Heya, readers! I wrote this when I was eleven, so the quality might not be the best. But if you read it, please review and be on the lookout for future chapters and future fics from me! I HATED how Katniss viewed Prim, so I decided to portray her character deeper, with many "masks" over her real personality. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!
It's all my fault. The whole thing. Not just that, but everything. Millions of innocent people are dead and the rebellion is starting. It's here. But I guess I always knew in my heart that it would come. I glance out one of the many windows of the hovercraft that I boarded to leave District 12. I start remembering all of the bombs and fire… and the suffocating smoke. Not being able to breathe or move: only scream. Tears fill up my eyes remembering the sting of poison. I quickly wipe them away.
Not wanting to relive the horror that was a couple days ago, I focus on an area of pine trees outside. I spot a mockingjay perching near the tip of one of the trees, and a frown that was already formed further creases my face.
Mockingjay. Katniss. Rue… Blech. I think I might have been friends with Rue… No. I wouldn't have… We're too different. She was sweet, strong, and lovable. I'm cross… and utterly despicable. And Katniss… I'm sick and tired of pretending to love her. It's kinda hard when you want to punch her in the face. She's just… eh. I guess I love her in some way, but then I despise her, too. It's confusing. I feel this slight itch of love for her, but it's covered with this loathing. I couldn't have loved her and done what I did. I sit, feeling disgusted with myself. I let hate overtake me. Now it's too late to reverse it. The deed is done. I look back and see Mother resting in her chair.
Oh, Momma, I'm glad you haven't gone through the pain and regret that I have. But, in a way, she has. I never knew Poppa that well, but he must have been nice. She went into depression and all… No begging would make her better. Mother had a disease, though. I'm just wicked.
"What have I done?" I whisper to myself. I let my hatred for my older sister drive me mad. If I had just told her instead of pretending… I sigh. That would have turned out much better. URG! Why do I always do this to myself? I'm doing the right thing, now. Right? … Yes, I am.
I hear the door open, and my head whips toward the sound. It's Haymitch, of coarse. He's the only one who visits me for some reason. "Hi, Haymitch."
"Hello Primrose," he responds. "How are you?" How are you? This is so unlike him.
"Fine." I answer. "Why so out of character? You're obviously sober." His brow furrows.
"Your sister won't let me drink any." He grimly tells me. "Not that that stops me, but I have to cut back some."
"Haymitch, is something wrong with both of you? Last time I checked, no one could stop you from drinking. What's wrong?" He shrugs.
"I guess that explosion really messed with Katniss." He grunts. I look at him, a quizzical expression on my face. Hopefully he knows what I'm asking. "What?" Oh, yes… He can't read me like he can Katniss.
"Why didn't you tell Katniss I'm here?"
"I didn't think you'd like that." I guess he does know me… sort of. "And she already has too much on her mind." Oh, yeah. Peeta. I glare at Haymitch. "What?" I shrug.
I… just…" I don't know what to say. Haymitch has been nothing but semi-kind to me. Odd, I don't remember him being nice to anyone. "I need to do something. I'm bored. Can I have a job or something?"
"That's what I came here for." He pulls up a chair from the corner of the room Momma is asleep in, and sets it to my right. "I need you to do something special for me."
"What is it?" I ask. "It better not be 'act more vulnerable so Katniss has inspiration.'"
"Of corse not. Katniss will go save Peeta, as we all know she will, and while she's doing that… You'll be killing the president." YES! I needed this job! I nod, excited for the task. I will not fail. A grin replaces the scowl on my face. He sees this excitement, and then he heads out. When he's still embarking, I shout.
"When?" He looks back at me.
"When I tell you." I chuckle. Finally, he's his old self.
/
I have to wait days in that room. A servant tends to my mother's and my every whim, but other that that, we're alone in the room for the whole time. It's really boring… I sleep most of the time.
/
I wake up hearing voiced on the other side of the door. It's probably Haymitch talking to the servant. The two of them come into the room.
"Hi," I greet. "Why aren't we in District 13 yet?"
"We had to take a longer route." Haymitch responds. I grunt in dissatisfaction. He's sober… Again.
"Are you making an effort to be sober around me?" You know I don't mind." I question. "You're so out of character." I then whisper, " The author of this fan fic can NOT get your character right."
"What did you say?" The servant asks me.
"Nothing! I didn't say anything!" I stutter, flabbergasted she heard me. She sets a tray of food on the table by Mother, who grabs hold of a piece of toast from it. Haymitch sits on the same chair as last time, and I realize that I haven't moved it since then.
"Today we are going to land in District 13, and then we will be heading out." I nod, knowing what he means. I'll kill President Snow today. I'm already ready.
"Will I need weapons? Strategies? Anything?" I interrogate him. "I can't improvise. I need a plan."
"Yes. First, I'll sneak you in the same hovercraft as the rescue team: Gale, Finnick, Madge, and Portia-…"
"Portia? How did she get here?" I burst out in wonder.
"She'll already be in District 13 when we arrive." He continues. "They'll creep into the main building of the Capitol's government, which is President Snow's office building, and they'll purposely get caught so you can then enter the scene and find the president. If you fail- which I doubt you will- Katniss and I will head there and defeat the government ourselves." This puzzles me for a second.
"Why do I kill Snow? He's not a dictator: he's a president. He was elected."
"Yes, but… Look, do you want your task or not?" He stutters, unsure. Then he has this look on his face. He's revising his plan, his creation. Then I see he is sure his plan won't fail. "Primrose, we will defeat the Capitol." I nod, and he and the servant leave. I look at Mother who has saved me some French toast. I walk over, grab a piece, and return to my seat. I nibble on it, and surprisingly, I'm not hungry. She watches me chew, then lets herself go back to sleep in her chair. I make sure she is asleep, then grab the walkie-talkie that I've been keeping in my pocket. I press the talk button.
"President Snow?" I whisper. A smooth, buttery-thick voice, that causes adrenaline to race through my body, answers.
"Yes, Primrose, dear?" I can't stop a wide grin from sprouting.
"Mission is going according to plan. Haymitch is so readable. You know the theory I had that I told you about a week ago? It's exactly what's happening." My finger slides off the button, and I hear the president's voice oozing "Good work, my darling."