Katniss:

"Primrose Everdeen."

There must have been some mistake. This can't be happening. Prim was one slip of paper in thousands! Her chances of being chosen so remote that I'd not even bothered to worry about her. Hadn't I done everything? Taken the tesserae, refused to let her do the same? One slip. One slip in thousands. The odds had been entirely in her favor. But it hadn't mattered. Just like Peeta.

Somewhere far away, I can hear the crowd murmuring unhappily as they always do when a twelve-year-old gets chosen because no one thinks this is fair. And then I see her, the blood drained from her face, hands clenched in fists at her sides, walking with stiff, small steps up toward the stage, passing me, and I see the back of her blouse has become untucked and hangs out over her skirt. It's this detail, the untucked blouse forming a ducktail, that brings me back to myself.

"Prim," my scream echoes off the sympathetic faces surrounding the square. I feel his eyes on me but I don't stop. "Prim," I push through the crowd and into the aisle.

Prim has just reached the stairs. Two peacekeepers take my arms to hold me back, they assume I would try to stop her. People have tried in the past, usually it's the parents. A fight makes for a good show, so they don't hold too hard. I'm easily able to pull away but I know the only way to keep her safe, and it isn't trying to fight.

"I volunteer!" I screech. "I volunteer!" From the corner of my eye I can see Peeta jump from his seat but I know Haymitch will stop him from doing anything stupid. Right now, all I'm focused on is getting Prim away from the stage. "I volunteer as tribute." My voice is loud and devoid of fear. I don't care what happens to me, I won't let Prim suffer the atrocities Peeta went thru.

I'm by Prim's side in a moment, putting my body in between my baby sister and the stage. Between her and a certain death. "Prim, go find Mom."

"No," she cries, latching herself onto me.

"Prim, go find Mom, it's going to be okay, go find Mom." I repeat. She needs to go. I need her away from here.

Her arms are ripped from my waist. I look up, expecting to see the mask of a peacekeeper but instead find my gorgeous blue eyes. "Up you go, Katniss." The resignation in his voice is haunting.

I nod once. I hear Prim crying and begging me not to but I know she's safe with Peeta. The peacekeepers will trust a victor to keep from interfering with the ceremony. I stop the tremors threatening to shake my body and climb the stairs.

Effie Trinket is hardly containing her excitement. Having a victor last year and now a volunteer. She asks me for my name although she already knows it. Everyone knows my name, I'm the girl Peeta Mellark fought so hard to get home to. This has the Capital's thumbprints all over it. Prim had stolen everyone's heart during the Friends and Family interviews last year. I doubt they imagined I would volunteer, but they weren't going to complain.

Effie continues to exclaim how excited she is to have District 12's first volunteer. My eyes find Peeta and Prim still standing at the bottom of the stage, although he has moved them back and off to the right. Prim is quietly crying into his shirt while Peeta whispers to her. I can only imagine what he is saying.

When she asks for a round of applause, not one person claps. But slowly, everyone brings their right hands to their mouths and kisses three fingers before raising them in the air. It's a gesture we use at funeral or when you're sending off something precious. It's strange how different my life has been ever since Peeta's Interview before his own games. And volunteering for Prim seemed to only reaffirm that bond. I wasn't just someone who was tolerated by my family, I was something to my district now. Something more than just a tribute.

If I die, I know Peeta will protect my family. His Victor Compensation is more than enough to provide for them and Gale will bring them game from the woods. At the thought of my best friend I search the crowds for him. It doesn't take long before I find him. He has moved to the edge of the aisle and is staring intently at me. He gives me a nod.

It's a signal. We've had a pact ever since we were kids that if one of us was ever called, we would take care of the others family. We would make sure they knew were to go to say goodbye, be there to support each other thru the games. . . and if we didn't make it home, to make sure they didn't starve.

I see movement on the stage and realize the boy has already been chosen. I had missed his name. He's small, probably the same age as Prim. And he's already crying. Effie tells us to shake hands and he wipes his nose before reaching out. I barely hesitate to shake his snot-covered hand, he's just scared, I remind myself. I can't help but wonder if he had any brothers who had been eligible to volunteer for. But then, what I did was an abnormality. Family ties only went so far on reaping day.

I could see Peeta mouthing words to me but was too far away too hear or see them. But it still helped comfort me because I knew he would be there throughout this mess.

Then we're being ushered towards the doors of the Justice Building. I'm led into a room with a similar design as Peeta's drawing room. I want nothing more than to be in the safety of his arms right now but I push those thoughts away and find my inner huntress. I'm going to need her if I plan on getting back to my family.

The doors open and my mother and sister rush in. I take them both in a hug. "Im okay. Im fine." I reassure them and myself.

I pull back and then kneel down in front of Prim. "Don't take anything from them, Prim. It's not worth putting your name in more times. Sell the cheese from your goat. Gale will still bring you meat. And Peeta will take care of anything else, okay?"

"You can hunt." Her voice is scratchy from her earlier tears.

"Yeah." I whisper.

"You could win. Like Peeta." I nod my head and wrap her in a hug. I look up at my mother and then detangled myself from Prim

. "You can't check out again. Not like when dad died. You're all she has left. You have to be there for her. Do you understand."

"Yes," my mother whispered.

"Don't cry." I demand. I hug her just as the doors open again.

"No," Prim sobs and tries to grab me but she's pulled out the door with my mother. It slams shut, leaving me in silence.

Not two seconds later, Gale appears. He wraps his arms around me immediately. "You can win this, Catnip."

"I don't know how." I mumble into his shoulder.

"Mellark will show you. You get to a bow—"

"They might not have a bow," I interrupt.

"They will if you show them how good you are. They just want a good show, that's all. You'll already be a Capital favorite." He shook me a little. "You can win this. You know how to hunt."

"Animals."

"It's no different, Katniss."

"Yes it is," I argue, thinking about Peeta's nightmares, his flashbacks, his regrets. "They think. They breathe. They move. They have families of their own. There's twenty four of us, Gale, and only one comes out."

"Yeah, and it's gonna be you."

The door opens and the peacekeepers try to pull him out like they did my family. But unlike Prim he's able to give me one last hug before another peacekeepers comes and they both drag him out. "Hey, I'll see you soon." He says as the door closes.

I wait a few more minutes, thinking that my visitors are done. Peeta is the only other person I really care about and the mentors are waiting at the train station. It's the first year District 12 will ever have more than one.

So the next time the door opens, I'm surprised to say the least to see Mr Mellark. We still trade squirrels but other than that, I have no real connection to him. Peeta's witch of a mother basically threw a party when his name was called. When he returned that first night, she had attempted to raise her hand against him in anger. Well, let's just say Peeta made clear she would never touch him again. Although Peeta saw his family in passing, they've never been the same.

"Katniss."

"Mr. Mellark."

"I wanted to thank you," my head snapped up. That was certainly not what I was expecting. "When Peeta came home from the games, he had an altercation with my wife. I'm ashamed to say I let her keep me from my own son when he needed us most but I did. You were there for him. He loves you."

I looked away at that admission. Peeta and I, while we have gotten close, have yet to use that word. Actually, Peeta hasn't used it since his first interview. There were plenty of times when he hinted at it, but he knew not to push me.

"I would also offer to keep an eye on the girl." That startled me. "But between Hawthorne and my son, I doubt she will want for much. Nevertheless, I'm going to ask you to come home."

"Why?"

"Peeta's been through enough, even before the games," he got that look of shame again. "He deserves to find happiness." With that he turned and left, he didn't even wait until the peacekeepers came.

As I waited for anyone else to come, I noticed a bag on the table next to where he was standing. It had the bakery logo on it. I looked inside and found around a dozen freshly baked sugar cookies. They were my favorite because each cookie had a different design on them, usually done by my favorite Mellark. I couldn't help but get a little tight throated when I fully took in the baker's actions. These cookies sold for a pretty penny in the bakery, for him to give me a dozen, well, let's just hope the witch doesn't find out.

My next visitor was also unexpected. Madge Undersee, the mayors daughter, and I had been sitting at the same lunch table for a few years. Yet we rarely partook in any vivid conversations that are necessary for a strong friendship.

"Hello Madge." I say politely.

"Katniss, I have a favor to ask of you."

I raise an eyebrow. I'm going into the hunger games and she has a favor. She holds out her hand.

"It was my aunts." In her hand is a small golden pin. It has a circular band around the outside and a strange bird in the center. It was delicate without being fragile. And in the beak of the bird was an arrow. I noticed then that the bird was a Mockingjay. They were song birds but the stories behind them was what was remarkable. During the dark days, the Capital created Jabberjays to copy plans from the rebels and they were able to report back with the information. When the rebels began to feed false information through the Jabberjays, the Capital quit keeping them, sending them out to die off, since there was no way for them to reproduce. That was when the birds did something unexpected. The male Jabberjays mated with Mocking birds, creating a new species, the Mockingjay.

"Would you wear it? As your token in the games, I mean." She rambled.

I smiled for the first time that day, it wasn't a full smile, those were reserved for Prim and occasionally Peeta, but it was the best I could have hoped for. I was taken back by the fact she wanted me to wear something with family value. Usually, children from poorer districts, were given a token from their stylist. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but, it was nice to have something from home.

I knew our time was running out so I gave Madge an awkward hug and then she was gone. The next time the doors opened it was time to leave. The ride to the train station was short but extremely painful. The boy tribute was crying big heavy sobs and over the top of him, Effie was trying to explain all the perks of this opportunity.

"Well, I have to say, it's quite a pleasure to finally meet you, Katniss. Everyone will be so jealous. They're still raving about the story of 'your boy with the bread.'" She says, referring to the interview last year.

I was being stubborn and was upset that they had come into our little house in the Seam and were forcing me to do an interview about a boy that apparently loved me. They had asked how I knew Peeta when Prim jumped in and stole the show. She started running her mouth about how I hated going into town but never complained about stopping by the bakery to look at the cakes, and how I was never actually looking at the pastries. I had no idea she was so observant. I thought it couldn't get any worse when Prim mentioned not being able to sleep. I nearly slapped my hand over her mouth. She then proceeded in telling all of Panem that when I was too tired to sing her back to sleep, I'd tell her stories about Dad or other things. Including the story of the boy with the bread, which she had cleverly figured out was about the baker that 'was always staring at me.'

That was when all hell had broken loose in the Capital. The sponsors ate up the story and the way I told it to my baby sister like a fairytale. Peeta became the most popular victor since Finnick Odair, instead of being a dashing boy with a playboy smile, he was the boy next door who was doing everything he could to get back to the girl he took a beating for all those years ago.

Peeta never killed an ally. Never took a cheap shot. But also never stepped down from a challenge. In the end he killed Beorn, it wasn't quick or easy, and I knew the terror that had stemmed from it, but it was true. Peeta had defeated all odds to return home. To return to me. A girl he didn't even know and one who didn't know him.

I ignore Effie's comment but she seems content to continue as if I hadn't. People are waiting at the station but it's more orderly than in many districts. The only real fever is from the Capital staff. Sometimes I wonder if they gave a small payment to those who actually come to see the tributes off, there only ever seemed to be enough to hide the fact that no one really came.

But that's fine with me. We take a few shots waving goodbye to the District people and then are led into a parlor filled with more sweets and drinks than we could ever eat. The boy next to me lights up when we pass a pastry cart. He's a little chubbier, I notice, than any normal kid from District twelve. He family must have money. He grabs a silver plate and starts piling these white circles with holes in the middle. When he has about six or seven he comes and sits down in a plush chair across from me. He digs in and about halfway thru his first one, his face and hands are covered with the white powder and he has a red jelly on his chin. I have to look away. He was just crying over the fact he is being sent to the Hunger Games and now he's stuffing his face like he doesn't have a care in the world.

"Want some?" Crumbs fly out of his mouth as he asks.

I glare at the little merchant boy and he visibly shrinks back from me. I'm not trying to be mean. Im just letting him know that if he continues, I'm not going to even attempt to be civil. A whoosh comes from behind me and footsteps break my glare.

"Mr. Mellark!" More crumbs fly from his mouth and the only reason I don't go over there is because it registers whose name he called.

I turn around and see Peeta and Hamitch standing behind us. "Peeta," I breathe. His eyes cut to mine before returning to the boy.

"Tommy." Peeta acknowledges. "This is Hamitch. Hamitch, this is Tommy Fieldsworth and you know Katniss." He whispers the last part as if he was dreading it.

Hamitch looks down at the boy and scowls, I have to admit, his is scarier at the moment. He walks over to the refreshment table and grabs the expensive looking whiskey. Instead of pouring it into one of the crystal glasses, he just takes the entire bottle and plops down on the sofa next to Tommy. Peeta sits on the arm of my chair.

Before Hamitch takes a drink he offered some to Peeta. "Really, Hamitch?"

Hamitch shrugs off the look Peeta throws at him and takes a long drink. "What about you, Sweetheart?"

I remember the first and last time I made the mistake of accepting whiskey from Haymitch. I swear the burn in my throat stayed for hours and Peeta was pissed. Not once since the first time I caught him drunk had he touched anything more than a tart lemonade again. So I decline it, even if I felt like I could use a drink. The fierce glare that passes over Peeta's face made me glad I made the right choice.

"If you're not going to contribute any positive input to this conversation, go drink in your room."

"Careful, boy. Or I might do just that." Haymitch threatens, even slurred it still sounds serious. Haymitch takes no more than three more gulps and he's puking all over Tommy's shoes. The smell is terrible but the strange wail that comes from Tommy is worse. I mean seriously, is the kid twelve or two?

"Katniss, how bout you go to your room. It's the third door on the right. I'll take care of Hamitch and Tommy."

I nod, happy for the escape. The room is dark, even though I know there's still light left in the day. I go to the window and turn down the tint, allowing natural light into the room. The room isn't that spacious, considering we're on a train, but still the biggest room I've ever been given to sleep in. A bed with a black comforter and white pillows is in the middle with a mirror on the left side and a vanity to the right. A small closet lines the opposite wall. Suddenly feeling tired, I decide to try a nap.

In the closet I find a royal blue long sleeve and a pair of black leggings. The leggings are made of a stretchy material that feels almost plasticey to the touch but is very flexible and the shirt is so soft, like the inside of a brand new sweatshirt. I let my hair out of the bun my mother pleated and climbed onto of the bed. It's like a cloud and I easily fall asleep.

The next time I wake the natural light has almost disappeared. I sit up and brush my hair with the comb from the vanity.

"You're awake."

I look up and see Peeta leaning against my doorframe. I manage to find a smile for him. He takes that as it is, an invitation, and comes in. I'm currently doing nothing but staring at the wall so Peeta grabs a remote from the vanity. I didn't know what it controlled but he starts pressing buttons and a television lowers down from the ceiling. "Do you want to watch the recaps?"

I shrug but by now, Peeta's used to my no answer responses. He flips it on and Ceaser Flickerman's botoxed face fills the screen. "Good Evening Panem! Tonight is the night you've been waiting for for the past year. The chance to see this years tributes!" His voice speeds up and slows down and becomes high pitched and then drops again many times before he finishes three simple sentences.

"As always, we'll start with District 1 and work our way up." The screen cuts to a square very different from our own. Although most Hunger Game features are shown in the districts, the reapings are not. The first time the districts see the tributes are during the Tribute Parade. I can see why when I watch the differences between the ceremonies.

"It's insane, isn't it?" Peeta say as he leans his forehead on my shoulder. He's sitting on my right but further back than me. Our legs are pressed so close if we were any closer I would be sitting on his lap.

I watch them introduce a girl named Glimmer and her partner Marvel. Their escort introduces them as the districts 'champion tributes.' There was no bowls, no chance, no name calling. They've been training for this their whole life. "These guys will be tough. But if you can get them away from the food and supplies, that's your best shot."

"How do I do that?" I watch as the other half of the Career pack similarly are chosen. Cato and Clove.

"You're gonna have to use your surroundings. One year, a girl from six set fire to their stash. Given, they hunted her down and killed her for it, someone from nine won that year. Another year the victor destroyed a dam and washed away the food. Someone even caused an avalanche during the 52nd."

We watch the rest in a similar fashion. Peeta points out which ones are most dangerous and which will be most vulnerable. He warns me to watch out for the pairs from three and five, technology and energy, because they will most likely be the keenest and could be very deadly if given the chance to set both physical and psychological traps. He notices flaws in some of the tributes 'strategies' like the girl from seven who tries to play the damsel in distress card but has most likely been swinging an axe for at least the past six years.

He also suggests to stay away from tributes under the age of fourteen. "They're an easy kill, yes, but it won't gain you much popularity. But if you show them mercy it could lose you the statistics so it better to just avoid them. This includes the boys from 4 and 9 and the girls from 10 and 11. And of course Tommy, but you never want to kill your district partner. When you get home, it'll only hurt you when you have to face everyone."

"When?" He didn't say if I get home, he said when.

He looks at me as if I'm crazy. "I'm getting you home, Katniss."

My response was interrupted by Ceaser. "And boy do I have a surprise for you. Wait until you see what happened in District 12 this afternoon."

I watch as Peeta and Haymitch take their places by Mayor Undersee. Haymitch is already drunk enough to be stumbling around but Peeta makes sure he stays somewhat upright, saving him from a particularly close call with the edge of the stage. They skip the video and now Effie is beginning the drawing. I watch her hand and can't help but feel anger and the way it flitters around before picking the only one in the bowl that say Primrose EVERDEEN ON IT!

She reads her name and instead of the silence that was being undertook during the reaping, Ceaser says, "That's right folks! Our favorite little sister of the infamous love of Peeta Mellark. But watch what happens next." He whispers before they cut back to the film.

I can see me physically snap into action. "Prim!" I sound even more desperate than I thought I did. The camera zooms in on Peeta and he looks just as devastated as I felt in that moment. The picture is back on me as I struggle against the peacekeepers before finally shouting, "I volunteer!"

Peeta jumped out of his seat like he wanted to stop me but Haymitch had sobered up enough from hearing Prim's name to hold him back with a hand on his shoulder. Prim grew on everyone and Haymitch was no exception. The first time Prim had come with me to see Peeta she had picked some wildflowers from the meadow. She had given them to Haymitch as we passed him on his front porch.

When I reached the stage my argument with Prim was clear with the high tech Capital microphones. ". . . It's going to be okay, go find Mom."

Peeta ripped his shoulder free of Haymitch's grip and jumped down from the front of the stage. They zoomed in on him pulling her away from me and caught the few words he said. "Up you go, Katniss." The tears in his eyes were visible as he lifted Prim with an arm around her waist and walked her away from the fray. I watched as he struggled with Prim before she finally gave into the sobs and he mumbled soft words to her. Thankfully, the microphones couldn't pick up that.

Tommy Fieldsworth's name was called and they showed Effie call him and him start to walk up to the stage but then the cameras cut back to Peeta who was now looking directly at me. Now, with the rest of the country, I could read what he was saying.

"You'll be okay."

"We'll be fine."

"I'll find a way to keep you safe."

And other things just as endearing.

Caesar's voice cut into the video. And he narrated a bit, oohing and ahhing. Then they were back at the studio. "There you have it folks, were up for another exciting year with the Star-Crossed lovers from District 12. This is Caesar Flickerman. Good Night Panem!"

The screen freezes on a picture of all the tributes. Peeta turns off the television but before he can leave I curl up and tuck myself into his side. His arms come around me like a shield. "I'm scared Peeta."

"I know Katniss. I am too."