Finally! Prim is done. Sorry for the long wait, but I'm focusing on my other fic Invincible: Cato's Story which you should check out and review :D but I hope you like it and it's worth the wait. It gets kind of slow in the morning (where I got writer's block) but I like it. Please let me know what you think! I love getting input, and I like to know I'm writing thing people like.
Also, new fic coming soon I hope you like. I'm working really hard, and I'll let you know when it comes out. Clue on my profile!
The perfectly manicured hand hovers above the reaping ball, then plunges deep into the mass of names. My heart starts racing. It can't be me, it just can't. I only have one name, one slip in thousands. The hand selects a name, and I hold my breath.
"Primrose Everdeen," the a deep, ominous voice echoes across the square, and I freeze.
"RUN!" Katniss' voice calls from far away. I try to run towards it, but I can't move. Suddenly, I can feel myself being pulled towards the stage. No matter how hard I try to fight it, it's no use. This mysterious force is too strong. When I reach the stage, I start to get desperate. I manage to get to the reaping ball, but every slip has my name.
"NO! There must be someone else! A volunteer?" I plea, looking out at the crowd. But then everyone starts disappearing. The last to go is Katniss. She gives me an apologetic look.
"I'm sorry Prim. I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you." And then she's gone.
I wake up sweating. Carefully, I slip out of the bed I share with my sister, Katniss. She is still asleep beside me, and I don't want to wake her. Tiptoeing, I crawl into bed beside our mother. My cat Buttercup hops up beside me and wiggles his way under my arms. Squeezing him tightly, I manage to fall back asleep.
When I awaken again in the morning, Katniss is gone. Probably hunting, I think. Mother is still asleep beside me. I always enjoy looking at my mom when she's sleeping. She looks peaceful, happier. I like to think that she's with my father when she dreams. I feel a shudder creep up my spine as I remember my dream last night. Or should I say nightmare.
To distract myself from the fact that today is my first reaping, I go into the kitchen to make some tea for myself and mother. There's an upturned bowl on the counter, so I can only assume that Katniss has found the goat cheese I left for her last night. My gift to her on reaping day. She must have taken it out with Gale. Sometimes I wonder if they'll ever get married. Knowing Katniss, she would never risk it, never risk the reaping for her children.
The goat cheese has reminded my about my goat, Lady. As I wait for the tea to boil, I go out and milk her. Lady's head perks up as enter the yard. I still remember the day Katniss brought her home for my birthday. I stroke her for a while, immersed in one of the few happy memories I have.
I stay in the yard until he whistle of the teapot brings me back inside. Even though I hate to do it, I know I should probably wake up mother. She told me she was going to help me get ready for the reaping today.
A shiver runs trough my spine. The reaping. Today, two kids are going to be picked to fight to the death. Which for our district mostly means death. Don't worry, I tell myself. It's not going to be you. Katniss said so.
I take a deep breath to calm myself down before shaking my mother awake.
"Oh, good morning Prim," she says, and I give her a hug.
"Morning!" My mom looks at me, and I see a sad look cross her face. But in a moment, it's gone and she's smiling again.
"Where's Katniss?" she asks, looking around the room.
"I don't know. She's probably in the woods. That's the only place she would go," I answer. Either that or the hob, but I don't say that. Mom doesn't like the fact the Katniss trades there, but we don't really have much of a choice.
"I wish she would let us know, or at least leave us a note, " my mom sighs.
We both know Katniss doesn't have to leave a note, but again I don't say anything. It's a very sore subject with my mom. She knows Katniss has never really forgiven her for leaving after our father died. Katniss had to keep us all alive on her own. I just wish she would realize that we have mom now, and that's what's important. It's not like it's mom's fault for spacing out - she had no control over it. Besides, she feels guilty enough already.
I decide to change the subject. "I made tea," I say cheerfully. "Would you like some?"
"Of course," she replies.
So I pour both of us a cup and we drink it in silence. It's pretty obvious that we are both feeling a little uncomfortable today. It must be bad for my mother, sending not one but two children into the reaping this year. Katniss must have twenty entries by now, while I only have one. I can't help feeling a little bit guilty about that, but Katniss wouldn't let me take out any tesserae. She insisted on doing it all herself. It's been like this since our father died - her taking care of me, not trusting our mother. I appreciate all she's done, especially when we were young, and I love her so much. I guess I just feel bad because she gave up her childhood so that I could have mine.
"So, I was thinking you could wear Katniss' first reaping outfit today," my mom declares abruptly. I figured I would be, since I don't have anything and I'm definitely not expecting anyone to waste money on me.
"Sounds good," I answer.
"Good. Now why don't you get yourself washed up while I see if I can find those clothes,"
"Okay." I go to our tiny bathroom and fill the tub with lukewarm water. Carefully, I slid in and scrub myself down from head to toe, taking extra care to wash my hair nicely. My father always loved my hair, so I try to take good care of it.
When I'm through, I find my outfit lying on my bed. I dress myself in the white blouse and skirt, but the shirt is a little big on me. As soon as I finish, my mom walks in.
"Why don't I do your hair?" she asks me, and I nod. "Here, sit down."
Wordlessly, she combs and brushes my hair, making it nice and smooth. Then, she braids my hair into two braids, like pigtails. They look like how Katniss used to wear her hair.
"Perfect," I hear my mother whisper.
I hear someone come in through the front door and turn to see that Katniss has come back, carrying what seems to be a lot of food. She sets it in the kitchen, then comes to see me.
"You look great, little duck," she says, tucking in the back of my blouse.
"I laid out something for you to wear too," our mom says from behind me, and Katniss stiffens. She doesn't like help from anyone, except maybe Gale.
"Okay," Katniss answers curtly. At least she didn't turn it down.
I wait in the kitchen fidgeting with my hands until Katniss is done getting dressed. It turns out my mom has lent her one of her dresses from when she worked in the apothecary shop. Before my mom married my dad, she lives in the merchant part of town and had a little more money. But she gave it all up to be with my dad. Her dresses are special to her, and I'm glad Katniss is wearing one.
"Do you want me to do your hair?" Mother offers.
"Uh, sure," Katniss says, a little unsure. I watch as our mom twists Katniss' hair into some sort of elaborate braided up-do. I wonder where she learned to do that. It's almost as good as something you might see during the interviews before the Games.
"It's… beautiful," my sister murmurs quietly. My mom just smiles.
We eat a little bit of the awful grain bread and decide to save the good stuff for tonight. Celebrate the fact that neither of us were chosen. Because neither of us will be chosen. Katniss promised, and Katniss is never wrong.
Too soon, we are walking to the town square. I can see the kids, all being corralled into sections, and I freeze up. I can't keep going.
"Don't worry. It's not going to be you. It won't be. You're only one name," Katniss reassures me.
"I-I know," I stutter. "I just don't want to leave you."
"It'll be okay, little duck. I'll see you soon, okay?" Her grey eyes meet my blue ones, and I feel better. She's kept me safe for so long, and I know she'd do anything for me.'s
I can't do anything but squeak out, "Okay."
With that, Katniss turns and goes to her section closer to the front while I go to the back. I guess it's set up that way because the odds are better that an older kid will be picked. Older child equals more names. The chances of my name being picked out of all those slips is so small, so remote, it probably isn't worth worrying about.
But that doesn't change the fact that as soon as the district twelve escort steps onto the stage, my heart speeds up. There are speeches and a video, but I'm not listening. Instead, I am transfixed on that reaping ball, filled with slips. One of them has my name on it. Twenty of them have Katniss'.
Too soon, the Capitol woman is calling out, "Ladies first!"
The hand digs into the reaping ball, just like in my nightmares. I must be in a nightmare right now, because the name that's called out is mine.
"Primrose Everdeen!"
The name bounces around in my skull, but I don't move, for surely this is just another bad dream. Any second now, I will wake up and crawl into bed with my mother. Buttercup will hop up beside me, guarding me from - from- this.
Only it's not a dream. The girl beside me nudges me softy. "It's you," she whispers softly, slightly timid, as if she's afraid I might break. There's no hiding the sympathy in her voice. This isn't a dream.
Slowly, I take small steps up to the stage. But before I can reach it, there's Katniss, shouting for me. I know already she will volunteer for me. That's when I really know it's real - in my dreams Katniss is always unable to reach me. Now I wish she would disappear, be pulled somewhere else. She doesn't deserve this, she's worked too hard. Besides, how will mom and I survive without her?
"I volunteer!" I hear her shout. "I volunteer as tribute."
Finally, I find my voice. "NO!" I scream, then throw myself on her. She can't do this, she can't! I won't let this happen.
Suddenly, a great force lifts me off of her. I feel relief. Maybe it is a dream, and this is a new torture. But no, its just Gale, throwing me over his shoulder. Surely he must understand! Katniss can NOT go into the arena.
Now I'm crying. No, not just crying. My body is racked with sobs, convulsing with pain. I watch my big sister walk onto the stage, into her death. It's my fault. Is all I can think. It's my fault. It's my fault.
Then I go numb. I am vaguely aware that Gale sets me down beside my mother. I know the reaping must continue. But as the reality sinks in, my mind can focus on a single thought.
My sister has done everything for me, and now she is going to die for me.
I hope I did the emotion well. Gale next! Or maybe , Can't decide.
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