Chapter 2
She would not make a nice cat.
I scratch my claws against the bucket and wail for mercy. I struggle to keep my head above the water, but the mean girl with dark hair firmly submerges me under the surface of the water.
She is very very mean.
I hate her.
Despite my pleading, she still pushes my head further and further into the bucket as I flail my claws around, hoping to dig my nails into her flesh just to escape.
She is too strong.
She is too mean.
I hate her.
I surrender to her and the unforgivable darkness when I feel someone pull me out of the bucket.
It is Prim. She rescued me and I love her.
She is the light that secludes the darkness.
She is nice.
The dark haired girl is mean.
She is arguing with Prim, and I quickly crawl away and hiss at the mean girl. My fur drags my bones down towards the ground, and my eyes slowly droop downwards as well.
Prim is begging and cries to the dark haired girl. Prim's sobs and pleas are addressed to Katniss.
Katniss is mean.
I hate Katniss.
Sighing, Katniss gives in to Prim and sternly tells her that I have to be cleaned and disinfested.
I hiss once more at her because clearly the attempted cat-slaughter of a drowning did clean me.
Katniss is mean.
I hate her.
She would not make a very nice cat.
Prim gently picks me up and coos, "It's okay Buttercup. You're fine now. Let's get you cleaned up."
I do not want to be cleaned up, but I love Prim.
She is nice.
And she named me.
I feel pretty now because Buttercup is a pretty name.
I have never been named nor have I felt pretty.
Prim is nice.
I love her.
And she is my family.
Family.
My first family.
