Prim's Story, Chapter 1
I wake up gasping, bathed in a cold sweat. I look across the bed and am relieved to find Katniss, my older sister, sleeping soundly. Yet for some reason, though I am safe here, my heart keeps pounding. I had a bad dream, but I can't quite remember what it was about. Besides, I usually don't have bad dreams, and even when I do the fear quickly fades when I wake up and realize that none of it was real. Why was today any different? And then I remember.
Today is the Reaping.
I lie back down in the bed and almost begin to cry, but manage to hold the tears back. It will be my first Reaping, and there are no words strong enough to describe how afraid I am. I wonder how long I have until I have to get leave. I look out the window, and judging by the light I'd say it can't be any later than 3:00 AM. I take a shuddering breath and quietly slide out of bed and go to lie down with my mother. As soon as I am settled in, my cat, Buttercup, crawls up next to me. Despite what has happened, and what I fear will happen, I smile. I doubt I'll be able to sleep, but I close my eyes anyway, and I am soon drifting of to sleep again.
XX
When I wake up, my mom is already getting ready for the Reaping. Katniss is gone, probably out with her friend Gale. I really do wish she was here with me right now, but I smile when I see that the little goat cheese I left for her last night is gone. She must have taken it with her when she went to meet Gale.
"Come, Prim, we have to get you ready," calls my mother from her room.
I walk over to her and see the outfits she has set out for me and Katniss.
For me, she has laid out Katniss's first Reaping outfit, a simple little skirt and blouse. My mother helps pin it up with safety pins as I get dressed.
Soon my sister comes back home. She goes to bathe, and after puts on a blue dress, one of my mother's, with shoes to match. Then my mother braids her hair.
"You look beautiful," I tell her, and I mean it.
"And nothing like myself," She replies with an unhappy look on her face.
XX
At about one o'clock we head over to the reaping. I'm worried, both for me and for Katniss. Katniss is in much more danger than I am, her having to take the tesserae and all, and I can't stand the thought of losing her, so naturally I'm afraid for her. But even more than that I'm afraid for myself. Everyone keeps telling me how it's okay, I'm as safe as it gets, my name is only entered once out of the hundreds of thousands of names in there, how twelve-year-olds like me never get chosen anyway. But I don't believe them, and I'm still scared. I don't care how safe everybody says I am. The tiniest chance that I'll get chosen is just that: a chance. And I can't ignore that.
As we move towards the check-in, I notice all the camera crews around us, filming our reactions. It's sick how they use this for entertainment.
Katniss and I separate to go off into our age groups. The groups are roped of, one for each year from twelve-year-olds all the way up to eighteen-year-olds.
As soon as I hear the town clock strike two, Mayor Undersee stands up at the podium and begins reading a speech. Just like every year, it is the history of Panem. I tune him out. No point in listening to him anyway, hearing about all the disasters and war and most of all the pathetic explanations for why we have the Hunger Games would only depress me further. I only started listening when he began explaining the rules. Of course, I'd heard these before as well, but I never paid very close attention. After all, there was never a chance that I might compete before this year.
The mayor explained that each of the districts 1-12 had to provide two "tributes," as they call them, a boy and a girl. The chosen kids will be trapped in a sort of mystery arena for as long as it takes for all but one tribute to be killed in a fight to the death.
Cheery, isn't it?
He then lists the past District 12 victors. There are only two. One is dead. The other is a Haymitch Abernathy, a middle-aged drunk who is attempting to stagger onto the stage. He'll be the one mentoring the two chosen tributes this year, as he is the only available victor from our district.
Yeah, we're in pretty good shape here.
The mayor desperately attempts to bring the attention back to the Reaping by introducing our Capitol representative, Effie Trinket, who is currently on the stage being hugged by a drunken Haymitch. Any other day I would have laughed, but not today. Today I was just plain terrified, and as I watch Effie goes over to the glass ball containing all the girls' names, I take a deep breath and try to stay calm. Just one more minute, and I won't have to be scared anymore.
Effie reaches in and pulls out a single slip of paper. The crowd is silent as Effie reads the name.
"Primrose Everdeen."