I enter the house with a new power, a new confidence.

A new hope.

I'm not so pathetic. Katniss can win this, and I don't just have to sit and watch. I can help. My mother gets up off the couch where she was talking quietly with Hazelle and comes over to me.
"Hello sweetheart." She says, and she holds me tight to her chest.

"Hi Mom." I sink into her warmth, and allow myself a blissful moment.

We are stronger than we were last time.

I remember seeing my mother broken for so long, never truly healed after my father had died, further torn apart when her daughter –the one thing keeping both of us alive- was sent off to die. But since Katniss came back, I notice a new strength in her.

She's not as broken anymore.

And I know, once and for all, that we're much better off going into these games than we were last year. We know what's coming; we've experienced the rollercoaster of emotions before, and we can prepare ourselves now. Which is so important, because now we have to fight as well.

"How'd it go?" she asks, her voice barely a whisper in my ear.

"Good." I giggle to myself. "I got them crying."

"Oh Prim." She bends over until her face is at my level, her mouth stretched in a wide smile. "I knew you could do it. Good job baby. I'm so proud of you." Her hands rest on my shoulders, and I look into her eyes. And that's when I realize…

My mother has changed.

She is a strong woman.

I only wish Katniss had seen that before she left.

Katniss never saw my mother as strong. To her, she was the one who almost let us die. The woman who abandoned us after our father died. A mother, who gave up, let go. Katniss lost respect and trust in my mother after that; and she still hasn't earned it back.

Katniss and my mother never really got close, even after the first games. Whereas I clung to my mother for support, Katniss never needed that. She pushed her away.

Looking at my mother now, I'm struck by how sad that truly is.

She gave up the life she knew for the man she loved, and then lost him. She was stuck here with the sum of her decisions, without the motivation for her choices. She had to face the consequences, without any of the positives. She had to stand-alone and raise two daughters. If that's not enough to make any one person break, then I don't know what is. But what astounds me so much about my mother is that she both broke and fixed herself. She's a healer, who managed to heal herself so she could help others, only to have her own daughter turn away.

I pull my mother back into a hug as tears prick the back of my eyes, but at the same time, warmth grows in my chest. Pride. Admiration.

She's stronger than she lets on.

I release her from my tight grip and she pulls me into the kitchen where the rest of the Hawthorne-Everdeen clan has gathered around the table doing homework. Posy pulls crayons across paper, drawing an abstract design, while Vick looks on disapprovingly. Rory watches me intently as I take the seat beside him, and reaches out for my hand. I grasp it tightly and smile over at him. He tilts his head as if to say 'Are you okay?' and I give a quick nod and squeeze his hand.

I turn and stare over at Posy's furious scribbles.

"Whatcha got there Posy?" I wonder aloud.

"I'm designing Katniss' dress for the interview," she states bluntly.

I stare at the furious scribbles of red, orange and yellow and smile as I can make out distinct flames.

"It doesn't look right though! Hmph." Posy cries as she throws a crayon careening past Rory's head.

"Posy. Manners. No throwing things." Hazelle reprimands.

"But it doesn't look right!" Posy cries, even more frustrated as she gestures furiously at the paper in front of her. "It doesn't look like fire!" Her face goes red.

"Here Pos, let me help." I offer, squeezing Rory's hand as I slip out of his grip and walk around the table. "Peeta taught me to paint a couple of times, and he showed me some of the colours and mixing and things. Let's see if we can make it look more like fire okay?"

She nods excitedly at me and scoots over in the seat so I can sit myself next to her.

I stare at the crazy scribbles and make out dark brown hair in a long braid, and a sort of torso enrobed in black before a furious cloud of red, orange and yellow engulfs the rest of the body. I smile as I add in some blue and white and slowly shape the flames so it seems to just caress Katniss' supposed bodice, instead of swallowing it. In the end, we're left with a dress that resembles a burning lump of coal, with a flame slowly spreading over it.

"It shimmers when she moves." Posy remarks. "All of her dresses do."

I smile and pull a piece of hair out of Posy's mouth. "It looks beautiful, it really does. Good job Posy."

"Do you think its what she'll actually wear?" she asks.

"I don't know."

I think back to the wedding dress fittings my sister underwent and for a moment I'm frozen with the fear that she'll go out on stage wearing one of those. Poor Peeta, I think. But then I realize that it would only win more sympathy votes from the audience, and my fears are calmed.

"Well. I think she'll look absolutely beautiful no matter what." Rory pipes in from across the table, giving me a shy smile.

"Absolutely stunning for the Capitol." I smile back.

We finish up the rest of our work and eat dinner silently, all patiently awaiting the interviews later that night.

Gale arrives in early, as all the miners are let out early for the mandatory viewing. He comes in black as pitch and I can't help but laugh as he trudges in, trailing soot, and Rory whispers in my ear "He looks like the boy who used to be on fire."

A poor joke, but I appreciate it all the same and I let out an appreciative laugh.

And so we find our regular places around the television, waiting for the show to begin, and I can't help but watch Gale.

I can't get the thought of him and Madge out of my head. I want to confront him, but I don't know what I'd say; or what I'd ask; or even what I want to know. I'm so confused as I stare at him, and I'm sure Rory must be worried, as I can't take my eyes off his older brother.

"Prim? You okay?" He asks, hushed.

"Uh yeah… fine." I smile in reply.

"Then why do you keep staring at Gale?"

"… I'll explain later." I reply.

I try to rationalize telling Rory what I know. Rory has been my confidant for a while, and I figure he knows Gale better than I do. I decide that I'll tell him after the Interviews. He deserves to know, and I wouldn't even try to keep something from him now.

I curl up into Rory's side and rest my head against his chest, closing my eyes for a few seconds. I allow myself a moment of quiet and peace before I see Katniss, and I prepare myself for seeing her on the screen.

And before I know it, the music plays and the tributes file on stage. I hold my breath until I see the brilliant white dress, covered in pearls, and a single tear drips from my eyes.

Katniss is wearing one of her wedding dresses on stage.

What makes it worse is that it's my favourite dress. The pearls shine as she walks and the veil holds back her hair, her radiant. The flowing sleeves gently drag across the floor as she walks, and the dress almost looks alive.

And she looks beautiful.

And then Peeta follows out in a tux, and I collapse in on myself.

This is the closest I'll get to seeing my sister on her wedding day, in a gorgeous white gown, walking down the aisle. Instead, she walks across the stage on a sort of death march, not smiling, almost crying in the pearl-embedded gown designed for her. This is all I will ever see of my sister in a wedding dress.

And it hurts so much.