Reaping day...
Breathe...
Ba-bump...
In and out...
Katniss' hand runs down my arm, her calloused hands scraping down the ginger skin. My arm still raised, searching for her hand still as the Peacekeeper escorts me to the roped off area. My shoulder bumps into a twelve year old girl, such as myself, and I stumble slightly.
Breathe...
Ba-bump...
In and out...
Effie Trinket walks up onto the stage, tapping her pink gloved hand against the microphone.
Thu-thump...
In
And
Out...
"It's your first year Prim, your name has only been in there once.
They're not going to pick you."
If only...
If only I didn't have a feelings of despair, a feeling of unease, I would agree with her.
But why don't I?
I try to remember Lady's rough tongue trailing a path down my cheek, her course fur tickling my fingers when Katniss had brought her home for the first time...
And Buttercup. His warmth leeching into my chest as I had cuddled next to him, just this morning.
Could it have been just this morning?
It feels like lifetimes ago that Katniss came back, calling me her little duck, tucking in my too big shirt for my little chest.
Ba-bump...
In and out...
I remember dragging Katniss over to the bakery, looking at the beautiful cakes on display that we'd never be able to afford.
Breathe...
Remember the sweet aromas that would fill my nose when Peeta would open the door, burnt loafs of bread in his hands to feed the pigs and I'd call out to him sweetly, "Peeta, what's the special for today?"
Ba-bump...
He laugh and call out, "Raisin bread and a new cake Prim! Primrose flowers just for you!"
In and out...
And then Peeta's father would come out, slapping a hand on his son's shoulder, pride lighting up his pale blue eyes, chuckling lightly as he would address Katniss and I, sending his son back in to help his mother.
Breathe...
And then he'd give me a bag stuffed with the finest bread they had, and cookies of course, and I would skip back to the house, a bright smile on my face, Katniss laughing behind me.
Ba-bump...
And I remember whenever I'd look behind my shoulder, I would see Peeta's azure eyes watching Katniss and I wlak home, a small smile lighting up his face, even when his mother would come out, screaming and cursing at him, hitting him hard across the fce, either with her hand,
Or maybe her rolling pin.
In and out...
But that smile would never leave Peeta's face, no matter what his mother did to him.
Breathe...
I clench my eyes shut as Effie squeaks into the microphone, "Ladies first!"
Ba-
Bump...
I try to hold onto these happy memories as Effie grabs a slip of paper, slowly unraveling it.
In
And
Out...
Gasping slightly as she reads...
Breathe...
"Primrose Everdeen!"
Silence...
A/N: Thanks so much for reading this story!
Disclaimer: I do not profit, own, or hate the Hunger Games. Only Suzanne Collins can do that.
Please Review, only takes a few seconds!