Primrose Everdeen, I think. Oh no, oh no, no no no...
She's her sister. Her sister. The one person she really, truly loves. I've seen them together. Giving each other secret smiles at school. Walking home together, hand in hand. Sometimes even giggling. She has this special smile she only shares with her sister. She doesn't even smile that way for her dark haired friend.
The crowd starts murmuring unhappily, just like they do every time twelve year old is reaped, because no one thinks it's fair. This small little girl is going to die, there's absolutely no doubt about that. I watch her as she makes her way towards the podium, face white, fists clenched, walking in small stiff steps. I feel a sharp pain in my palms and realize that I've been clenching my fists as well.
"Prim!" comes a hoarse cry, and I can see the girl starting to move towards her sister. "Prim!" She charges forward as people move aside to let her through. She reaches her sister just as Primrose is about to mount the steps. Sweeping her sister behind her with one arm, she shouts, "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"
I feel the world spinning around me. I stagger and involuntarily clutch someone's shoulder, trying to steady myself.
She can't volunteer. She can't. She'll die. And if she dies, I'll die. It's as simple as that. I can't think. I can't move. The words I'm going to lose her forever keep spinning around inside of my skull. I feel tears start to sting my eyes. I wonder if I'll be allowed to say goodbye to her? But a small part of me hopes not, because what will I say to her? She probably doesn't even remember me.
"Lovely!" gushes Effie Trinket. "But I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth then we, um..." she trails off, confused.
"What does it matter?" the mayor snaps. I see him looking at the girl, a pained expression on his face. "What does it matter?" he repeats. "Let her come forward."
Primrose starts screaming hysterically, begging her sister not to go. "Prim, let go!" the girl says harshly. I can see her struggle to remain calm. "Let go!" Suddenly, her dark haired friend appears by her side and pries the screaming Prim off of the girl. He mumbles something to her, hoists Primrose over his shoulder and carries her off while she kicks and screams. I look back at the girl. She's shaking a little bit as she starts climbing the podium steps.
"Well bravo!" Effie squeals. "That's the spirit of the games!" I'm fighting to gain control of my disgust, my rage and my anguish. "What's your name?" she asks. The girl swallows. "Katniss Everdeen," she says. At the sound of her name, I start shaking. This is wrong, I think. This is all so, so wrong...
"I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we?" She chuckles. "Come on everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!"
No one claps. There's a silence that lasts about five seconds. Something inside me goes off, and I act before I even realize what I'm doing, I'm that angry. I press the three middle fingers of my left hand to my lips, and hold them out to her. I close my eyes and wait to be hauled off to jail. Nothing happens. I open my eyes, and find everyone around me doing the exact same thing. We are all, all of District Twelve, saluting our brave tribute. We are saluting her courage and her sacrifice. For the first time, I feel as though I am actually making my feelings known. We do not agree, I think. We do not condone. All of this is wrong.
Our short moment of rebellion is shattered by Haymitch Abernathy. He staggers across the stage and throws his arm around Katniss' shoulders. "Look at her!" he hollers drunkenly. "Look at this one! I like her!" I see Katniss wrinkle her nose, and I suspect he hasn't bathed in days. "Lots of..." he pauses, trying to think of the word. "Spunk!" he says triumphantly. "More than you!" he shouts, removing his arm from Katniss' shoulders and wobbling towards the edge of the stage. "More than you!" he shouts again, pointing directly at the camera.
I'm taken aback. Is he actually speaking to the Capitol? But I never find out, because just as he opens his mouth to say more, he leans a bit too far forward, falls off the stage and knocks himself unconscious. There's a vague, choking sound, and I back up to the stage to see Katniss using this distraction as an opportunity to compose herself. She takes a deep breath, puts on her expressionless face and stands up straight.
Effie clicks back to the center of the stage. Her wig is leaning severely to the right, and she holds one hand on it, trying to make it stay on her head. "What an exciting day!" she warbles. "But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!" Clearly flustered, she wobbles over to the bowl with the boy's names, and snatches the first one she touches. I feel myself tense. I don't even know what to hope for. She zips back to the center of the podium, and quickly unfolds the paper. I take a deep breath.
"Peeta Mellark!" she calls, and I freeze. I try to breathe, but I can't seem to remember how. Someone nudges me. I gasp, and start to move forward, my thoughts banging around the inside of my head. No, I want to scream. No, no this can't be happening! I thought I was experiencing the ultimate pain when I saw Katniss volunteer. I thought nothing worse could ever happen to me. There couldn't be anything more agonizing than watching my childhood sweetheart seal her own doom. But I was wrong. I am going to be forced into an arena with her and twenty-two other young people, and I am going to have to try and kill her. This...this is twice the pain. I wish I could just die right here, where I'm standing. I wish I could just get it over with.
There are tears in my eyes again, and I can barely keep them from spilling over my cheeks. As I move slowly up the steps, I look up and see her staring at me, an unreadable expression on her face. Do you remember? I want to ask her. Do you remember me? She looks away.
My feet are steady by the time I make it to the top of the stage. My breathing has slowed somewhat. When Effie calls for volunteers, there's a cold, painful silence. I'm not surprised. What Katniss did was rare, unheard of. My brothers love me, I know, but not that much. Not enough to sacrifice their lives for me. But Katniss...she volunteered for her sister, knowing it meant death. Or did she? Does she think she can win? I look over at her. Her face is it's usual blank stare, but beneath that, I see a flicker of something - determination. She's a fighter, I know. Maybe she can win. The gears start turning in my head.
By the time the mayor motions for us to shake hands, I have made my decision. I am not going to fight Katniss Everdeen. I am going to show her, once and for all, how much I love her. I am going to protect her. No, not just protect her. Save her.