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Prim's POV
When I wake up, I'm deliciously warm. For a second I forgot what today was. My mother is curled up around me like a cocoon. Her face was buried in my hair, splaying it in different directions. Mother's skin is always soft and touchable. Mother looks so peaceful when she sleeps. Everyone does really. I told Katniss this and how I wished everyone could just sleep forever. That's when Katniss very carefully, but very truthfully explained to me what death was. Today, a feeling not unlike death was in the air.
The sun's rays already permeated the stained window and filled the room, so I knew it would only be a few hours until the reaping. I slowly pushed Buttercup off the bed, and heard him land with a quiet thud. He was still sleeping. I pried myself out of Mother's arms, careful not to wake her up. Unfortunately, I wasn't very stealthy and she rose almost immediately after I escaped her grasp.
"I'll warm up a tub and set out a dress for you," Mother says. She doesn't say good morning, because she isn't fond of lying. Katniss had already left and taken the goat cheese. She probably saw it as a gift. It was actually my pathetic way of repaying her after all she's done for us. If I was half as capable as Katniss, then maybe I'd be less of a burden.
Katniss left to go hunting/gathering, and Mother was setting the tub. I needed something to keep me busy, too. Today was the reaping, which brought upon a wave emotions that I couldn't help unless I distracted myself. The selfish fear of getting picked, even though the chance was one in thousands. Guilt over not taking tesserae, even though Katniss would never let me.
I opened the backdoor to greet Lady, my goat. The weather was infuriatingly nice. It shouldn't be allowed to be this pleasant on such an unpleasant day. Lady greeted me by trotting toward me and softly butting me with her horns. I ran my fingers through her fur. People have said that her fur was a pretty brown color, but I thought that was unimaginative. To me, her fur was the color of tree bark in the winter. It was the color of coarse leather after it had been left out in the sun. I smiled at her as I placed the metal bucket under her udders. I concentrated on methodically emptying milk from Lady into the bucket. When it was filled, I considered starting the process that would turn the milk into cheese, but realized we were out of liquid milk. Katniss was coming back soon so she could drink it then.
A tub of warm water awaits me as I enter the house. I bathe. Usually I bathe quickly but decide to enjoy it this time. I wash my hair and wait until my fingers prune before I leave. I recognize the outfit Mother had laid out for me was Katniss's original reaping outfit. A skirt and a ruffled blouse that looked a bit too big for me. I pulled it on anyway and tucked the blouse into the skirt. Mother came up behind me with pins, and as she worked on my outfit, I towel-dried and plaited my hair into two braids. I look at myself in the cracked mirror. The girl staring back at me was fragile. Soft. Defenseless. She was a girl who wouldn't last two seconds in the Games. I grimaced at my reflection. Even the girl's grimace was humorous. Like a puppy trying to growl like a lion.
Katniss comes in carrying fish, bread, strawberries, salt, and paraffin. She sets the food on the table and excuses herself to bathe. Mother sets out a beautiful blue dress for Katniss to wear on the bed. I recognized it as one of Mother's dresses from her apothecary days. I fingered the material. It felt expensive and light. I unfolded the dress and smoothed it out over the bed, so it could be admired as a whole. After Katniss came out and dressed, Mother dried and braided Katniss's hair. Mother's fingers still worked deftly, even after all these years. Katniss had always been beautiful, in a heroic, strong kind of way. But wearing a luxurious dress with her hair braided up like a princess, she looked unrecognizable. If she looked like a hero to me before, she looked like a goddess now.
"You look beautiful," I whisper.
"And nothing like myself," Katniss sighs and wraps her olive-toned arms around me. I lean my head into her chest, so I can hear her heartbeat. I tried to take comfort in the hug, but it was hard in the situation. It was hard knowing Katniss's chances in being reaped. I wouldn't let my anguish show in front of Katniss. She had enough things to worry about. I pull away and turn around so she wouldn't see the worry that's painted my face.
"Tuck your tail in, little duck," Katniss says, smoothing the blouse in place. Despite my worry, I giggle.
"Quack," I say in a nasally voice.
"Quack yourself," Katniss laughs. "Come on, let's eat," She plants a quick kiss on my forehead as she analyzes the spoils on the table. Mother had already started cooking the fish and greens in a stew, which would be ready for supper. We decide to save the strawberries and bakery bread for supper as well. We drink the milk that I had gotten from Lady earlier and eat the rough bread made from the tessera grain. The bread wasn't delicious before, but today we really couldn't taste anything. None of us really had much of an appetite.
We don't head out for the reaping until one. Waiting is hard because we're all restless. Katniss counts and recounts her arrows, Mother focuses on the food for supper, and I polish Dad's picture until I can see my reflection. I'm in no way excited to go to the reaping, but when we finally do head out, I'm glad that we don't have to sit around waiting anymore.
The reaping is held in the square. This is almost as insulting as the beautiful weather, because the square is one of the few places in District 12 that had an enjoyable feel to it. The multifarious square is crowded with shops. Each filled with different types of treasures that Prim could never afford, but liked to admire. The store-owners liked her, so they didn't mind that she didn't buy anything. As long as she didn't touch the merchandise. It would've looked especially festive today, what with all the brightly colored banners, celebratory decorations and all, but the apprehensive faces of the afraid ruined the mood.
A grim atmosphere seemed to settle like a thick, suffocating blanket over the square, sucking the color out of the decorations, the air, and the people. The apathetic buzzing of the camera crews added to the affect. Katniss's face was expressionless ,but when she caught me staring at her, she gave me a thin lipped smile. After we sign in, we have to separate. I'm clumped with the other twelve-year-olds. We avoid each other's' eyes. Families look on from the perimeter, throwing reassuring but empty words to their children. Their children struggle to catch these words, but their hands don't find purchase and they stare stoically at the ground. More people file in-the square was teeming with the potential victors- and I start to feel claustrophobic. I move my focus from the ground to the makeshift stage in front of the Justice Building as the annual speech begins.
I stare at the two giant glass balls. Like the crystal ball of a gypsy, those glass balls will decide our fate. I stare at the glass ball holding the girl names. One of the slips of paper says Primrose Everdeen on it. One in thousands. I repeat it again and again. A calming mantra. Two chairs behind the glass ball are occupied by Mayor Undersee, Effie Trinket, District 12's pink-haired, unseasonably perky escort. There is a third chair but it is currently empty.
The clock strikes two, and Mayor Undersee finishes his tired speech about the history of Panem. The speech seemed cruel. We all knew the history, how the Capitol was merciful and the Hunger Games was a small sacrifice for the betrayal of the districts. All the speech did was prolong our misery. We all just wanted to get this over with. A couple more events pass, including Haymitch-District 12's only living victor- doing an odd drunk dance across the stage and Effie Trinket's signature "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!", and then the moment everyone has been waiting for.
The reaping.
"Ladies' first!" Effie squeals and saunters over to the glass ball. A collective gasp is heard as people hold their breath. She swishes her manicured hand dramatically before she decidedly pulls out a slip. She turns, holding the slip close to her chest, as if to hide it from us, to build the suspense. She heads back to podium and announces the lucky victor in a clear voice.
I feel it before I hear it.
"Primrose Everdeen,"
Effie smiles and some families shamelessly celebrate their luck. They're spared for another year! Jeering and cheers are mixed with sounds of disapproval. No one thought it was fair when 12-year-olds were reaped. As for me, thought had trouble registering in my mind. All the air in my lungs rushed out at once and I forgot how to breathe. My heartbeat pounded so fast it felt like it was humming. I had no idea the sound of my own name could be so terrifying. I had nightmares about being chosen. I had imagined screaming, running, resisting, but now that it actually happened, I'm a statue. Someone nudges me from behind, and I come crashing back into reality.
People part for me to pass through, as if I caught a contagious disease. I take tentative steps forward, refusing to look anywhere except directly in front of me, until I'm almost to the stage. I hear someone yelling my name, and soon Katniss's arm- the arm that's always watched over me- swept me back, and she was standing protectively in front of me.
"I volunteer!" Katniss gasps, as if she's afraid no one will hear her. "I volunteer as tribute," I stare in shock. Katniss can't do this. I'd rather die in the games than live with the guilt. How quickly the atmosphere has changed in a matter of seconds.
"Lovely!" Effie trills. "But I believe there is some sort of procedure to this…" She trails off and looks questioningly at the mayor. I search for my voice but my crippling fear doesn't allow me to form coherent thoughts, much less coherent sentences.
"What does it matter?" The mayor says gruffly. Where is my voice? "Let her come forward," There it is.
"No." I had meant to yell it, but it was barely audible. Barely.
"What was that, dear?" Effie asked, blinking curiously at me with those ridiculous fake eyelashes- overweighted with glitter and pink.
"No! I was reaped. Me," My voice sounded almost confident until it cracked at the end. "I volunteer," I stole a glance at Katniss and immediately wished I hadn't. Katniss's eyes reminded me of the eyes of a patient my mother and I tried to help cure after I told him that there was no hope.
"No!" Katniss screamed, and lunged forward. Gale held her back with his iron grip. Gale nodded at me respectfully. But the pity in his eyes was unmistakable. He knew I was doomed, but he loved Katniss too much to let her sacrifice herself for me. Katniss pounded at Gale's muscular arms in fury. "I hate you, Gale! I will never forgive you! When something happens, I swear," Then she let out a string of curses, but I had already stopped listening. What she had said left shivers in my spine as I scrambled up onto the stage.
Not if something happens. When something happens. I don't have a chance.
I hoped you liked it! Reviews please and Happy Easter and Happy April Fools Day!