"Oh no,". The words leap out of my throat before I realize I opened my mouth. Not little Primrose. Sweet, rosy, innocent Prim, who cares for everyone and everything, won't last a day in the Hunger Games... 'And she's Katniss' little sister...She's going to volunteer.'
No sooner does the thought cross my mind than Katniss Everdeen's desperate voice that pierces the tense silence.
"Prim!"she cries, "Prim!". The girls in her section part for her like leaves in the wind, as she sprints to her sister. "I volunteer!", she gasps, "I volunteer as tribute!,"
My heart thuds like a lump of burned coal to the bottom of my stomach. Katniss. The girl I've loved for as long as I can remember, is a tribute now.
Prim launches into hysterics, and the dark-haired boy Katniss loves comes up and carries the little girl, flailing, back into the crowd. Effie Trinket, the pink wigged escort from the Capitol, tinkles on and on in her stupid accent about stupid things until she finally tells us to applaud the fact that this brave young girl now belongs to the Capitol. My hands are frozen stiff at my sides. Every part of this is wrong. I will not support it. I brace myself for the smattering of hands smacking themselves together out of fear. But it doesn't come. The silence seems to echo with power. The only form of rebellion anyone dares to participate in.
Then, not far in front of me, three fingers raise determinedly into the blue summer sky. It's an symbol in District 12, older than it is rare. The last time I saw it done was the funeral for my father's father. He was a good man. More fingers are pressed to pursed lips, and raised high in the air. I follow suit. If anyone deserves this gesture, it's Katniss. It's the best courage we can muster, and I'm glad I'm not alone in my anger.
Before I can wonder if the Capitol will punish us for this, Haymitch, the only surviving District 12 victor, provides the perfect distraction. Stumbling drunk, he staggers across the stage and puts an arm around Katniss' shoulder. 'Don't touch her' I think angrily. But all he does is pay her a compliment, telling her she's got spunk... and more than the Capitol. Those few words take the crowd of kids and parents out of the line of fire, because that's the most dangerous thing anyone has said in a long, long time. I can only hope President Snow will blow it off because Haymitch is so obviously intoxicated. Seconds later he face-plants it off the stage. No one bothers to catch him.
As the Capitol's Cameras train themselves on Haymitch, Katniss lets out an almost impercievable sob. I'm sure I'm the only one that sees it, and it lasts only an instant before her face goes stony again. 'She's so strong,' I think, 'She could win,'. The thought puts a glimmer of hope back in my heart, and I'm thinking of her triumphant return, which for a moment seems almost possible, when I hear Effie Trinket calling my name.
"Peeta Mellark!". My legs are numbed by the shock, but somehow they drag me up onto that stage. The odds could not be less in my favor today. I know, as I shakily take my place opposite Katniss that I will not make it out of the arena alive. I will do my best to make sure she is the one to go home, and if it comes down to it, take my own life rather than hers. And no one will ever know how much I love her.