A/N Hello! This is The Hunger Games from Prim's POV (point of view). I have always felt like Prim is a very misunderstood character in the Hunger Games, and in this novel I hope to show her stronger side as well as her development throughout the series. Enjoy!

My eyes fly open in terror. But it wasn't real. I try to convince myself that the dream wasn't real. Katniss isn't going into the Hunger Games. I turn over carefully and see my sister's sleeping form beside me. Still here. Still alive.

These nightmares make me feel weak. I used to never have them, but now they plague me almost every night. Recently, as the Reaping loomed nearer, they became more and more frequent. And now the fateful day is here. The day where my sister's fate will be decided. At least for this year.

I climb out of bed, being careful not to disturb Katniss, and crawl under the covers next to my mother. Katniss is the one in the family who protects and provides for us, but my mom is the one who I go to for comfort. I snuggle down in the blankets and wrap one arm around my cat, Buttercup. He's a bit dirty, and he doesn't have the best temperament, but I love him just the same. I close my eyes again and let sleep overcome me.


When I wake up, it takes a moment to figure out where I am. I haven't climbed in with my mother for almost a year. I sit up, being careful not to wake my mom, and look over to the bed that I share with my sister. It's empty, and the sheets are thrown carelessly back. Katniss will be out hunting, like she is every day.

I imagine her slipping out of the house, sliding under the fence that separates District Twelve from the woods outside. Whenever I think of her, free, outside of District twelve, my heart aches with longing, admiration, and a bit of jealousy. I desperately want to be able to be like my fearless older sister, but whenever she takes me into the woods and tries to show me how to hunt, I lose it. I can't stand the thought of killing animals. I can't stand that there is an injured being right in front of me, but I can't help it. If Katniss brings her kills into the house, already dead and beyond help, I can handle it, but seeing the animals that my sister would shoot in such pain was more than I could bear.

Sometimes I wish that Katniss would let me leave the district with her to gather plants, but whenever I ask her she just says that I will slow her down. I know that she isn't willing to leave me alone in the woods, so I don't press the issue. Maybe one day she will see that while I am kind and loving, I am also tough, every bit as tough as she is. At least, I could be, if she would give me a chance.

I wonder if she realizes that it hurt me every bit as much as her when our father died in the mines. Our mother left us at that point, five years ago. I was just as scared as Katniss, only being seven, not really understanding what was happening, only knowing that one day I had two loving parents, and the next I had none. Now I understand what happened, that my mother couldn't handle my father's death. I understand why she just sat, for days on end, barely eating or drinking. But understanding doesn't make it any easier to bear.

I feel my mother stirring beside me, probably roused by my movement. Before she wakes up completely, I get out of bed and slip the water-filled kettle into our fireplace. I know that today will be terrible for her, and I hope to help make it a bit easier on her by making her morning as wonderful as I can. I fetch a small amount of coal from a bucket by the door, and expertly begin stacking wood and placing the coal in the fireplace.

Within a few minutes, a merry fire crackles in the hearth and the water for tea is warming. While I wait for it to boil, I slip into Katniss's old coat, wince as I realize that it still comes down almost to my knees, and slide my feet into old shoes that are two sizes too big. I then creep around to the back of my house, smiling as I see my goat, Lady, in her makeshift pen. I sit down on an upside down bucket and begin to milk her, directing the milk into a pail that was already under her. Lady just stands there placidly, occasionally turning her head to stare at me with her strange sideways pupils. I grin, thinking of the day that Katniss brought her home to me. Lady had a badly hurt shoulder, but my mother and worked together to save her, and we managed it, eventually. Her shoulder isn't quite the same, but at least she didn't have to lose her leg. I scratch her behind the ears after finishing milking her, and then hurry back into the house. When I walk in, my mother is awake and dressed, laying out two beautiful outfits on the bed that I share with Katniss.

"Good morning, Prim," she says in her soft voice.

I smile at her. "I got some milk from Lady. May I add it to the tea?" She nods and I head over to the fireplace and remove the kettle from it's hook, noting that the water is boiling rapidly. It probably has been for a while. I drop in a couple of mint leaves and pour the flavored water into two small mugs. I add a minute amount of goat milk before handing one mug to my mother and taking a sip from the other one.

Mint tea with goat milk is bland and nearly tasteless, but over the years I have grown to enjoy it. There is a faint flavor in it that reminds me of the red and white striped candies that are sold in town. I've never tasted one of them before, but they smell like heaven. Maybe one day, when I'm older, I can trade for some of them, but right now it's just a dream.

I have so many dreams that can never happen. I want to be a doctor, like the one in town who's responsible for taking care of the wounded miners. I want to taste the cakes in town square, the ones with the intricate frosting decorations - flowers and suns, sailing ships surrounded by foaming waves, fireworks that seem to leap off of the cakes. But most of all, I want my whole family, or at least what's left of it, to be happy. I want Katniss to be happy all of the time. I rarely see her smile, except when she's with Gale. It always makes me sad when I see her smiling, because I am reminded of how infrequently that expression crosses her face.

I want my mother to really live again. Maybe one day she can start a real hospital, the kind that we only hear about on television. Maybe she can have a purpose again. We could work together to heal our patients. It would be wonderful.

I shake my head to clear it and slip out of the coat that I was wearing. I shiver as I pull off my nightgown and hurry to step into the tub full of warm water that my mother has set out for me. I relish the feel of the water against my skin. It has been almost a week since I took a bath, and without a doubt it will be another week before I get the chance to bathe again. I dawdle for as long as I can, but eventually the water becomes cold and I'm forced to step out of the tub and get dressed.

After toweling off, I hurry over to the bed where my mom laid the reaping outfits. Katniss's first reaping outfit sits on my side of the bed. It's dainty; a white blouse with a pretty brown knee-length skirt. I love that I can wear my sister's old outfit. It makes me feel like some part of Katniss will be with me, protecting me, even though she will be standing far away from me with the other sixteen year olds.

Katniss steps into the door just as my mother finishes styling my hair. I'm ready, now there is nothing to do but wait. My sister walks up to me, smiling in that kind way that says I am young and sweet and innocent. I try to smile back to show that I'm not scared, but it must look more like a grimace. I'm not afraid for myself - if I'm reaped Katniss will just volunteer. But I'm terrified for her, that she will be reaped. She made me promise that no matter what happens, I won't volunteer. I told her I wouldn't, but it tore at my heart to say it. I know that if I volunteered for her, she would forever blame herself for my death. She would rather die than have to live the rest of her life with that burden. But she couldn't recognize that I would, too. If my name is drawn and she volunteers for me, I will never be able to forgive myself, because I will have killed her with my weakness. If Katniss goes into the Hunger Games, it will be my fault, and nothing will ever change that. I fight back tears, and turn around quickly, pretending to check my hair in the mirror until can compose myself again. She can't know what I was just thinking.

When Katniss is dressed and ready, we sit together while we wait for the bell to ring that signifies the start of the Reaping.

"Tuck your tail in, little duck," she laughs at me. My hand flies to my back and I realize that my blouse isn't tucked in properly. Part of it sticks out, forming a small duck tail. My mother tried to make the too-big outfit stay on me with pins, but the attempt wasn't entirely successful. I'm a bit embarrassed, but I give her a small quack to make her laugh, and hopefully to help ease her nerves.

"Quack yourself!" Katniss laughs. "Come on, let's eat." She has set some game and plants on the table. My eyes are instantly drawn to a bucket of strawberries that rests in the middle of the table, and I look at her.

"Are the strawberries for later?" I inquire, trying not to salivate too much.

"Yes," Katniss laughs a little, drawing the strawberries slightly away from me. I grin and turn back to my meal. It's good, and despite my nervousness I finish it very rapidly.

At one o'clock, we make our way slowly to the town square where the reaping will be held. Katniss signs in and heads off to take her place among the other kids her age, and then I am at the check-in table. I hold my head high as the an official takes a blood sample before directing me to a small roped off area filled with all of the other twelve year old girls in the district. Most of them are shaking uncontrollably; a few even have tears running down their faces. I try to appear mature, and as unconcerned as is possible. There is an awkward silence for a while, but eventually Mayor Undersee makes his way to the microphone. There are all of the normal reaping formalities, like reading the Treaty of Treason and reading the list of our victors, but I try not to listen. The Treaty of Treason just makes me mad, and I'm almost ashamed of how few victors we have. Two. Only Haymitch is still alive. I heard that the other victor died just after Haymitch won.

Anyway, as Mayor Undersee reads off Haymitch's name, District Twelve's only surviving victor stumbles onto the stage. He's drunk, as usual. I can't stand our victor, because he seems to be in a perpetual state of drunkenness. It's pathetic.

Haymitch tries to give our escort, Effie Trinket, a hug, and she gives a high pitched squeal, slapping his hands away. I smile a little. This is a fairly entertaining day, as far as Reaping days go. The mayor tries to direct the attention back to the reaping by introducing Effie Trinket. She trots up to the podium.

"Happy Hunger Games!" she says. "And, may the odds be ever in your favor!" Effie flashes a blindingly white toothed smile at the crowd. "Ladies first!"

And then she is bouncing over to the glass ball containing the female names. Swirling her hand around before plunging it deep into the slips of paper. And pulling out a slip that will decide Katniss's fate. It seems that she intentionally dawdles on her way back to the podium, but she finally reaches it and opens the slip of paper. There is a long pause.

"Primrose Everdeen."

A/N I hope you liked it! Please review, it's the only way that I can improve my writing. Was it amazing? Did it suck? Feedback is adored. :)