The Strength of a Rose
The air is cold, silent. The soft breeze is thick with the smoke smelling stench from the mines. The birds are silent, as if they know what is happening. Everybody is out of work, because this is considered a holiday in our world, no matter how sick and twisted it may be.
Reaping day.
I am Primrose Everdeen. This is my first year at the Reaping. I'm only twelve. It seems unfair doesn't it? Being forced in the square as the fate of your life relies on a slip of paper in a ball? It's not just unfair. It's sick.
And I'm terrified. Not for me, although it's scary, but for my older sister, Katniss. She insisted on signing up for tessarae, and forbidding me from doing the same. Her name is in the ball so many times… mine is only in once. Fear is too high towards her, when the odds of my name being pulled are so slim.
We're walking to the square now. Katniss has to remind me to keep my shirttail tucked in. I'm wearing the outfit from her first Reaping, and it's a little big. She wanted to get it altered for me, but we couldn't afford it. We can't afford much nowadays anyway. I've grown used to it.
I'm silent as I line up with the rest of the twelve year olds. My best friend, Lily, stands next to me. I'm happy for that, because I need all the comfort I can get. Katniss can't stand with me, because she is sixteen. My heart is pounding and the blood is rushing in my ears.
The waiting is terrifying. The whole population of district twelve is here now. Silently waiting with baited breath as we dread the upcoming moments.
After what seems like an eternity, a short woman with a crazy outfit and makeup, and what is no doubt a wig climbs up to the stage. Effie Trinket. The voice of our district for the Hunger Games.
"Welcome to the seventy fourth Hunger Games!" She says exuberantly in her heavy Capitol accent. "And may the odds be ever in your favor!"
I roll my eyes as inconspicuously as I can. Anything said in a Capitol accent sounds ridiculous, but just looking at Effie in her crazy outfit makes it almost weirder.
"As always, ladies first!"
My heart begins to pound, all traces of amusement seeming to rush out of my veins like wildfire, fear taking its place. Katniss' name could be drawn from that ball today, and she would be gone, forced to compete in a fight to the death. I have no doubt she would win, because she is the strongest person I know. But seeing her go… it would be unbearable for me.
Effie Trinket's hand claws around in the ball for a few agonizing minutes, before she pulls out the slip of paper slowly, unfolding it and pausing for effect. I freeze at the name that comes out of her mouth. It's not Katniss.
"Primrose Everdeen!" She says it like it's an honor to be chosen. That I'm going to an extravagant party rather than a brutal arena filled with people ten times stronger with me.
It doesn't make sense. My name was in once. The odds were in my favor.
Everyone, even Lily, backs away from me uncertainly. They have that look in their eyes that everyone does when someone is chosen. The look of pity, mixed with relief that it wasn't them. The latter they try to hide. I feel a rustle of uneasiness run through the crowd, and I know it's because a twelve year old has been chosen. Since I'm so young, people automatically assume I don't have a chance. It doesn't raise my confidence at all.
"Well?" Effie Trinket's voice resonates through the square. "Primrose Everdeen? Where are you? Come on up!"
Almost forgetting to breathe, I cautiously step out into the aisle the crowd has created for me. I walk with slow, uncertain steps. I can tell that my shirt is coming untucked again. Then I hear the voice.
"Prim!" Katniss. "Prim!"
I turn and see Katniss running towards me, and shoving me behind her as she says with almost desperate urgency, "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"
No. She can't volunteer for me. She just can't. It's one thing for me to go into the arena, but for her? I wouldn't be able to survive with that. Having to watch from the sidelines on a broken down television in our living room. I can't live with that.
"No," I find my voice. "I refuse. I want to be the tribute."
I've just done something no one has ever done before. Normally, when someone volunteers for another, they are immediately in place for that person. Usually the other person is relieved. No one has ever refused a volunteer before. Katniss turns to face me, pain and worry etched on her face and her mouth is open, but before she can say anything, I run up to the stage and stand next to Effie Trinket, and Katniss is now powerless to volunteer. Her shoulders slump in defeat, and she walks back to her place in line. There are tears in her eyes.
Effie Trinket's eyes are sparkling, "Well what an interesting turn of events!"
I resist the urge to roll my eyes again. Effie doesn't seem to realize that not everything is one big show.
"And now for the boys."
I try to avoid Katniss' eyes as Effie calls the boy tributes name. Peeta Mellark. I register blonde hair and blue eyes before I realize that he is familiar. At school, I've often seen him staring at Katniss, as if he knows her, when as far as I know, they've never spoken. But they must have shared something at some point, and when Effie tells us to shake hands, I see an emotion in his eyes that resembles sorrow. Sorrow for me. For Katniss.
~O~
We have one hour. One hour to say goodbye to everyone we've ever cared about. It's not nearly enough. I can think of a thousand things I want to say. But when I try to assemble them in my mind, they get jumbled up in a mix of thoughts.
The door opens suddenly, and Katniss rushes in and gathers me in a hug. I return the embrace with fervor.
"I'm sorry," she says.
"For what?" I whisper. "You didn't do anything."
"I should have fought, tried harder to make sure it was me and not you."
I shake my head, pulling back from the hug.
"It has to be me. You have so stay and take care of everyone. You have Gale to help you; you have to hunt so the people have food, and so you can trade in the Hub and the bakery. You'll be of more benefit if you're here."
She shakes her head, finally letting the tears run steadily down her cheeks.
"I love you." She says urgently. "So, so much Prim. Promise me you'll do your best to stay alive?"
We both know I have no chance. It's likely the tributes from the other districts have been trained, and are older and bigger than I am. The only thing I know how to do is heal, and I couldn't kill anything, not even a fly. I know that when I go into the arena… I'm not coming back out. But I nod anyway.
"Okay," I say. "I'll try to win for everyone here."
I want to cry, but I don't. If I do, Katniss will probably beg to take my place, because she'll think it's too much for me. But I need her to stay here. If she does, it will be better for everyone. If, no when, I die, my mother is a healer. No one will lose anything from losing me.
They come in, and take her away. I realize that my mother was never here, and that almost breaks me into a million pieces inside. It was bad enough when my father died that she was unresponsive for weeks, but it's even worse now. I'm leaving, most certainly to my death, and my own mother didn't some to say goodbye. In some ways, it's worse than dying.
I sit on a nearby couch, and bring my knees to my chest. I want to cry, but I can't. I seem to not have the ability. I can only sit like a statue, unresponsive, stone. The only moment I unfreeze is when the door opens again. A girl walks in, and I recognize her immediately. It's the mayor's daughter, Madge. She walks over to me, smiling gently and sitting beside me on the couch.
"Have you ever heard of a Mockingjay?"
It's strange, that these are the first words she says to me. I expect her to say something about how she's sorry that I was chosen, or that she feels bad that this had to happen to me. But she surprises me.
"Yes." I say. "My father used to sing and they would repeat the notes."
Madge smiles gently. Then she takes my hand, and closes my fingers around a metal object. When I open my hand, I see that it's a pin, with the figure of a Mockinjay and an arrow on it.
"My father had someone make it. He was going to give it to your sister, because he knows she loves archery, and Mockinjays. But, since it's you that's been picked before he had the chance to give it away, we've decided to give it to you. To keep you safe."
I smile in gratitude. Madge smiles back, knowing that I am grateful without me even voicing it out loud. The guards come in then, telling her she has to leave. She casts one more look at me before rising.
"Good luck," she says, and then she'd gone.
Once I'm alone, I attach the pin to my shirt. It means more to me than anyone can ever know, because it has ties to both my father and Katniss. I feel safer than I have in a long time.
After about another twenty minutes of sitting there, Effie Trinket comes into the room, and smiles. It's the first genuine expression I've seen on her, and it's one of silent pity. She knows that I probably won't survive this.
"Hello Primrose."
"Prim," I correct automatically.
"Sorry, Prim. It's time for dinner."
With that, she turns and exits the room, and I have no choice but to follow.
YAY! First Hunger Games fic! It's about eleven at night, and I was about to go to sleep when this tugged on some part of my brain and would not leave me alone until I wrote it. And, just to clarify, Prim sounds a lot more mature than you'd usually expect, but I always imagined her to be more intelligent than she seems, and I wanted to write her that way. I hope I've done the characters at least some justice.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and Reviews are appreciated!