I wake up early this morning sweating, with tears streaming down my face. I look outside, hoping for the promise of daylight that the sun brings, only to be disappointed to see darkness flood our tiny house. I jump a little, careful not to wake Katniss, when I hear the howling of wolves in the forest. Those things have always scared me, even when I was little. I don't even know why, but their howls and screams in the night make my skin crawl with fear. On the other hand, they really are beautiful creatures.
I get out of bed carefully, and Katniss turns on her side in her sleep, whispering something about our late father. She's been doing that a lot, lately, and it makes me upset because the more I hear him mentioned, the more I wish he was still around. But this time I don't let it bother me because I don't have much time and I need to stick to the task at hand. In one motion, I swiftly pull on my father's old hunting jacket that Katniss always wears and pull on Katniss' hunting boots.
Of course, I won't be doing any hunting. First of all, it's probably three o'clock in the morning and it's too dark to see anything further than my outstretched arm. And second, even if it was daytime I couldn't go hunting because I was never taught how to. My father died before he had the chance. In the last few weeks of his death, he would tell me that he would teach me everything he knows. Everything he'd already taught Katniss.
After I had gotten over my father's death, I realized that he'd never taught me how to hunt like he'd promised. Of course, I wasn't blaming him for that. I mean, no one asks to be blown to bits in a mine explosion.
But still, something was off. And then it hit me.
I realized that my father had taught Katniss and not me. For a while after that realization, I was jealous of Katniss. All those endless days she got to spend with our father in the serenity of the woods, all those endless conversations and laughs and memories created in that very forest that I was, and never would be, a part of. It was all too much.
I knew from that point on that I would never want to learn to hunt from anyone other than my father. Katniss offered endless times to teach me but I always denied. I would make up countless excuses.
"I feel sick."
"I don't even like the woods."
"I can't kill an animal!"
Thankfully, no one ever found out why I never wanted to hunt. I think if they did, it'd make me even more upset.
Soon after, I made another realization. I was old enough that I was expected to do something that contributed to my family. So that's when I decided to learn medicine from my mother. It wasn't so bad. I really do like helping people. But something inside me always yearns for the forest.
Now, as I'm outside, rubbing my hands together for warmth, I feel drained and empty. Drained of my energy. Empty of my soul. I feel like I'm not actually outside of my house in District 12, but someplace else. Someplace where everyone is free and happy. But my fantasy is soon cut short by the unmistakable sound of a wolf's howl. A shiver creeps up my spine.
Once again, I've managed to get off topic by thinking about all that could've been instead of what is. I sit down on the creaky wooden front steps of our house and stop rubbing my hands. I look up at the sky and close my eyes. Alright Prim, I think to myself, Focus. You've got one chance here. You won't get another. I begin.
"God?" I start with a shaky voice. I clear my throat. "God," more authoritative and louder this time, but still making sure I don't wake Katniss or my mother. "I pray to you every night. I always thank you for what you've given me, even though I live here." With my eyes closed, I open my arms, motioning to where here is, as in District 12, hoping He can see me. "But please, just this one time, I ask a favor of you. Just this one time, I promise." I pause and take in a shaky breath. "Tomorrow is the reaping. Katniss and Gale's names have been placed into the reaping bowl too many times to remember. Please, God, if You can hear me, please don't let them be picked tomorrow. I don't know what I'd do if I had to watch them-" my voice breaks at the last bit, but I continue. "Die. I need them. I love them. They've done so much for me and I've done so little in return. So please, don't pick them." A tear rolls down my cheek. "Pick me."
I go back inside and carefully get back into bed, hoping to get at least a few hours of sleep before the real horror begins.
AN: hah! You thought I'd never be back on here! Well I am and I'm super happy about that! :) I am sooo sorry I haven't uploaded anything on here for about a year, but it's just that I've been super busy this year with school and a lot of family stuff going on, but I am free now!
Actually, that's a lie. I still have one more exam to do, then I'm home free! My exam is tomorrow, so after that, I'll be 100% free for two months to upload chapters for my new story!
Speaking of which, I'm sorry I kind of stopped writing Fate of the Games. Like I said, I got really busy. But, if you guys want me to finish it, let me know!
So, yeah, I really hope you enjoy this! I'm suuupeeer excited to be back on here and writing again; I've missed it so much!
If you liked this chapter, please leave me a review letting me know. Also, if you didn't, leave me a review anyways because this is for you as a kind of 'I'm sorry' offering, and I want you to like it :)
Anyways, I hope you all have a fabulous summer vacation and I hope to hear from you soon!
~hungergames98
P.S. If you got this far, God bless you for wasting a good five minutes just on reading the author's note. You really are a kind soul. :) okay now I'm done :).
