I won't post any lengthy introduction. Just wanted to say "hi" and welcome to my story. I won't demand any reviews but they are very much appreciated. Hope you enjoy. :)

My heart races as the other tributes come closer and closer. They all hold weapons, each of them pointing at me.

I whimper, helpless. "Please—please don't hurt me!"

The smallest boy is larger than I am. He grabs me by the collar. A tear trickles down my cheek. But he's so young... The Hunger Games could make killers out of anyone.

"You don't belong here, twelve." He whips out a dagger. "And you'll the be the first to go."

"NO!" I bolt upright in the bed, the bloodthirsty cries of the tributes still ringing in my ears. Suddenly, my mother is there, holding me close and stroking my hair.

My breaths come out in short spurts as I gather where I am. I am not in the arena. I'm not dead. I'm in my mother's bed. I never left the Seam.

"Shh, Prim. Everything's all right. You're safe."

My heartbeat slows and I lie back down without a word, letting my mother comfort me. That's what I love about sleeping with my mother. She's often in a daze, and there are times when I don't think she's aware of me or Katniss—but she always comes alive when I have a nightmare, holding and kissing me, and whispering words of comfort. I think that's when I love her most. Katniss always slept through my nightmares.

Katniss. I had lost count of the number of entries she had in the Games. What if she—

No. She can't be chosen. That would be worse than if my name were to be drawn. Mom needed Katniss. I only have one entry this year and Katniss has many. Yet I can't shake the fear that the odds will not be in my favor. I shiver, burrowing my head into my mother. I don't want to face today. For it is the day of the reaping.

As I wait for Katniss to return from hunting with Gale, my mother prepares me for the reaping. Soon, I'm pacing back and forth in Katniss's first reaping outfit, my hair neatly braided. Katniss comes in, smiles at me, and sets her bag on the table. If we escape the reaping-I think-we'll be celebrating with whatever she and Gale brought back.

"There's a tub of water waiting for you." I gesture towards the back room. She nods tightly and disappears.

She returns, cleaner than I've ever seen her. "You look beautiful," I say softly.

"And nothing like myself," she says, and hugs me.

I've always thought my sister was pretty, but since her face was normally so covered with dirt I hardly recognize her. Mother had given her the blue dress, and did her hair too. I smile and reach up to touch the fabric.

"Katniss?"

"Yes, Prim?"

"I think-"

But before I can complete my sentence the door bursts open, scaring my cat, Buttercup, away.

"Katniss!" It's Madge, and she's panting hard. "Katniss," she addresses my sister, "my father needs to see you. Right away."

Katniss looks confused. "Why would Mayor Undersee want to see me now? It's almost time for the reaping."

"I know." Madge's face is grim. Her voice lowers to almost a whisper. "It's about—well—one of the peacekeepers has heard some of the things you've been saying about the Capitol. One of the...stricter...peacekeepers."

Katniss's stricken face must mirror my own. Most of the time, Katniss would hold her tongue, but too often her anger got the best of her. I clutch my sister's dress.

"B-but. The reaping. Attendance is mandatory."

Madge startles as if she just noticed I was there. "I'm sorry, Prim," she says to me. "But if it's Katniss's name that is called then she will be brought to the square immediately." This doesn't comfort me.

Katniss raises her chin defiantly. "I can't leave Prim. The peacekeepers will have to wait."

Madge shakes her head. "Katniss...I don't think you have a choice."

I grab my sister's hand. She closes her eyes and swallows. Finally, she jerks her head in compliance and squats down to look at me. "Don't worry, little duck," she says as she tucks in my blouse. "Mother will take you to the square. And Madge will go with you."

I nod, trying not to cry. One moment I was staring into my sister's brave eyes and the next I was on my way to the reaping, holding the hand of the mayor's daughter.

We file into the square, and, with one last hug and kiss from my mother, and a hand squeeze from Madge, I am sent to stand with the other twelve-year-olds.

A girl on my left is already crying, her sobs wracking every part of her body. I put my hand on her shoulder, swallowing back my own tears.

"I-I had to put in f-five entries," the girl gasps. "We needed the tessarae."

I don't know what to say. My mind is torn between worrying about Katniss and myself, and even other children like this girl. Any one of us could be called up to the stage to be sacrificed for the Games.

I hate the Hunger Games. How can the Capitol be so cruel? But, I can't bring myself to hate them, somehow. Fear is the only thing that fills me when I think of the Capitol.

I look up. Mayor Undersee is missing so Effie Trinket takes the stage. "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" The crowd is hushed, and so solemn, but I don't think the pink haired escort notices. She scans the crowd with a bright smile.

Filling in for the mayor, she gives the history of Panem and an overview of the rules of the Hunger Games. She sounds like the commentators on the Capitol's fashion shows. If only she could feel what I feel...how I yearn for my sister...how I dread dying in the arena.

Then, it's time for the drawing.

"Ladies first!" Effie chirps, and my heart skips a beat.

Please. Please. Please. Please.

She pulls out a slip of paper.

All of my nightmares come back to me in that moment, and I think of how easily I would be killed in the arena. I'm just a twelve-year-old girl. I'm not brave. I can't hunt like Katniss.

Please. Please. Please.

"And District Twelve's first tribute is—Primrose Everdeen!"

No.

Suddenly I can feel all of the eyes in the square on me. Effie calls my name again, but I can't move. Beside me, the distraught girl's eyes widen. "That's you!" she says with awe and relief.

I nod. There's not sound to be heard except of someone weeping.

Mother.

Poor mother. I have to be brave. I have to be brave. What would Katniss do?

Slowly, painfully, I make my way to the front. My blouse has come untucked again, but I don't bother to fix it. It takes all I have to put one foot in front of the other.

Effie is all smiles, taking me by the shoulder and placing me in the center of the stage. She introduces me and asks for volunteers, but there are none.

If I wasn't so scared I would be relieved. If Katniss was here she would surely volunteer for me.

I want to break down and cry when the male tribute is announced. It is Peeta Mellark, the baker's son. He's so kind...I used to stand at the window of the bakery, gawking at his cakes...

But before Peeta can even make it to the stage, a shout erupts from the crowd.

"I volunteer!"

It was Gale! But why would he volunteer?

"Lovely!" Effie gushes.

Gale is already on the stage, and his arm drops around my shoulders. "Don't worry, Prim. I'm going to protect you," he whispers into my ear.

Now I know why he volunteered for Peeta.

For the rest of the ceremony I'm in daze. I think I must know how Mom felt after Dad died, not being able to speak, or move, or do anything for sorrow.

And then, I can't help it. I'm not brave like Katniss. I cry. For Gale and myself, for my mother, for Katniss who could be in danger right now, I cry harder than I ever have before. Because I know, even with Gale to protect me, the odds are not in my favor.