I lay on the couch, my feet propped up on the arm. Prim sits on the floor next to me. I am intently watching the television. I don't know how to control my terror. It seems to consume me. What if they make ME choose the tribute? I can't be responsible for someone else's kids death. Suddenly President Snow appears on the screen. He holds an envelope with the number seventy five scrawled into it in swirly letters. The red ink gives it the appearance of being written in blood. For all I know it could be blood. Snow clears his throat. He takes a letter opener, engraved beautifully with roses and begins opening this envelope. A envelope that will send at least two, maybe even more kids to their death. He speaks clearly, not wanting anyone to miss a word.
"On account of the seventy fifth Hunger Games one male and one female tribute will be reaped out of the existing pool of victors" A smirk spreads across his face. Prim starts screaming. Mom is bawling. There is only one thing I think to do, I run. I don't run far, but I RUN. Swift and fast to get to Peeta's house quick enough. I knock, no pound on his door. I can hear his mechanic leg pound on the floor as he races to the door.
"Katniss!" He exclaims as he opens the door and I fall into his arms. I cry into his arms. It's the only thing I can muster to do. We collapse on the couch. He's kissing me, I do the same. Our connection is intense. You could possibly see the sparks flying as we our bodies moved as one. He leans his head down so its level with mine. Then whispers in my ear "I think we should move upstairs." That was one suggestion I wasn't about to argue with.
We were still awake when the alarm rang at four that next morning. He kissed me gently. "I have to leave for work soon." I pout but accept this reality. I end up searching for my clothes. How does a bra get on the ceiling fan? When I'm finally dressed I slipped out the back door of Peeta's house and slipped into mine. When I walked into the kitchen I was bombarded with questions of "Where have you been" accompanied with sobs and hugs. I told them I'd been in the woods mom seemed worried but Prim smirked. Crap, did she see me walk into Peeta's house? Or maybe even out of it? I shook it off, what do I care. I'll be dead in a few months anyway. I grabbed an apple then went to check on Haymitch. His house smelled heavily of liquor. Broken bottles covered the floor. Good thing I wore my hunting boots.
"Haymitch!" I yell as I hear the glass crunch under me. I have to call for him three more times before I get him to sputter awake. His classic opening, threatening to kill me. Then sputters of he has to protect me. I think I'll leave him to that one. But before I leave I ask, more tell what I want from him. "Will you promise to protect Peeta during the quell?" He hasn't been reaped yet but everyone knows he'll volunteer so he can protect me.
"Now I think that's a great idea sweetheart" He bellows. "But Peeta was already in here asking me to protect you" he then mutters something about Peeta waking him up at four thirty in the morning. God I'm stupid. I could've beat him here, I could've saved him by coming over here before I went back home. I moped home. As soon I was in the door I ran up to my room. I don't plan on coming out, at least until Peeta got home at four. For now I just cried.
I wandered into his house at four thirty he was cooking cheesy buns. There seems to be an abundance of them ever since I told him they were my favorite.
"Hey sweetie" he says pulling another batch of cheesy buns out of the oven.
"Hi" I mummer back softly. swiping one of the cheesy buns off the counter. He grins.
"Who said you could have one, sticky fingers" For the first time all day I smile at this. He comes over and pecks a kiss on my cheek. I kiss him back dead on the lips. He smiles and pulls me through the kitchen, living room, and up the stairs. Most of our days went almost exactly like this. Only three times a week we trained. Did you know that for a man that sleeps with a knife in his hand Haymitch can't even hit the side of a building with a knife. But I went home with Peeta every night leading up to the quell. Nine days before the quell something changed, my cycle was late. Four days late. I took a deep breath, mom always said to wait a week before you freak out. So all I have to do is wait until Saturday, no biggie.