My name is Primrose Everdeen, and this is my story. I died a year ago in a tragic bombing accident. Yes, you read that right. Since I'm, well, dead, I thought I might as well share my story. Who knows, maybe one day this will actually reach my family, and they will finally understand where I came from. Either way, enjoy the story.
I was at home with my mom waiting for my older sister to come home when I got a call that I was needed near the President's mansion for nursing duties. When I got there, I was rushingly told by a group of tense and almost secretive guards that a Capitol helicopter had come into the sky and dropped parachute bombs on the children in the barricade in front of the mansion, and that I was needed to tend to the wounded. They all had the same grave expression on their face, so I suppose I should've seem a tragedy coming. Anyhow, when I get there, I began throwing empty bombs here, bandaging a limb there, and assuring everyone everything was okay, even though I barely had any clue as to what was going on myself. I was doing my best to make sure everyone was as okay as possible when the unthinkable happened: the bombs detonated a second time. Everything immediately froze in my mind, and I don't remember much. However, there are a few details that will forever be engrained into my soul (if I even have one anymore). In that moment of time, I took one last look at my surroundings before I was burned to ashes. The last thing I ever saw I will never forget. My sister who was supposedly away on a mission came out of what seems like nowhere. I screeched out to her, but it was too late by the time she heard me. I was blown to shreds before she could run over. Oh, Katniss— she tried with every ounce of her entire being to save me, and I will never forget the look on her face while I became a human piece of firewood. Of course it was painful, but I died with an odd sense of peace. Why? Because I was, in my opinion, the reason my sister suffered so deeply. Now that I'm gone, I'm one less thing she has to worry about; I just hope she can live in peace without me. While I was alive, she was constantly worried about my safety. But I'm not leaving her totally alone on earth, oh no. I've figured out how to walk around Panem as a ghost. I can see and interact with everyone, but no one can hear or sense me. I've done it a few times, and the pain I felt was devastating. Seeing my old home, Katniss walking around losing her mind over me being gone, and my mother withdrawing again makes me wonder if I really should feel at peace about all of this. But what else am I supposed to feel? I don't even know anymore.