow from the woods, in fact enclosing all of District 12, is a high chain-link fence topped with barbed-wire loops.

We all exchange terse nods then focus our attention on the temporary stage that is set up before the Justice Building.