I pray it won't happen. Hope it won't. Plead it won't.
My efforts remain unworthy, as the sword clashes with my sister's back. It seemed, in that one moment, all air was sucked out of my lungs. Forever gone, any chances of re-gaining the air were worthless, and pitiful.
I didn't seem to feel my mother, or even Gale next to me, and the camera moved onto district 12's other tribute. None other than Peeta Mellark.
My sister's ally. He left her. Now she's gone. Forever.
I didn't seem to decipher the cannon that marked the fallen tribute- my sister, as all chaos erupted in that split second.
My mother let out a startled cry, and gasped for air. Gale, the very essence I'd never seen cry before, looked as if it was his back the sword had collided with. His face shriveled up, as if in a physical pain, and his eyes began to water. Me? I sat there, looking and observing, taking nothing in. Everything felt raw, and unreal as I looked around. It was all fake, right?
In a simple matter of time, Katniss would walk in the door, displaying today's kill. I assured myself with this. Knowing, deep inside me, I could never change what I just saw. No one could.
It seemed as if the town shifted, acknowledging the death of my sister. The baker was over quickly enough. Mr. Mellark. He brought treats, although whatever I ate seemed to make no end apparent to the raw feeling inside of me.
Hours later, Peeta returned to the cave Katniss and he had taken refuge in. Only to find the blood and I watched him break down crying. He sobbed until I drifted off to sleep.
When I awoke, Peeta was claiming the life of the murderer of my sister. He loomed over the taller guy, who was on the ground. The sword which ended Katniss gleamed in Peeta's hand as he thrust it down, a loud grunt, and cannon signaled the death of Cato. The killer of my only sibling.
Over the course of the next few weeks, Peeta fought his way to victory. My mother and Gale cheered every time he killed another. I thought it was sick.
When he came home, the first face he saw was mine, and I didn't regret the words I spat at him.
"It's your fault she's dead."
A/N: And that concludes a very dramatic intro to my story.
It's told in Prim's P.O.V, if you couldn't tell.
Hope you enjoyed, reviews are welcome, next chapter will be up soon.