"'Since the last Games, something's different. I can see it.' On the 20th of November 2015, the war will change everyone, including Prim."

~ For Prim ~

"It's okay, you were just dreaming," I gently whispered into her ear as she shook in my arms. "You were just dreaming."

I remember her warm breath blowing against my skin as she let out quiet sobs, tears streamed down her face. She was always an innocent one. Even the smallest of fears would leave her terrified. And that's why her biggest of fears left her dead.

Dead.

Hours later, I had myself bound together in a pale blue dress. The only thing that could keep myself together mentally and psychically. She was there with her white shirt tucked into her grey skirt, a small duck tail forming at the back.

"Silly little duck..."

She giggled as I flattened out the creases, her laughter was like silk.

"Your name is only in there once. They're not going to pick you," I informed her. She turned around like a ballerina, a frown filled her face. I slowly pulled a tiny object out from my pocket and held it up to her in my palm.

"Here. It's a Mockingjay pin," I explained, by then she was twirling it in her fingers. "As long as you have it, nothing bad will happen to you."

I helped her stick it into her shirt and she let out a smile at the golden bird. She was just like it. Like the Mockingjay. Peaceful and calm. Always thinking. Wondering. They both never harmed a soul.

She had vanished into her room when my mother appeared, the one who gave me the clothes for that day.

"You can't tune out again," I said, my voice louder and stern.

"I won't..."

"No. You can't. Not like when Dad died. I won't be there anymore, and you're all she has," I continued. "No matter what you feel, you have to be there for her. Do you understand?"

She carefully swiped her index finger under her left eye, wiping away the tear that had formed. I leaned in towards her and placed my arms around her, gently rocking her as she let out sad sighs.

"Don't cry. Don't," I whispered. "Don't.. Don't cry..."

I remember watching as Effie Trinket stood atop a small stage, reading out a name from a small slip of paper. Her name ran through my brain around in laps and over hurdles. She plagued my vision. Watched as she stood out from the crowds with her shirt that untucked itself back into a duck tail.

My throat became rusty and dry, but I fell out from my line and onto the small pathway.

"No! I volunteer!" I screamed as two Peacekeepers pushed me away from her. She twirled around like the ballerina she was again, staring at me with her deep brown eyes.

"I volunteer!"

I broke through both of the Peacekeepers and stood in might, staring at Effie Trinket on the stage.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

And that's what led me to be here today. Sitting in the corner of a darkened room, slowing rocking myself back and forth thinking of her. I constantly want her back, but I know I never will.

I just wanted to save my sister and keep Peeta alive. That's all it was. To save them both from the iternal hell I caught myself inside. No longer did evil voices inside my head become contained. Instead they were everywhere even when I was wide awake.

But it was like flipping a coin, hoping to land on both heads and tails. Impossible it was. I could only get one and lose the other. Gentle, soaring, drifting parachutes against dangerous, poisonous Tracker Jacker venom. The outcome for both of them wouldn't be what you would think. After all, there are always two sides to one Coin.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow.

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow.

Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes.

And when again they open, the sun will rise.

Author's Note:

Hello! I just wanted to say that all these 'Author's Note' things will be copy and pasted in each of these 'For The Mockingjay' oneshots. Yes, they will all be the same. If you're really confused by this, let me explain:

As you all know, the beautiful and amazing Hunger Games movie franchise will finally come to an end on November 20th. As a major fan of the series, I have decided to write as many oneshots 'for' the characters as I can to celebrate what it has achieved.

These stories will try and focus on the heart and soul of the characters, digging deep into their most special memories. I will try to do as many as I can. This is quite possibly one of the most craziest things I have attempted on this website, but whatever. The Hunger Games is too special for me to just treat as a sad ending... It must end in style, and I will help it end in style in my own way!

We all have one enemy, and that's President Snow! He corrupts everyone and everything! He turns the best of us against each other! Stop killing for him!

Tonight, turn your weapons to the Capitol. Turn your weapons to Snow!