Hey guys! I'm back and writing a new story! So I decided to break this into three stories. This one is Prim's POV of The Hunger Games, the next one will be Prim's POV of Catching Fire, the third one Mockingjay. This story will include a bit of book and movie dialogue in the first couple chapters. So I hope you enjoy The Untold Story of Primrose Everdeen: Book 1, and may the odds be ever in your favor!

It's me. It's me. I'm headed to my death.

I let out a short scream as I sit up in my bed. Relief rushes through me when I realize I was dreaming, and my heart beats a bit slower. The light snore of my sister fills my ears, and I turn to look at her. I smile a bit; Katniss always looks better when she sleeps. Smaller, more peaceful, less violent. She doesn't have the look on her face that makes my heart drop.

I look out the window, and see that it's dark outside. I can't go back to sleep myself without having more Reaping nightmares. It's my first year, and Katniss wouldn't let me sign up for tesserae, so my name is only in there once. But I still have a chance.

Katniss will be leaving to hunt in a few hours to feed me and my mother. She might as well have a Reaping gift. I hop out of bed and tiptoe out of the room I share with my family. Next to the television is a small chest that I keep some things in. I kneel down in front of it, open it up, and take out the fresh goat cheese covered in plastic wrap.

I also find a thin red ribbon. I carefully tie it around the cheese, and walk over to the kitchen counter, and carefully place my work on the table. Hopefully this will help Katniss. She never gets these types of things. A warm feeling rises inside me at the thought of a smile on Katniss's face.

Tiredness fills my body and I decide to go back to bed. The heavy breathing of my family fills my ears as I enter the bedroom, and instead of turning right towards the bed I share with Katniss, I turn left towards my mother's bed. She looks better sleeping as well. Awake, she looks disappointed, like she doesn't enjoy life. But who would, everybody in the Seam is starving. Her blonde hair that I inherited lays in wisps on her face, the rest tied back in a braid.

I climb onto the bed and pull the covers over myself, snuggling into my mother for warmth. It isn't long before sleep overcomes me.

….

"Prim, Prim, get up." My blue eyes open and I see my mother. "No," I groan, burying my face in the pillow. "I don't want to get up. I want to stay here where I'm safe." I feel the covers lifted off of me, exposing me to the cold. I don't bother opening my eyes again. Arms snake under my body and I'm lifted up.

I keep my eyes closed and snuggle into my mother's chest as she carries me. My eyes snap open when ice cold water hits my skin. I'm in the bathtub. I let out a sigh and pick up the sick excuse for a soap bar and start scrubbing. Once I'm done, I close my eyes and brace myself for the freezing water. Inhaling, I stick my head under the faucet, wetting my hair and face. Now I'm awake.

Eager to get out of the bath, I turn off the faucet and stand up, shivering. I grab the towel and wrap it around myself. It has holes and it's very thin, but it's a towel. I dry my face and body and hair, and walk out into the bedroom.

A Reaping outfit is laid out on my bed. It's nicer than anything I've ever worn. I didn't even know we had clothes like this. A white collared shirt with buttons at the chest and a long green skirt with small flowers covering it. Eager to get into something that nice, I throw off the towel and grab undergarments from the small drawer next to the bed. I slip them on and grab the shirt, rubbing my hands on the fabric.

I pull it on and then take the skirt, stepping into it. I walk over to the mirror and look at myself. The clothes fit perfectly. My hair lies around my shoulders, waiting to be braided. I smile at myself quickly and turn back to my bed. I grab the socks laid there and slip them on, along with the black shoes.

"Wonderful," says my mother, and I turn around to see her smiling in the doorway. She walks over to my bed and sits down next to me. She takes one side of my hair and starts to braid. We sit there for a few minutes in silence. Finally, the question I've been dying to ask escapes my lips. "What if I get picked?"

"You won't," says my mother quietly. "It's your first year; your name is only in there once."

"But what if I do?" I protest, staring down at my small hands. "Then you'll go into that arena with pride. Now turn so I can braid the other side." I shift on the bed so she can work with the other side. It's silent for a few more minutes, until my mother says "done". I stand up and look in the mirror. My mother has braided my hair into two braids going down the side of my head.

The corners of my mouth turn up slightly for a second, and then I turn around and exit the bedroom. My cat Buttercup is curled up on the sofa, his bony chest rising up and down in ragged breaths. I plop down next to him, taking his skinny frame and resting him on my lap.

"Buttercup?" I ask, stroking his yellow fur. He looks up at me with his bright yellow eyes. "Do you think I'll get picked today?" He purrs against my chest as if saying, "I sure hope not."

A mischievous smile reaches my face and I ask him, "What about Katniss?" Buttercup opens his mouth in a loud hiss, probably saying, "Yes. Let that witch die." Buttercup and Katniss don't have the best relationship. When I brought him home, Katniss tried to drown him. They've hated each other since.

The door opens and Buttercup sprints away into another room. My sister walks through the door and her face lights up at the sight of me. "Oh, you look beautiful!" she kneels down and puts her hands around my waist. "But you better tuck in that tail, little duck." She tucks in the bit of my shirt sticking out in the back, making it look like a duck tail. "Quack," I say, smiling.

Katniss is the only person who can make me smile on a day like this.

"I picked something out for you, too," says my mother. Katniss's face falls as she says, "Ok."

…..

I watch as my mother braids Katniss's hair. Katniss wears a light blue dress. My mother secures the last pin on Katniss's hairstyle. A pretty braided bun. "There. Now you look beautiful, too."

"I wish I looked like you," I say quietly, looking down at my shoes. "Oh no," she says sympathetically. "I wish I looked like you, little duck."

A whistle blows outside, probably signaling that it's time for the Reaping. "Hey," says Katniss, looking at me. "It's ok. Let's go."

I take Katniss's hand and we exit the house. Walking through the Seam, I see families, parents with worried faces and children with nothing on their faces but fear. That's probably how I look now.

I wish the stupid rebellion never happened. I wish the rebels had some sense and realized that if they lost, a punishment would come for them. And look at us now. Walking into the town square to watch two poor kids get sentenced to death.

I just wish we could all go to sleep happily at night.

I look up and immediately stop in my tracks. We're here. We're at the reaping. I start to hyperventilate, and Katniss pulls me to the side. "Shhh, shhh it's ok," she reassures me. "They're only going to take a little bit of blood. Doesn't hurt much. Just a little," I can barely hear her over my heavy breathing, but I nod.

She takes me into the line, and soon enough, a Capitol person is taking my finger. She sticks a sharp piece of metal into my finger and I wince a little bit. "Thank you."

I walk away and stand in the section marked for 12 year olds. After a few minutes, a high pitched voice fills the square. "Welcome, welcome welcome." I look up to see a woman that looks like a rainbow puked on her. Effie, I think she's called.

"The time has come to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing District 12 in the 74th annual Hunger Games."

Why is she so cheery, people are going to die, for God sakes! "As usual, ladies first." My legs go weak immediately and my eyes widen in fear. Effie walks over to the glass bowl on the right, filled with the names of poor, poor girls. Including me. She sticks her hand into the bowl and takes out a white slip of paper, holding it up for all to see. I really wish I stayed in bed this morning.

She walks over to the microphone and unfolds the slip of paper. And then she reads the name of the poor unfortunate girl who's life is being cut way too short. Who will never get married, never start a family.

"Primrose Everdeen."

A/N: Hey! Sorry for being so late. School is starting tomorrow and I'll be VERY busy. Updates will be slow, but I'll try my hardest to update as much as I can. So tell me what you think of this chapter! Thanks, and I hope you enjoy!