Crushed. Crushed. I must be holding my breath, because I can't breathe. But something, some terrible part of me born in poverty and coal dust and years of weight, forces me to stand strong. I reveal nothing to this crowd - no one must know it even makes a difference to me which name has been called. But inside, it does. I feel my words from earlier, in the forest, returning: heavy with memories and laced with acidic regret. Seconds after my world has crashed, I hear her.

"I volunteer!" she screams, just as I knew she would. I don't look, don't watch her emotions played out for the whole world to see. It feels like I would be violating something, if I did. Now I hear Prim, crying. She is only a child, but I know she understands - more than anybody could ever want to - and the understanding is crushing her just like it is crushing me. I cannot stand here and ignore any longer.

I step forward, breaking ranks angrily. The other boys see my eyes and easily step aside, clearing a path all the way to Prim. She hears me coming, and her shouts grow louder.

"No! No!"

"I must not cry. I must not cry." That phrase pounds through my head as I scoop Prim up and carry her to her mother. I return to my line, stand tall with all the other boys and beg any god who exists to let my name be picked. I cannot volunteer, cannot abandon all of my responsibilities here. Even now, as my world crashes around me, I am not able to leave the people depending on me. And even if I could, she would hate me for it. But, if I were to be Reaped...

My thoughts are scattered to the wind as the name is read and it registers that it is not mine. Not mine. I allow myself one glance at her, see the hollow pain in her eyes - and I look away. I will not volunteer, and I wonder for a second if I will hate myself for that.

:

She is taken away, and I follow her family to the room where she is. They go in, and I know their time is up when I begin to hear Prim through the door. They come out, somehow more broken even than before. Her mother looks at me, unshed tears sparkling - and I see a promise there. As if we are partners now, and she will not let me down. For a thrill of a moment, I am proud; and then it hits me that the only reason she is making this promise is because my true partner is...leaving. Dying.

They let me in, and she is standing right in front of the door. There is a split second of startled surprise, and then I hold tight as she collapses in my arms. Her words are gasping, breathy with panic and fear and a cold despair.

"I will not cry. I will not cry. She is close, but I cannot be - she needs to know I will stay strong. Later I will have a chance to help her understand how much I care but now I have to be strong. Wait. Later? There will be no later...I must not cry."

There is too much to say now, so I say none of it and instead tell her the only lie I have ever told her. "It's no different." It is a lie, but the painful part is that it is so close to the truth. All of those kids will die just as easily as if they had been animals. My voice is rough with the tears I am holding back, and I hope she doesn't notice; but there is no time for anything else because our time is up and they are dragging me out - and that's the end.

:::

Later does come though. Later comes, and I forget how hard I hoped for another chance to say all the things I should've said but didn't. Later, I don't remember why I decided to lie in our very last conversation. Later is after the time we both assumed would bring death - and yet, in a way, it has. The girl I knew before is gone, lost somewhere among the blood and bodies and knives sparkling in the sunshine. Her body survived, but I know that any innocence and happiness died there, the very first moment she chose to sell her soul and live.

The same responsibility that kept my words swallowed up and my feet firmly in District Twelve is what pulled her through the Games. It is her responsibility to Prim that beat in her heart, pumping the blood and keeping her living when any other person would have given up and died. And that responsibility is all that has returned, all that is left of what used to be Katniss. Everything else, she murdered and discarded as unnecessary weight to carry; and truly, if she had tried to keep it all there would be nothing here now. She would be dead, entirely. I know it.

But she chose to live, for Prim and not for me - and I thought it wouldn't matter but it does. For Prim she only has to be there, has to smile sometimes and talk and hunt and 'provide'. Any shadow can do that. For me she would have had to do much more; and maybe if she had been surviving for me then her return would not have been so hollow.

:

Weeks after, when Before has faded into the far distance and even I am beginning to believe that all she will ever be now is a shell, she comes. Out to the woods, to the field where we had our last day, Before. I am there; but I think she already knew that. She sits down slowly, and answers the question I have not asked. She tells me about the one night on the rooftop, where Peeta promised her that he was choosing to die as a man and nothing less; and she tells me what she told him. "For my sister. I can't afford to think like that." And I nod, because it seems appropriate. She is waiting for more, for understanding or forgiveness, I'm not sure. But I can't give it, so she stand up and slips away, her shadow sliding from tree to tree.

After she leaves, I cry. I cry all the tears that I held back then, to be strong for her. I cry all the tears I would have cried when she came back as only a shadow, if my hope had not persisted in refusing to give up. Now it is gone. She has just told me of the moment of her death, the minute in time where she decided exactly how much Prim was worth. And the answer was her soul, so she gave it and I don't know where that is supposed to leave me but 'damn' I'm gonna try and buy her back. And if I can't, I guess I will have to learn to love a shadow - because that is all that is left. All I have left.

AN - I haven't seen the movie in a while, so apologies if anything is totally contradictory.