Hey guys! Here's chap. 3! If you have time, please review! I've gotten one so far, and that alone made me finish this chap today! So yes they do work wonders for me!
Anyways The Hunger Games belong to Suzanne Collins and Scholastic. I'm just writing a fanfic. Please enjoy this, though! If you don't like it just tell me and I'll do what I can to change it!
CHAPTER 3
When I wake up, I know right away it's late in the day. When did I end up falling asleep? I stayed up all night thinking about whether to make my own nightmares or let Prim try them out for herself in the Capitol. I'm no closer to an answer now than I was when the Quell was first announced. I'm going to be questioning this until the moment my name is called at the reaping. But deep down, when I imagine myself in that scenario, I am still praying Prim does not volunteer.
I sit up in my bed and stretch. The birds are still chirping outside my window, and I wonder what it would be like to be so free to fly away whenever I wanted. That kind of freedom would never happen here in Panem.
I push that thought out of my head, not wanting to spoil such a nice, well, afternoon. I walk into the bathroom and still marvel at its beauty. When I first came here almost a year ago I was shocked. The bathroom alone is bigger than my house in the Seam, and the bathtub and sink and mirrors all still shine like the Capitol. I splash some water on my face and dry it with a towel. I trudge out of my room and down the stairs, still feeling the effects of last night's terror. When I step into the kitchen, I can see Prim, my mother, Peeta, Gale and Haymitch sitting at the table. Since when did my house become District Twelve Tribute Headquarters?
My mother speaks first. "Have a good rest, sweetheart?"
"Sweetheart" sounds so different when my mother says it. "What time is it, anyway?"
This time it's Peeta who answers. "About 1:30. We were going to wake you up if you didn't come down soon. We've decided to train as a group for the Games."
"What?" I ask, dumfounded. I stare at everyone at the table. When I get to my mother, she looks down. Prim stares back defiantly. Gale looks at me, and I can see the pain in his eyes. Haymitch's are still red from his event last night, and Peeta has a similar look to Prim's. "Why would we do that?" I ask.
"Because," explains Gale, "we figured that if we couldn't stop Prim from volunteering, and we don't know if Peeta or Haymitch is going in, we might as well work together." Well, that much I could have deduced myself.
"Does that mean that no matter who goes, there's an alliance in District Twelve?" I question.
"Basically, yes," answers Haymitch. Well, I guess this is somewhat comforting.
"You must be hungry," says my mother, and with that I nod and sit at the table. My mother begins to whip up a huge brunch for all of us, and we eat until we're stuffed. If we're going to train anyway, we might as well get all the energy we can.
CHAPTER 3.5
As I walk over to the roped off section for past victors, I keep glancing around at those who've been tied in to this. Peeta's family stands off to the side. My family stands away from my side of the victor's holding pen, and Gale and his family stand at the head of rest of District Twelve. I arrive at my station, and wait for the reaping to begin. I can see everyone's faces- the merchants, the people of the Seam, everyone. And they're all the same. Disappointed. Angry. Sad. If the Hunger Games weren't enough, then this year's Quarter Quell is too much. I turn away from their anguished faces for fear of letting tears slip.
"Well, let's get this started, shall we?" prompts Effie Trinket. "First, let's have Mayor Undersee read off our Treaty of Treason." You can count on Effie to be completely oblivious to her surrounding's feelings.
As the Mayor drones on and on, I can't help glaring at Prim. While she may have excelled with her physical training, I try to do everything I can to discourage her from volunteering for me. I focus my attention on Effie, with her hair dyed bright yellow this time, and a sky blue jumpsuit covering her from knee to neck. She stands on a medium sized stage, with only two chairs behind her this time. All of the mentors are being reaped.
Effie sees that Mayor Undersee has finished his speech, and all but hops over to the girls' reaping bowl. Seeing the single slip of paper in it makes this whole event seem anticlimactic.
"Ladies first!" She reaches in and fishes out my name. "Katniss Everdeen."
I clench my fists and stare down my sister as I walk up to the stage. When I climb up the steps, I think I'm safe to risk my life again. But because Effie has to say something that is horrible every time I see her, she adds, "Are there any family members that wish to volunteer for Ms. Everdeen?"
My eyes shoot to Prim, not even bothering to glare at her. Instead, I try to make them look as pleading as possible. Surely she can't volunteer for me now.
But she does. "I would like to volunteer for her," states Prim, and with that she glides up to the stage as if this is no big deal.
"No!" I manage to choke out. Why do I feel so horrible now? We've been training for the past four months with her volunteering for me always in my mind. "You can't, Prim! You can't!"
"Go, Katniss. It's my turn now." Prim isn't faltering.
"No!" I yell, before I feel Gale's arms grab me. I resist, but they're too strong and end up carrying me over to my mother. "Prim!" I scream.
"Now, what's your name?" I vaguely hear Effie ask.
"Primrose Everdeen," declares Prim.
"I knew you'd volunteer. Can't let your older sister take all the glory for a second time, right?" Effie says. I grimace and see Prim do the same. Still, she's trying not to show any emotions. I cannot believe she volunteered for me. After all I've done to protect her!
"All right, now for the boys." Effie saunters over to the reaping ball with two pieces of paper in it. I don't have time to wonder who I would rather it be when she's reading the name.
"Peeta Mellark."
I exhale loudly, realizing I've been holding my breath. Well? Is this good news or bad news? I rack my brain for an answer but come up with none. All of a sudden, a women's scream slices through the air.
"No, Crist, no!" I whip my head around and find Peeta's nefarious mother clinging on to her eldest son's arm. The baker forces her off and Crist walks forward.
"I volunteer as tribute," say Crist, brushing past Peeta as if he were a piece of paper. Peeta seems too shocked to react.
"My, my, my! Two volunteers for District Twelve! This sure is an exciting reaping!" Effie can't contain her excitement. Maybe she might actually get promoted to a decent district next year. Mayor Undersee finishes off the reaping, and Peacekeepers escort Prim and Crist Mellark to the Justice Building. My mother, Gale, and Peeta's family follow. Haymitch, Peeta and I go in the opposite direction, towards the trains. Peeta and I let Haymitch take the lead, fall a few steps behind him and start madly whispering. There are going to be two main mentors- Peeta and I. But because we won the Games just last year, Haymitch will be our mentor for the first few that we are in. So if we try to plot anything without telling him, both of our siblings will suffer. It would be better if we had Haymitch's planning skills to help us.
"What do you propose we do, Katniss?" Peeta asks. He keeps his voice low so as not to alert Haymitch.
I'm still distraught over Prim volunteering. "What can we do? We should just mentor them like we're supposed to."
"Are you sure our relations to the tributes won't distract us?"
I look at him. How is he phrasing that so calmly?
"Well, what are we going to do?" I ask, repeating his question. "Decide between the two of them who deserves to live more?" Peeta flicks his eyes on the ground below him. I didn't mean to hurt him; I'm just confused and angry about Prim, about Crist, about the Capitol's torturous Games.
"Maybe I should mentor Crist, you mentor Prim and we keep their training to ourselves," suggests Peeta. Now I'm shocked.
My mind is too muddled with deciding who's sibling is more important, so all I manage to choke out is, "What?"
Peeta shifts his eyes onto me. They're burning with determination. "You heard me, Katniss. We mentor them separately. Whoever wins, wins separately. No. Alliances."