Prim's hand was warm, as we sleep cozily under the heavy canvass blanket. Her blonde hair glistens in the moonlight shining through the small window of our one room house. the ugly dirty cat butter cup purrs tenderly against her pale face as prims eyes flutter open at the meet of our hands. Across the room a small cot like bed is occupied with my mother and father who are curled up in each others arms. My father's strong hands against my mothers delicate back make me wonder if tow people could be more in love.
" Katniss?" Prim whispered turning to face me with her big blue eyes.
"go back to sleep prim" I said sweetly brushing the blonde hair from her cute little face.
" do you think daddy will take us swimming tomorrow?" Prim asked closing her heavy eyes.
" I hope so Prim" I smiled as prim fell back into sleep but couldn't seem to fall asleep myself.
Even if she was only 8 and I was 12, she was still the closest thing I had to a friend, and I loved her to death for that. Her name suited her perfectly because she actually was as delicate as the primrose flowers that blossoms in the woods of district twelve, with her fragile frame probably not even weighing 45 pounds. My name however means a whole different thing. Katniss: a root of a plant that grows in muddy or very wet lands. Not exactly the definition of beauty, but as long as it can feed my family it's the best name in the world. My father named me that after he discovered the root, illegally hunting in the woods of our district, and made a wonderful meal of them for him and my mother. My Father works in the coal mines witch demands the majority of all his days. The only day we really get to see him is Sundays. Witch is why I guess I cant sleep tonight, thinking of the day we'll have tomorrow. Swimming in the lake deep in the woods, I think of the songs my father will sing as we venture closer to the little lake, and the relief of the cold water washing the sweat off of my body and relaxing my tense muscles. I think of the small fire Father will light when it's late afternoon, in the old cement shack beside the lake. The supper my mother will prepare from the game my father brings home. The lull of sleep from a long day and a full stomach, the thought makes my eyes heavy and the next thing I know I'm asleep.