Hi everybody, I'm back with another chapter! You all deserved a chapter that comes out quicker than usual after how long it took to get my last chapter out, so here it is! I'm going to try to get out at least one chapter per week from now on. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.

She runs through the forest, not knowing where to go. The woods that were once her savior have now turned against her. Every fallen log and every exposed tree root just proves to be another obstacle to test her waning energy. Her legs threaten to give out at any moment, one wrong move and she is dead. The boy with the spear that is right behind her shows no signs of stopping.

Then a rock seems to have come out of thin air and she stumbles until she is laying on her back. The boy with the spear hovers over her tauntingly as she lays there steely eyed, knowing what's going to happen next. His huge frame towers over her as she takes deep breaths, trying to regain the breath she lost while running. But it's no use, these breaths will be her last anyways.

The boy takes his spear and places it inches above her heart and keeps it there, trying to get a reaction. He doesn't get one. She just stares at him with eyes of steel, not giving him what he wants. He brushes his dark hair out of his eyes and lifts his spear to give the final blow. She stares him straight in the eyes, even as the weapon is inserted into her abdomen. She will not give him the satisfaction of making her cry out in agony. She will not let him laugh at her cries for mercy. She will not let the Capitol find her death entertaining.

Even as life starts to flee from her eyes, she stays silent. Her quiet death will show that the Capitol cannot control her. She will show them that they don't own her. She won't just be another piece of their games. She will die as herself.

And she does exactly that.

I jolt awake, hoping to see the familiar face that is always at my side whenever I wake up from a nightmare, but all I find is rough canvas sheets. Then I recall the events of my nightmare and start freaking out all over again. It was like I was really watching my sister die from a birds eye view. It was too real. Even the way she laid there and didn't show that she was in pain, seemed all too real.

Then I remember that that may be her in less than a week.

I know that now I will not be able to fall asleep again so I get up and head to the main room. I find my mother sitting on our small beige couch in front of our Capitol mandated television, watching a recap of the reapings. She looks up at me with her red rimmed eyes and motions me to come sit next to her. I obey her and let her wrap her arms around me as we watch.

Only a handful of the tributes stick out to me, like the guy volunteer from District 2, who towers over almost everybody else at the reaping. The other tribute from District 2 also sticks in my head, the way she immediately volunteers, and the way she and her fellow tribute celebrate like going to fight twenty three other kids to the death, is the best thing in the world.

There is a boy from District 10 with some sort of leg injury and he has to use a cane to get up the steps at District 10's reaping. I feel pity for him because he is at a great disadvantage. He is probably going to be a bloodbath death, which hurts to think about because they haven't started the Games yet.

Then comes District 11, where a boy who looks to be even larger than the kid from District 2, is called. Then comes the girl tribute. She is probably twelve years old but looks like she is hardly over nine years old. Her tiny frame makes it painfully obvious that she doesn't have much of a chance against all the bigger and older tributes. I come to the quick realization that without Katniss, that would have been me.

I quickly turn away from the television and bury my face into my mother's shirt.

"That would have been me," I sob.

She shushes me softly and runs her hand through my long, blonde hair.

I hear my mom whisper that it's time for District 12. This one is bound to be the worst one I am going to watch, because it was hard enough being there in person.

I hear my name get called and watch as I near the stairs. Then Katniss is calling my name. I inch closer to my mom as if she can shield me from what's on the television. Katniss is then saying that she volunteers as tribute and I'm screaming and clinging to her waist. Then comes Gale, who picks me up as if I weigh nothing but a feather. They zoom in on me sobbing into my mother's chest. The funny thing is that I'm doing the same thing as I'm doing on the screen.

Then they show Effie trotting over to the boys bowl and picking out a paper slip with the name, Peeta Mellark on it. They show him breaking away from a few friends in the crowd and climbing the stairs to the stage. I notice this time around that his eyes stay on Katniss the entire time he is on stage, and the same goes for her.

Then it's over. My mom turns the television off and lets me sob into her lap. She brushes through my hair with her calloused fingers, worn from use. As I start to calm down the sun begins to rise, it's rays spreading light into our normally dark house.

My mother asks if I would like to stay home from school today and I answer with an immediate "Yes". The Capitol allows the families of the tributes to have the day after the reaping off of school or work (if they please). And besides, I don't think that I'm ready for all the sorrys and words of sympathy that the family members of a kid who was reaped get.

So my mother and I stay at home. We try to do a ton of chores and such just to keep our minds off of the fact that Katniss should be in the Capitol right about now. The television is running throughout the day with interviews with some Capitol people who play a big role in the production of the Hunger Games. They also show highlights from the reapings. The story of a girl in one of the outlying districts volunteering for her sister, is apparently huge in the Capitol. This makes me think that there is some hope that my sister will make it home alive. If the story stays big then there will just have to be sponsors who want to give gifts to "The Girl Who Saved Her Sister" (what the media is calling Katniss).

I'm on the couch, watching an interview with the Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane, when there is a soft knock on the door.

My mother yells at me from the other room to answer it. I cautiously go over to the door, because most families don't like to be around people after their child has been reaped and everyone knows that. When I open the door I find the most unexpected person standing right in front of me.

"What are you doing here Mr. Mellark?" I ask loudly so hopefully my mom can hear.

"You can just call me Christopher. And I brought some bread," he says holding out a loaf of bread.

I may not be as stubborn as my sister but I do know not to accept pity gifts.

"I think we'll be fine without it, but thank you for the thought, Christopher," I say hesitantly because the smell coming off the bread is heavenly.

My mother comes over to me right as I say this, and asks the baker why he is here.

"I'm here to see if you both would like to have supper with me. I brought some bread," he says holding out the bread again.

I look at my mother questioningly to see if she will accept.

She answers with a quick, "Come on in, Christopher."

My mom tells me to get some of the cheese that I made from Lady's milk, and bring it to her so we can have it with the bread. So I go into the chilling box where we keep all the goat milk and cheese, and pull out a small thing of cheese. When I walk back to give the cheese to my mom I see that she and the baker are already seated at the table and are talking in hushed voices. I decide to go straight to them instead of standing around the corner eavesdropping, because they wouldn't be talking in hushed voices if they were okay with me hearing what they have to say.

When I reach the table they immediately stop talking and watch me sit down without speaking. I hand the cheese to my mother as Mr. Mellark watches us from across the table with sadness very evident in his dull blue eyes.

Christopher slices the bread and gives us each a piece. I smear some cheese on the light bread and hum happily when I take a bite into the delightful food. We don't speak for most of the meal which is fine with me because that means I have more time to eat the delicious bread.

After we have all finished eating the baker asks us if we are open to do it again tomorrow night and my mother answers yes immediately. Before he leaves we insist that he takes some cheese with him in exchange for the bread. Then he leaves out the front door leaving us alone again. I won't lie, the company was a nice distraction off of the Games, although it's his son who is going into the Hunger Games with my sister.

I pull the chair out from beside my mom and sit, taking her hand in mine.

"Hey mom, do you know why Mr. Mellark came over? I mean isn't it odd because his son is going into the Games with Katniss and we barely know him," I ask my mom.

"Me and Christopher go way back, Honey," she answers simply.

I assume that they were probably friends in the town before she moved to the Seam. They would pretty much have to be because Mrs. Mellark would most definitely not approve of her husband being friendly to someone who lives in the Seam. This makes me wonder how he was able to come in the first place, but I conclude that he probably lied to her about where he's been.

I stand up, leaving my mom who is staring at the wall, and clean up the table. I grab the tree plates and wash them in the sink. It feels like I'm just cleaning up after a normal supper where we ate some of the game that Katniss had caught that day and sat all together at the table. But we may never have those suppers ever again. I quit scrubbing and rub my temples where a headache is starting to form from thinking about the future.

When I finish all of the dishes I walk over to the table to see my mother in the same position as earlier and staring at the wall still. I know that I can't let her slip away from me again, so I get down on my knees right in front of her and take her head in my small hands. Then I start to speak.

"You can't leave now, Mom. You did so good yesterday. Listen to what Katniss said," I beg her, "Please mom, stay with me."

Her blue eyes begin to lose their fog that they had collected. Then she grabs me and pulls me into her. She squeezes me with so much force that I find it difficult to breathe.

"I'm so sorry, Prim. I couldn't help it, I'm sorry," she whispers, her lips brushing my ear.

I know that she can't help it, that's why I forgive her so fast. She lets me hold her for a few minutes. I brush through her thin and graying hair with my fingers like she does with me when I need comforting.

After my mother has pretty much gotten out of her episode I go to our medicine cabinet and grab a container of small tablets. I grab them and bring them over to my mother.

"Antidepressant?" she says, raising her eyebrows in question.

"They came right before the reaping from the Capitol. It should work better than the ones you have now," I answer.

"I know that we got them but why are you giving them to me?" she asks.

I set my hand on her shoulder and reply, "You're going to need them for the upcoming weeks, Mom."

She looks at the pills in her hand and says, "Thank you, Prim."

"You're welcome. I'm going to bed," I tell her.

"Okay, Prim."

I go to the bathroom and clean off my father's shaving mirror like I do most nights. He didn't like how there was always a layer of coal dust over every inch of the Seam, so in some way cleaning this mirror always makes me feel closer to him.

After I finish cleaning the mirror and brushing my teeth I go to the bedroom and get in bed. My cat Buttercup comes and snuggles with me again tonight but tonight I don't cry because I have a newfound hope for Katniss. So when I tell myself that 'She can win' I actually believe it.

I hope you enjoyed reading this! Please leave a review if you can, I love hearing from you all. Stay safe and healthy! :)