Ok, so this is my first fanfic and I wrote it pretty quickly but please read and review! I did not have CF with me while writing this so I apologize for missing anything that happened.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games
Reading of the card, 75 Hunger Games
POV of Primrose Everdeen
I sit on the couch in my new home, curled up against mother. I eagerly watch as pictures of Katniss in various wedding dresses flash across the screen, occasionally making comments. I particularly love the one with the pearls. As I look at the pictures I remember that I was there, right in front of her, as they were taken. She looked even prettier before the capitol modified her pictures with their fancy technology.
As the announcer tells the capitol how to vote I sit up, preparing to leave the room, when the camera moves to President Snow's mansion. I sit back down, confused as to why they are showing the president with a young boy holding a box. My mother tenses beside me. "It must be the reading of the card." She whispers.
The reading of the card. The event that determines the fate of the unlucky tributes participating in the Quarter Quell, which means all children between the ages of 12 and 18. I am 13 years old this year and am sure they want to get Katniss back for making them look like fools. The perfect way to do this would be by killing me.
A million thoughts run through my head as I wonder what cruel fate awaits me.
What if they only choose victor's family members? It would be me and Peeta's older brother, no doubt.
What if the Capitol chooses the tributes themselves? That would pretty much guarantee my death.
What if only 13 year olds could be chosen? That would certainly increase my chances.
No matter what the Quell is, I'm sure they'll rig the reaping so that I'll be chosen a second time.
I'm thinking of even more "What If's" when President Snow's voice sounds throughout all of Panem. "On the 75th games, to show the Rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the capitol, the tributes from each district will be chosen out of their existing pool of victors."
I freeze, my mouth hanging open. I can't help but feel slight relief, but I hate myself for it, just like last year's reaping. I bury my face in mother's dress. I am not going into the arena. My sister is. Again.
I turn to look for Katniss but she has already left.