DISCLAIMER: Blah blah blah, I don't own this, blah blah blah, I don't own that, blah blah blah, I don't own ANYTHING.
Please enjoy.
"Come on, Katniss…" I whisper, my eyes glued to the screen as she runs to the Cornucopia.
"Well, there goes the Girl on Fire," Caesar Flickerman says, eyes glowing in excitement.
My fists are clenched so tightly my knuckles are white, but I don't notice.
"She's going, she's going, and… Oh! Well, look at that! Clove from District Two makes her move – just look at how she can throw her knifes – but District Twleve manages to block it! That girl is really something, I tell you," the second commentator adds in, gloating that he got to narrate the first exciting tidbit of the night.
I try my best to shut out their mean voices, but they somehow wriggle past my ears, reminding me how close she was to dying – and how they enjoy it.
"And she pulls out her trademark bow and shoots! District Two manages to avoid the most critical damage, but it nicks her left arm," the second commentator continues, "I, for one, am relived she throws with her right. Wouldn't want the fun to end yet, folks!"
I swallow hard and cross my fingers. Because I know she has a chance.
My big sister has a chance.
My heart lifts as I watch Katniss grab the yellow pack with Peeta's medicine, and she looks like she'll make it and –
A second knife whistles past, and instead hitting air it slices through her forehead, blood spurting from the nasty gash. The happy feeling that was growing in me feels like it'd been punched out.
Head wounds tend to bleed a lot, I tell myself. So it's not like there's any real damage. She'll be fine.
And then Clove barrels into her, knocking her down and pinning her down.
"Where's your boyfriend, District Twelve? Still hanging on?" she sneers, and I feel my hands turn clammy.
I also feel tears starting to prick behind my eyes, but I try really hard not to let them fall. Because I know Katniss feels really bad when I cry. And I can't cry when I know she's going to win. That would mean that I was giving up on her. And that was one thing I'd never do. She's the strong one. She'll find a way out of it.
"He's out there now. Hunting Cato," Katniss snarls, and I can't help but picture him lying in the cave. Alone. Dying from blood poisoning.
"Peeta!" she screams, and Clove punches her windpipe, making me wince.
"Liar," Clove says after a moment, smiling evilly. "He's nearly dead. Cato knows where he cut him. You've probably got him strapped up in some tree while you try to keep his heart going. What's in the pretty little backpack? That medicine for Lover Boy? Too bad he'll never get it."
She grins as she opens her jacket, and I gasp.
Dozens of shiny, sleek, sharp knives lined up in neat little rows.
She takes her time picking one, and I take that time to pray. I pray so hard that something – some miracle will happen. That someone would help her. All this time, Katniss has always played the part of the hero. If there really was a God, he'd send someone to rescue her, just this once.
"I promised Cato if he let me have you, I'd give the audience a good show," Clove continues after delicately plucking a dangerously curved knife.
By now I can't stop my hiccupping sobs, making some people look at me with pity, others with annoyance. I was being noisy at the good part.
"Prim?" Rory asks, looking worried.
"It'll be fine," I reassure myself more than him. "Sh-she'll be fine. She always is."
Katniss was really lucky. A lot of times she was really close at getting caught doing something 'bad' by Peacemakers, but she always managed to squirm her way out of a sticky mess. And when it was over, sometimes we'd make funny faces behind their backs, giggling together the whole time.
I blank out the next few moments, remembering all the fun stuff we'd do together.
Katniss giving me hugs.
Katniss singing – she had such a pretty voice.
Katniss laughing, "Tuck your tail in, little duck."
Someone nudges me, and I snap out of it to something much worse.
"… going to kill you. Just like we did to your pathetic little alley –"
Whatever Clove said was too much for Katniss. A fiery blaze enters my sister's eyes and she spits into Clove's face, a disgusting mixture of saliva and blood.
"All right then," she hisses, "Let's get started."
My screams easily drone out Clove's laughter as her knife digs into my sister's face.
A/N: I know this is short, but it's just a prologue.
Feel free to leave offensive insults, constructive criticism, barbed compliments, actual compliments, non-idiotic suggestions, or your thoughts. They are all (un)equally welcome.
Btw, for those who forgot, Rory is Gale's younger brother.