A/N: A couple of things... First off, someone asked if the entire story will be in Prim's POV. That's the plan for now, and I can't think of a reason why it would change. Second, I will hopefully be updating every two days or so for a while, but in a few weeks updates might become less frequent. Third, thank you so much for the reviews/favorites/follows. They make me so happy every time. :)
My mother and I hurry back to my house. When we arrive, we just sit on the mattress clutching each other. I miss Katniss so badly, and it has only been five minutes since I was with her. It was only this morning that I lay in bed with her, snuggling close to her warm body. It was only this morning that I was happy, when I was milking my Lady. Buttercup noses his way into our arms, and I hold him tight, clinging to his furry heat.
The next thing that I know, someone is shaking my shoulder. I blearily open my eyes, thinking that Katniss must be waking me up to a new day. She must be telling me that it's time for school. But when my eyes focus on the person in front of me, it isn't Katniss. It's my mom.
"Wake up, Prim. The reapings are about to be replayed. I don't want you to miss them, I think you will regret it later," She tells me, her voice laden with sadness. I can't respond because my throat is choked up, and if I speak I know that I will begin to sob again. Instead, I give a tiny nod and drag myself over to the front of our rusty old television set, sitting down on our old couch. A puff of dust rises as I settle in. Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman sit together, talking about this year's tributes. I force myself to pay attention, to stay tuned in to the droning of their voices, but finally they are actually beginning to replay the footage of the reapings. District One comes first, as always. The tributes are a pair of ditzy-looking blonds who absolutely huge. They are both attractive, in that completely fake Capital way, and I know that they will get lots of sponsors. I begin to tear up. I've only been watching for a few minutes and already the odds seem against Katniss. I blink my tears away, desperate to see the pair from district two. They only show the actually reaping of the names, not the reading of the treaty of treason and such, so the districts go by rapidly.
The tributes from two are even larger than the ones from District One. My throat feels dry and parched. My stomach is boiling with terror. I feel sick, glued to the screen as more and more names are pulled, each name draws Katniss one step farther from home, one step closer to her death. I shudder and look away from the screen for a moment. If watching the reapings scares me half to death, how am I going to deal with the Games? I try to blink my tears away, but it's no use.
"Prim, are you okay?" My mother asks.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just so scared for Katniss and..." I trail off, not wanting to admit that I feel like it's my fault that she is in the Games.
"What is it?" my mother urges. I give in.
"It's my fault that Katniss is in the Games!" I explode. "If I had been stronger then maybe she wouldn't have volunteered for me! I'm weak and that's why she volunteered. because she knew I didn't have a chance in the arena. And she does have a chance. But so do all of the other tributes, and if she dies it will be my fault." I wipe at my eyes. "I will have killed her."
My mother's eyes are wide. "Prim, it's not your fault at all! Katniss volunteered because she loves you. Don't you think that if Gale were reaped, he'd have a good chance at winning?" I nod, baffled as to why she just changed the subject. My mother continues. "And don't you think that, if she were allowed to, Katniss would volunteer for him in a heartbeat?"
"Yes, but-"
"Prim, Katniss did not volunteer because you're weak. She loves you, and that's why she took your place."
"I guess so," I answer. But I'm still not entirely convinced.
I look back to the television screen in time to see that that the tributes from three are unremarkable. I'm certain that Katniss could best them in a fight if she had to. I feel terrible, thinking of the people as tributes, as only an obstacle between Katniss and me. But that's all they really are, and I have to think like that. Everyone who I see on this screen has to die if I am going to get my sister back.
No other tributes really catch my attention until I see the pair form district eleven. A girl who must be my age is reaped. She has dark skin and deep, dark eyes, and I can't help thinking that she would be my friend if she lived in twelve. She looks strong and kind. I don't want her to die. Then, I see the boy from eleven and my heart skips a beat. He must be at least six and a half feet tall, with rippling muscles and a face that, while it's kind, is also hard.
Tears are running down my face again, and I try to wipe them away, but it's no use. I jump up and leave the house before the final reaping is played. I can't watch Katniss volunteer for me again. Once was impossibly hard. Twice will be unbearable.
I hurry around to the back of my house and climb into Lady's pen. As I sit down on the milking stool, my goat butts her head against me, knocking me to the ground. I can't help smiling, despite my gloomy mood. Lady's antics never fail to cheer me up.
After sitting with Lady for a while, I wipe my tears away and stand up. I drag myself out of her pen and then meander around my house for a while before forcing myself to go for a walk.
I wander around the streets of the Seam, but they're too covered in coal dust and smoke to be relaxing. Almost without my realizing it, I'm walking towards the meadow at the edge of District Twelve. I find the meadow refreshing in the same way that Katniss found the woods relaxing. When I reach my destination, I collapse in the tall grass and stare up at the sky, trying to forget everything that is happening, if only for a little while. I remember Katniss once telling me that the stars help her to find her way if she is in the woods after dark. As I stare at the sky, I ponder how these seemingly random dots of light cold keep her from getting lost, but it doesn't make sense, so I give up and just lose myself in the stars. Somehow, their light is almost mesmerizing.
Suddenly, I realize that it's late. The stars are out and it's dark, of course it's late! Kicking myself for being so stupid, I stand and make my way back through the streets of the Seam, stopping at the pump outside my house before going in. I fill a bucket with cool water and splash my face with it, relishing the refreshing feel of the liquid against my hot skin. Then I undo my two braids and run my fingers through my blond hair. I them re-braid my hair in a single brain, like the one that Katniss usually wears. It makes me feel slightly closer to her, somehow. Everything that I can do to hold on to my sister helps me, in some small way. It helps me hold on to myself, to reality.
Once I'm cleaned up and refreshed, I slip into my house. My mother is stretched out on the couch, her eyes closed. I'm relieved that I didn't make her worry with my absence; the last thing that she needs is more stress. I walk into the tiny kitchen adjacent to the living room and open the cupboard, hoping to find something that I can make a late dinner with. I see the strawberries that Katniss brought home this morning, and beside them is the meat from several dead squirrels and rabbits. Somehow they have lost the appeal that they held earlier in the day, but I take them out and start to prepare a meal anyway. Maybe the smell of cooking meat will make me hungry.
As I wash the strawberries, I try to come to terms with the fact that there is a very real chance that Katniss won't be coming back, that I might never see her again. Somehow, the hope that she might be able to come home is what makes everything so hard to bear. I hate to admit it, even to myself, but it would be easier if Katniss were just dead.
Once the stew is cooking, I leave the tiny kitchen and check on my mom. She's still lying on the couch, but her eyes are open and she looks okay.
"Something smells wonderful. Did you start dinner, Prim?" my mother asks. I nod.
"I started some stew and washed up the strawberries," I tell her.
"Thanks. How are you doing, Prim?" she inquires softly.
"I'm fine. Or, as close to fine as I can be right now."
"Good. I'll finish the dinner and call you when it's done." I'm so glad that my mother is making an effort to stay herself and not go to pieces like she did when my dad died. I don't know what I would do without her.
I sit down on the couch and smile as Buttercup immediately jumps into my lap. He settles down and starts making biscuits on my legs. I wince. As wonderful as cats can be, they're also highly obnoxious at times.
After a time, my mother's voice calls me to the adjacent room, and I hurry over. While I'm not hungry, the cooking meat undeniably smells fantastic. I sit down at the small table and force myself to take a bite of the stew that my mother lays in front of me. It's tasteless to me, and it sticks in my throat, but I eat anyway. There's no sense in starving myself. I know that we will be able to get food, although it will likely be less than usual. Gale will bring us game and some plants, although I should help him by gathering dandelions in the meadow. I can still be useful, even if I don't dare to leave the district. I can still help to keep my family alive, as one final act of kindness towards my sister. I can still do my very best to keep everyone alive and to keep her happy, in the off chance that she will come home to me and my mother. I can still do it. With this strength, I force down the rest of the stew and strawberries before standing.
"I'm getting ready for bed," I announce, my voice catching slightly.
"Sleep well. And thanks again for starting the stew. Why don't you go spend a bit of time with Lady before going to sleep? I know that she always cheers you up," my mom suggests.
I nod and walk out of the back door to my house to check on Lady, despite the fact that i was with her less than an hour ago. I refill her bucket of water, make sure that the wood pile still provides shelter, and scratch her head for a couple of minutes before walking back inside.
Once indoors, I scoop up Buttercup and take him with me to my bedroom. I hurry to change into the nightgown that I wore last night before lying down on my bed, huddling under the sheets and trying to get warm, but without Katniss's comforting warmth beside me, it's impossible. The bed is too big, and too cold for me to rest. I pull Buttercup close to me, ignoring his meows of protest, and snuggle close to his furry heat. He curls up next to me once I stop pulling on him, and begins a slow, deep, and contented purr. Somehow, it comforts me. It makes me feel safe and warm and hopeful. I wrap myself around his warm body and somehow manage to fall asleep.
