Author's Note: Hey peeps! I'm on a Fanfiction high, so here's yet another story! :) This is Prim's POV of the Reaping and when she says goodbye to Katniss and all that jazz. It's a one-shot. Hope you like it :) And please review! I know sometimes you don't know what to say, but if you don't, just imagine how happy they'll make me. Even a simple review like, "I liked it." makes my day.
…Yeah, I know. I sound desperate.
Disclaimer: There are a lot of conversations and stuff straight from the Hunger Games book, and I do not own any of it!
-MJ888
Needle in a haystack. Needle in a haystack. My name is in there once. It's one out of thousands. Picking it would be like picking a needle out of a haystack. The odds are completely in my favor. That's what I keep telling myself; that's what everyone said to me.
I don't even know why I am so nervous. My name is only in there once. Sometimes, when Katniss didn't catch much game and my stomach was so empty it hurt, I was tempted to take a tessera. But Katniss didn't let me. Speaking of Katniss, she's the one I should be worried about. She has her name in there… how many times? Twenty? How would I live without my lovely sister, who always protects me, if she gets reaped? And her hunting friend, Gale has his name in forty-two times. Compared to them, I have nothing to worry about!
Regardless, I worry anyway. One time is all that it takes. Last year, there was a twelve year old boy from District Nine who only had his name in once. And he got reaped. He didn't make it pass the bloodbath. His death, and everyone else's for that matter, was so gruesome that I threw up for fifteen minutes straight and I still have nightmares about it.
If I got reaped, would I make it passed the bloodbath? Oh, who am I kidding? I would last two seconds before the experienced Careers took me out. The only thing I know how to do is heal.
The twelve year olds, like me, are in the very back of the Square. I stand with the other twelve year olds, everyone as nervous as me, and play with my fingers fretfully.
"Prim," someone whispers to me.
I turn and see who it was. My friend, Catri, from the Seam as well, has come up to me, smiling faintly. She has her name in five times. Five! If I had five, I would be absolutely petrified! Even more than I am now, and that's a lot.
"Hey Catri," I say.
She takes my hand, sensing my edginess, and softly says, "We'll be okay."
I nod. There's nothing else to say, really. It's hard to start a conversation on Reaping Day, even for Catri, who's usually really talkative. Mayor Undersee starts to speak. He reads a 'list' of past District Twelve victors, if you can even call two people a list. The deceased Vamos Yule and the drunken, yet alive, Haymitch Abernathy. Then Haymitch totters onto the stage. He is extremely drunk. I feel bad for him. He just lives out of a bottle. He collapses into the last empty chair, next to the cheerful District Twelve escort, Effie Trinket, engulfing her in a big bear hug. The mayor introduces Effie, and she hops up.
"Happy Hunger Games!" she says enthusiastically, like she does every year, her distractingly bright pink hair bouncing. "And may the odds be ever in your favor."
Effie talks about the honor and blah blah blah. I'm not really listening. I'm too frightened. I can't think straight. I am indistinctly aware of Catri squeezing my hand as Effie Trinket says, "Ladies first!" She skips over to the glass ball holding all the names of the girls ages twelve to eighteen in District Twelve, including Primrose Everdeen. And Katniss Everdeen.
It is absolutely silent. Absolutely. Everyone in the District are holding their breaths, I'm sure. I certainly am. I feel like I could just faint.
Not me. Not Katniss. Not me. Not Katniss. Not me. Please.
Effie pulls out a slip after digging and digging and crosses over to the podium. She clears her throat and reads, "Primrose Everdeen."
Catri gasps quietly, horrified.
Primrose Everdeen? Did she just say Primrose Everdeen? That's my name. That's my name. That is my name!
I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe.
Move, Prim, I tell myself. I force myself to take a step. Then another. Just put one foot in front of another. Don't focus on anything but the ground. My steps are stiff and forced and my fists are clenched together. My hands are sweaty. My face is pale as a ghost I'm sure. I was a needle in a haystack, I think, but it didn't matter.
I can feel the edge of my blouse become un-tucked, but I can't seem to tuck it back in.
"Prim!" I hear someone behind me scream. "Prim!"
Who else would it be but Katniss? She runs up to the stage, just as I'm about to mount the steps – would I even be able to climb them? – and she pushes me behind her with one swift motion.
"I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"
What? What? No!
"Lovely!" Effie exclaims. "But I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if no one does come forth then we, um…"
"What does it matter?" the mayor asks. He looks aggrieved. "What does it matter? Let her come forward."
As Katniss starts to move up the steps, I grow extremely hysterical. Tears blur my vision. I squeeze my arms around Katniss and vow to never let go. "No, Katniss!" I scream at the top of my lungs. "No! You can't go!"
"Prim, let go," Katniss snaps.
Someone pulls me off of my dear sister. It's Gale, Katniss' friend. I thrash around, doing anything to make the stupid guy let go of me. Why? Why would he take me off of her? Does he want Katniss to leave? Traitor!
"Up you go, Catnip," he says.
Gale carries me off to Mother. "No!" I screech. "Katniss!"
I sob uncontrollably into Mother's dress, probably soaking it like the ocean, as she strokes my hair. I wonder how she's feeling. She just saw her daughter get reaped and then saw her other daughter volunteer. Gale has an arm around both of us, but I don't want his comfort. He's a traitor; pulling me off of Katniss like that.
The rest of the Reaping goes by in a haze. I have my face buried into Mother's chest the whole time. The only thing I remember is the boy who got reaped. Peeta Mellark, the baker's son. And then Effie whisks them away, disappearing into the Justice Building.
xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX
"You have three minutes," the Peacekeeper in a spotless white uniform says stiffly.
I run to Katniss, not hesitating when she holds out her arms. I sit on her lap, holding onto her neck and resting my head on her shoulder, even if I'm not four years old anymore. Mother wraps her arms around us. It's comforting. We sit like this for a few minutes, not saying anything, until Katniss gets serious.
"Prim, listen," she says sternly. "Don't take any tesserae. It's not worth it. You can get by on selling your goat's milk and cheese. Gale will bring you herbs and game."
And she goes on and on about fuel and trading and staying in school, talking as if she'll never be coming back; as if she's already counted herself out of the Games. She may not be a Career, but she's been using a weapon as long as they have, practically.
Then Katniss turns to Mother and seizes her arm. "Listen to me. Are you listening to me? You can't leave again."
I was young when my father died and Mother went into a depression, but I remember it a little. I was just seven, and Father died in a mine explosion. It was sad, but I didn't really understand what had happened back then. Mother went into a deep depression. Her body was alive, yet she was dead. She ignored me and Katniss. I have long since forgiven her, I mean, come on. Her husband, the love of her life, died. I would probably be depressed to if my soul mate has died, too. Katniss, however, just won't forgive her. I wish she would. I'd like it if Katniss had a nice mother-daughter relationship. It'd be good for both Katniss and Mother.
Mother can't meet Katniss' eyes; she's ashamed. "I know. I won't. I couldn't help what-"
"Well you have to help it this time. You can't clock out and leave Prim on her own. There's no me now to keep you both alive. It doesn't matter what happens. Whatever you see on the screen. You have to promise me you'll fight through it!" Katniss shouts.
"I was ill. I could have treated myself if I'd had the medicine I have now," Mother retorts, now angry too.
You see, this is what I mean.
"Then take it. And take care of her!" Katniss says.
I hate all this talk of me as if I'm not even in the room. I'm not stupid; I can take care of myself. And besides, does Katniss really want to spend the last few minutes with us fighting with Mother? I cup Katniss' face in my hands.
"I'll be alright, Katniss," I say. "But you have to take care, too. You're so fast and brave. Maybe you can win."
"Maybe," Katniss says, but I can tell she's unsure. She has to believe in herself! "Then we'd be rich as Haymitch."
"I don't care if we're rich. I just want you to come home. You will try, won't you? Really, really try?" I ask. Prim, don't cry, I think when I feel tears at the brim of my eyes, threatening to spill.
"Really, really try. I swear it," she promises.
Suddenly the door clatters open and that Peacekeeper says, "Your time is up."
The three minutes has been up already? No! They should give us five minutes. No, seven. The tears I was trying to keep in are now flowing. I hug Katniss again so hard that I think I might squeeze her guts out, and she keeps repeating, "I love you. I love you both."
"I love you too, Katniss," I say.
I manage to get one last glimpse of her face, and then the doors are slammed shut with a bang. I stare at the door for a while, like if I stare at it long enough, I'll be able to burn a whole through it big enough for Katniss to climb out and escape.
"Come on, Prim. Let's go home," Mother says gently.
I take her outstretched hand and more tears roll down my cheek. Mother squeezes my hand and manages a weak smile at me. I don't have enough energy, or desire, to smile back.
Katniss swore to me. She made a promise. And you can't break a promise.
How'd you like it? I spent like half of the time staring down at Chapter 2 and 3 of The Hunger Games book.
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-MJ888 :{D