"Prim! School!" My mother yells up the stairs of our big house. I grab my abnormally heavy brown pack and scurry down the stairs.
"Oh, it's you," Katniss murmurs. Sometimes she forgets that I am Prim, her daughter; not Prim, her sister.
"Where's Dad?" I ask her.
"He's in the bakery."
"Okay, I'm going to be late today, just to let you know."
"Okay, have fun."
She doesn't care. She never has and never will. The only person she really cares about is Prim, not me, Primrose Everdeen. I think she hates me. She did not name me. Peeta, who really understands who I am, named me. My mom doesn't get me. She doesn't get that I think the Hunger Games are wrong. It doesn't matter if they are in the Capitol or the districts. Making kids kill each other is just wrong. Yet, she voted for the Hunger Games in the Capitol. Isn't that what ruined her life?
She doesn't understand what we are doing to the Capitol. Yes, they used to be supportive of the Hunger Games, but they didn't really know what was going on. And know we're making them starve. Isn't that what you used to hate, Katniss? Seeing the thin, boney, hungry people? Well, that is exactly what you are causing.
I walk out the door. If she notices that my pack is heavier than usual, she didn't say. I despise the way she treats me. She treats me like I shouldn't even be here. Like I'm a disgrace to her and my namesake, like she'd rather have her sister back, dying than have a healthy daughter. Like she wishes I just wasn't alive. That's why I'm leaving. That's why I'm running away.
