Katniss POV
It's been 15 years since the last Hunger Games. 15 years after President Coins' death, 10 years after I failed to kill President Snow, 15 years after Greasy Sae told me Gale was with another girl. I have Peeta now, though. But it still feels like my heart has been ripped out of my chest, stomped on, mended with duct tape, and shoved back where it belongs.
But I have to stay strong.
For me, for Peeta, for my kids, and my mother.
For Panem.
I will not cry in the face of anybody, I must keep it inside. No one will have the privilege of claiming that I'm weak.
I have to keep it inside.
"I just have to," I mutter to myself. Loud enough that Peeta stirs next to me.
"What's that?" he says, wiping the sleep out of his eyes.
"Nothing," he turns over on the mattress, making the bed squeak with his sudden movement.
"You look tired. Lie down, lie down," he pushes my head down on the soft plush pillow.
"Wake me if Emi starts to cry again," I inform him, looking across the hall, staring at the 10-year-old snoring softly in her room.
"Alright," he promises. My eyes flutter close and I allow the dreams to rush into my head.
I catch sight of the backside of a girl with a blouse on, the end of it sticking out like a ducktail. Prim. No, no, no. She's too young for this, too young for the games.
"I volunteer!" I gasp. Heads turn to let their eyes stare at me. Gale looks a little green. "I volunteer as tribute!" I walk swiftly up to my eleven-year-old sister and push her behind me. Her fingernails dig into my palms.
"Katniss Everdeen," she drawls in President Snows' voice.
My body goes rigid I I collapse to the ground, my temple gushing out blood as it meets the town squares' concrete floor.
Peeta POV
I can tell she feels guilty. Don't ask why.
I can just tell.
Katniss, the girl who was on fire lost everything.
Prim.
Her mom.
Her dad.
Cinna.
Gale.
She has you, I hear my brain protest weakly. But...
I'm not enough.
I turned on her, said she was a mutt. I'm the mutt here.
But for some strange reason...
She still loves me.
I wish she didn't, it just makes it harder to tell her. Harder to say the most important thing, the thing that can change everything.
The reaping is next month.
The death note.
The murderer in a game.
The reminder.
Call it what you want, but everyone knows the real name.
The Hunger Games.
Hello, baby foodies! So, I decided to let you guys read this over to help with the vote. Do you want me to continue or not? Comment!
