Hey Everyone! This is my first time on a fanfiction site and also my first time posting any creative writing. This is a short ch. I know but definitely more to come. Feedback, reviews, critiques, questions, or concerns-please don't hesitate to share honestly. I appreciate it all. This will hopefully come to trace Prim through The Hunger Games trilogy, as told by her, thus The Prim Chronicles. However, I'm trying to base it off of what information Collins actually gave us about Prim from the real books and from there fill in a story of what she goes through up until, as we all know who've read, her tragic end. I hope you enjoy what I think her words, her tale is.
Disclaimer: All Rights, Characters, etc. belong to author Suzzane Collins, The Hunger Games trilogy
Prim sat up suddenly, gasping for air, her skin on fire. She's burning. She's sure of it. Pushing back the covers frantically she examined her thin body beneath the faded white nightgown that was once Katniss's. She holds her hands to her face, trembling. Pale smooth fingers flex before her eyes, unblemished and untouched by fire, but the sensation lingers. The smell of smoke, of burnt flesh—she can taste the ash. Her mouth is dry and breathing ragged, she's struggling to keep from crying out.
Katniss isn't here.
A ray of light dances on the sheets she'd cast to the end of the bed marking the beginning of a new day—the first day of the hunger games.
Katniss isn't here.
She exhales shakily, turning to the right hearing her mother stir slightly but her breathing is deep and even, sleep untroubled by flames. Prim closes her eyes, pressing her lips tightly together but a small sob escapes her.
Katniss isn't here because Katniss is in the games. She shudders. It should have been her.
The guilt hits her hard and burns just as painfully as the fire she was almost certain she'd felt consuming her just moments before. It was her name that was called. It was she who should be going but no, no Katniss volunteered. What are the odds? Prim felt the shame mixed with relief well up inside her at the thought. The odds weren't something she'd considered really. Katniss had always been there. She'd always taken care of them. Looking back Prim knew there was no way Katniss would ever have let her walk onto that stage. That wasn't who she was. She was everything to Prim, everything to a lot of people but Katniss didn't notice. She'd only thought of us…family—me.
And if she dies it's my fault.
She stuffed clenched fists into her mouth trying to stifle the cries that started to rack her small frame. Katniss wouldn't cry. I have to be brave. She felt something soft land lightly into her lap, purring loudly, nuzzling the tears from her face. She reached out and pulled Buttercup close, burying her face into the disheveled fur of his neck. He purred louder as she gently petted him, the movement calming, familiar. Inhaling the distinct scent of him, which to others might be less than pleasant, Prim found comfort. Her breathing slowed, until she could feel the steady beating of her heart in rhythm with Buttercup's. She sighed, rubbing tears from bleary eyes and frowned suddenly in fierce concentration, willing the thoughts that came to her to be truth.
Katniss would win. She had to. She just had to.
Prim would cling to this hope.
Katniss may be gone but the Seam was still here, the peacekeepers, the fence, and the hunger. Prim knew she could never be Katniss, she was just her, but she would survive no matter what to see Katniss come home. She smiled at the thought, as dreams of fires faded in the wake of day.