Hey this story was written by rainstorm just to let you know and I hope it's good! Might be deleted if I can't think of anything to do anyway please keep reading and reviewing and I hope this turns out to be the best Hunger Games story you've ever read!

By the way I don't own Hunger Games!

(In Prim's POV)

CHAPTER1

The Reaping

I woke up that morning in my mother's bed and immediately saw that Katniss was gone. I knew that she would probably be out with Gale hunting and gathering and I knew she would be safe but I wanted her with me on this terrible day.

Which day is this? Oh, well, this is the day of the reaping and I Primrose Everdeen, just twelve years old and today I will face one the most terrible trails in my entire life. The Reaping. The Reaping is almost a contest it is a draw to pick which person shall go to the capitol this year and be slaughtered. All the names of children between 12 and 18 have their names entered for The Reaping and although I only have my name in there once I'm still worried I'll be picked. Does that make me a coward? No. Of course not but in district 12 the word tribute means corpse. No one in district 12 has won for ages and that defiantly shows. I cuddle Buttercup, my cat he's no beauty what with his squashed up nose, half ear and mangy yellow eyes but I love him and I think well, he loves me back. I get up slowly trying not to wake mother and I creep downstairs to see if Katniss is back yet, she's not so I tiptoe back upstairs but there's no point mother's already up she's sitting absentmindedly on the bed stroking buttercup. When I walk in she turns her head to look at me.

"Prim." She says "Prim we need to get you ready." I don't need to ask what she means it's the reaping that's what I need to be ready for.

"Ok." I reply with no enthusiasm. Well who would have any? What a stupid question! The careers of course those brutes the ones who have been trained all their lives for the Hunger Games no one in district 12 is a career only the rich districts have them like 1, 2 and 4 district 12 hates them they're unfaithful but I have to stop thinking like this. I get dressed into Katniss's first reaping outfit it's too big though and as mother's trying to tuck the back in Katniss walks through the door and dumps her bag on the small table and past right by us then got into the bath we had filled for her.

After a while she got out and went to the beds and I saw her pick up my mother's only fine dress it was lilac blue with matching shoes, she holds it up and says "are you sure?"

"Of course. Let's put your hair up too." She towel dries it and braids it up on the top of Katniss's head.

"You look beautiful" I say in a hushed voice

"And nothing like myself." She replies hugging me I'm worried for her with her name in the reaping 24 times I'm pretty safe my name is only in there once so it's pretty unlikely I'll be chosen.

My blouse has become un-tucked at the back again Katniss smoothes it down,

"Tuck your tail in little duck!" she teases

"Quack!" I giggle

"Quack yourself!" she replies with a light laugh the kind only I can draw out of her.

"Come on let's eat." She says and gives me a quick kiss on the top of my head. We walk downstairs together and I see the greens and fish that Katniss brought home already cooking in a stew but we'll have that for supper. And we decide to leave the strawberries and bakery bread for the evening meal so for now we have milk from my goat Lady and we at the rough bread made by tessera grain I certainly don't have much appetite.

At one o'clock we head for the square. Attendance is compulsory unless you are to sick to leave your bed. Officials come round to see if anyone is still in their homes if so they are immediately imprisoned. It's a pity, I think, that the reaping has to be held in the square. It's surrounded by shops making it one of the few pleasant places in District 12. There are bright banners hung all around the square but it does nothing to help lift the mood no one is ever happy at the Reaping why would they be? And nothing is private either there are camera crews perched on top of buildings adding to the effect.

People silently file in the children all have their heads down and shuffle their feet unwilling to take those steps, steps that might lead them to their death. I'm near the back being 12 and I can't see over the heads of the taller, older children in front of me. I look round and see all the families of the eligible kids lined up holding each others hands seeking what little comfort they can get. But there are others too people with no loved ones or have been to so many reapings that they no longer care it's these people who are passing bets around on which child will be chosen. As I'm thinking Effie Trinket has climbed on stage. Personally I think she's rather scary with bright white teeth and neon pink hair even her spring green suit seems garish in the soot covered streets of district 12. Just as the town clock strikes two, the mayor steps up to the podium and begins to read. It's the same story every year.

He tells of the history of Panem, the country that rose up out of the ashes of a place that was once called North America. He lists the disasters, the droughts, the storms, the fires; the encroaching seas that swallowed up so much of the land, the brutal war for what little sustenance remained. The result was Panem, a shining Capitol ringed by thirteen districts, which brought peace and prosperity to its citizens. Then came the Dark Days, the uprising of the districts against the Capitol. Twelve were defeated, the thirteenth obliterated. The Treaty of Treason gave us the new laws to guarantee peace and, as our yearly reminder that the Dark Days must never be repeated, it gave us the Hunger Games. The rules of the Hunger Games are simple. In punishment for the uprising, each of the twelve districts must provide one girl and one boy, called tributes, to participate. The twenty-four tributes will be imprisoned in a vast outdoor arena that could hold anything from a burning desert to a frozen wasteland. Over a period of several weeks, the competitors must fight to the death. The last tribute standing wins. Taking the kids from our districts, forcing them to kill one another while we watch — this is the Capitol's way of reminding us how totally we are at their mercy. How little chance we would stand of surviving another rebellion. Whatever words they use, the real message is clear. "Look how we take your children and sacrifice them and there's nothing you can do. If you lift a finger, we will destroy every last one of you. Just as we did in District Thirteen." To make it humiliating as well as torturous, the Capitol requires us to treat the Hunger Games as a festivity, a sporting event pitting every district against the others. The last tribute alive receives a life of ease back home, and their district will be showered with prizes, largely consisting of food. All year, the Capitol will show the winning district gifts of grain and oil and even delicacies like sugar while the rest of us battle starvation.

"It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks," intones the mayor. Then he reads the list of past District 12 victors. In seventy-four years, we have had exactly two. Only one is still alive. Haymitch Abernathy, a paunchy, middle-aged man, who at this moment appears hollering something unintelligible, staggers onto the stage, and falls into the third chair. He's drunk. Very. The crowd responds with its token applause, but he's confused and tries to give Effie Trinket a big hug, which she barely manages to fend off. The mayor looks distressed. Since all of this is being televised, right now District 12 is the laughingstock of Panem, and he knows it. He quickly tries to pull the attention back to the reaping by introducing Effie Trinket. Bright and bubbly as ever, Effie Trinket trots to the podium and gives her signature, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" Her pink hair must be a wig because her curls have shifted slightly off center since her encounter with Haymitch. She goes on a bit about what an honor it is to be here, although everyone knows she's just aching to get bumped up to a better district where they have proper victors, not drunks who molest you in front of the entire nation It's time for the drawing. Effie Trinket says as she always does, "Ladies first!" and crosses to the glass ball with the girls' names. She reaches in, digs her hand deep into the ball, and pulls out a slip of paper. The crowd draws in a collective breath and then you can hear a pin drop, and I'm feeling nauseous and so desperately hoping that it's not me. Effie Trinket crosses back to the podium, smoothes the slip of paper, and reads out the name in a clear voice. And suddenly I know what's going to happen a moment before it does.

"Primrose Everdeen!"

A/n what did you think?

Rainstorm: hey you may know me from warriors but if not I say hi! And I have new partners for this story dshanti and minimouse!

Dshanti: yeh! We're Rainstorms friends I've actually read The Hunger Games but minimouse here hasn't!

Minimouse: yeh! But I think Rainstorm is such a great author that I already understand it!

Rainstorm: (looks embarrassed) yes… well… anyway people reading this I'd like to say: thanks for reading and please read more oh! And review yes I need lotsa reviews!