It had been 2 months since I had found the box. The meer sight of it sent cold shivers crawling down my back. It was her. It was her life and thoughts, crammed into a crumbling box and shoved in a corner to rot. I had only read one letter before, but it was enough to spike my curiosity. My mother had never spoken of Prim; it did not feel right to call her my aunty even though that's who she was. I know she is dead, but that is where the information stops. That was all I was ever told. But now was the time for answers.

My shaking hands unfolded the soft cardboard. I stared at the piles of paper and books. It didn't feel right, to be doing this. But it was what I needed to do. A loud boom echoed through the small attic, dad had probably gone to bed, to be with mum. I pictured her crying again, I needed to know why.

The first pile was letters, from the towns people; they were.. apologising? Numerous ones spoke of a place called the hub, where mum used to.. trade?

The next was from a girl called Madge. My eyes scanned it realizing what it had said. It spoke about the Mockingjay badge. The badge that had been sitting in my jewellery box ever since I was a little girl. Mum had given it to me to keep me safe. I placed the letter aside and yet again rifled through the box. At the very bottom laid a small black covered book. The pages were yellow and the writing was dim and worn out, but it was readable. My fingers found a page dated at the time of the reaping. My eyes couldn't help but explore the page as curiosity drew me in.

'I'm scared. I cannot be sure what is going to happen, and yet even the possibility of going is sending shivers along my spine. Katniss is not here and that makes things worse. Mother tried to smile but the weight of the unknowing factor is too great to explain. I try to tell myself that it will not be me. My hands are even shaking as I write this. And I cannot even bare to think of the chance that Katniss will be facing. What will I do if her name is called? How will I live without her, and what will happen to mother? There are so many things that no one can answer, but I'm scared everything will change and I may lose what I love.'

The page finished there. My stomach swirled with pain, the words sinking into my mind. This was her diary. Her thoughts, her feelings, this was her. She would tell me her story. She would show me what happened. But more importantly she would finally be heard.