A/N: Thank you again to my beta, xKatharosx, for the constant support, and fast beta-ing. Also, I would like to thank Firefox157 for the beyond kind reviews, and for the people who have favourited and followed this story. Thanks for the support! Thank you to all the people reading the story, but if you could please take 2 seconds to review, I would love you forever.
Just to let you guys know, I have a bunch of exams and stuff to study for, so I wont be able to update for at least 2 weeks. So, if I don't update, that is the reason. Please bear with me, and continue reading when I can put chapters up. Thank you so much.
On with the story...
I expect to feel scared, upset, or maybe even angry. Scared about what I'm going to face, upset about leaving my family, angry at fate for allowing my names to be picked. One in thousands, I think, the odds were in my favor. But nothing prepares me for what hits me. At first, its shock, but then I just feel… numb.
"Primrose?" Effie's eyes search the crowd for the female Tribute. For me.
Painfully slowly, the girls in my year spread apart, providing me a clear path to the aisle before the stage. My eyes flirt to their faces, searching for a rescue that I know in my heart won't come. Staring into their eyes, my feet robotically start to move, and I begin my slow shuffle towards the stage. Their expressions reveal pity, fear, sadness, and in some cases, relief; that it is me and not them.
As I reach the aisle, the cameras finally find me, and I see myself on the multitude of screens littering the District. My eyes are wide in horror, and I'm as pale as a ghost. Absentmindedly, my clenched fists release to tuck in my blouse. As I get closer to the foot of the stairs winding up to the stage, the whispers from the crowd grow louder. Echoes ringing through the District confirm what is running through my mind; it's unfair that a 12 year old is Reaped.
"Come on up dear," Effie's voice pierces through my thoughts. I can tell by her tone that she is getting annoyed because I am taking so long. As hard as I try to walk faster, the command won't go to my feet, and I continue my snail-like pace.
"Prim? Prim!" A hoarse voice breaks through the crowd, and my head snaps around, looking for owner.
Just as Katniss reaches the aisle, Peacekeepers surround her, shoving her back into the 16 year old section. "No. No!" Her voice is so full of pain in panic, it makes my heart hurt.
Finally, my blue eyes meet her grey ones. With one last push through the Peacekeepers, her mouth opens and oddly calmly says the words never heard before in District 12, "I volunteer as Tribute."
Effie Trinket claps her hands in glee, "looks like we have a volunteer!"
I remain frozen in my own little world until Katniss grabs my shoulders. "Prim, get out of here and go find mom." She says, eyes darting around the crowd.
Finally, I find my voice, "no!" It comes out quiet and hoarse, so I clear my voice and try again. "No."
I can't let Katniss die. Not for me. So, when I feel Gales strong arms close around my waist and lift me into the air, I start screaming. "No, no!" He is carrying me into the crowd as I watch Katniss begin her calm walk towards the stairs.
Suddenly, a realization comes hits me; Katniss can't go into the games. Everyone at the Hob rely's on her to bring in fresh game. Also, with Gale going into the mines next year, Rory will be left alone to figure out how to hunt and provide for his family as well as mine. I can not do that to Rory. Katniss has to stay, everyone needs her. Sure, my ability to heal is important too, but mom could easily take my place.
Pushing as hard as I can on Gales shoulders, I manage to escape his death grip he has on my waist. Landing crouched on the rocky gravel; I take off running towards Katniss.
Grabbing the bow at the back of her dress, I say the words meaning my death. "No Katniss, I am going into the Hunger Games."
Her eyes look down on me, pleading. "No Prim, I could never let you do this. I'll go… and I'll win. Then I will come straight home. It will be like I was never gone." She is trying to convince my, but the doubt in her voice hinders her success.
"Ladies! Ladies!" Effie's voice breaks through our argument, "I believe there is a protocol for volunteering; we have to umm… call the Reaped person to the stage… and then ask for umm…"
Our mayor who has not said a word all day breaks her rambling, "Just let her volunteer Ms. Trinket." There is a sense of pain in his voice, it is like he knows Katniss.
Effie's mouth drops open in awe, "that is certainly not how we do things her!" She says in disbelief. "There are rules, and we are going to do this right and follow them."
A Peacekeeper steps onto the stage and hands her a booklet. "Yes, here we are, "she begins, "The individual Reaped comes to the stage, then volunteers are asked to step forward. If one does not in under a minute, the Reaped shall be declared Tribute."
Ignoring Effie, I go up one step on the stone staircase, and utter what has to be the biggest lie I have ever told, "I want to be a Tribute in the 74th annual Hunger Games. I want to." My voice cracks at the last part, and I wince. No one will be convinced by that statement.
Soon after, doubt creeps into my mind, I can't do this; what am I thinking? But Katniss can win, she is strong, and she can hunt. My breathing quickens, and I soon start to have a panic attack.
Her smokey grey eyes hold my blue ones, and her whole body radiates a sense of victory. "No Prim, I volunteer." There is fierceness in her voice that I have never heard before. She confidently mounts the stairs, and goes to stand next to Effie on the stage.
I remain paralyzed on the first step of the stair, feeling both relief and guilt. I'm not a Tribute. However, Katniss is.
"I'm sorry, but the allotted minute for volunteering has long since passed," Effie's voice sounds upset, but her face shows she could care less.
"No," Katniss's barely audible voice whispers.
Confusion sweeps through me; she is not allowed to volunteer? Then I realize. I am a Tribute in the dreaded Hunger Games.
"Come onto the stage Primrose." Peacekeeper's are dragging Katniss away, her face full of disbelief.
I mount the stairs, but almost trip because I am so panicked. I can't win the Hunger Games! I should of let Katniss take my place at the beginning. I don't want to die! However, in a way, it is better that Katniss couldn't volunteer for me. Now I know that Rory, Vic, Posy, Gale, and their mom will go to bed with full stomachs. Now I know that mother will be ok. I hold on to the idea that the right thing happened, so that I don't cry as I take my spot beside Effie.
I try to keep the fear in my eyes under control; I don't want the other Tributes clueing in on my fear. Every year, Katniss and Gale re-watch the Reapings, as is mandatory, and pick out the weaker ones by their emotion control on the stage. So that is what I am now, I realize. A Tribute in the feared Hunger Games. Whatever happens, I will not be labeled as a weakling. With a new found determination, I try even harder to keep my emotions in check.
"Well, " Effie's voice sounds cheerfull, "I bet that was your sister, wasn't it?"
"Yes," I say in shock. When I see myself on one of the big screens, I am glad to see that I look anxious not scared, and bouncing in anticipation, instead of shaking like a leaf in fear. I don't see how Katniss hides her emotions so well, it is hard!
"Let's choose the boy!" I can tell Effie is excited to finally have some action. My shaking stops and I remain frozen as a stone, waiting for my competition to be announced. As long as it is not Gale or Rory, I'll be ok. But than again, my luck hasn't been that great today.
"Peeta Mallark," she says in a loud clear voice.
Peeta Mallark… The name sound familiar, but I don't know from where. However, when a blond haired, blue eyed, muscular boy separates from the 16 year old section, I remember. He is the baker's son. The one who ices the cakes I love to look at through the bakery window.
Silently, he walks out into the isle, up the stairs, and onto the stage, shock prominent on his face. When Effie asks for volunteers, the square remains as silent as a cemetery. I think I remember him having 2 older brothers, but one must be too old to volunteer, and the other just wont. Family ties are only so tight when it comes to the Reaping. What Katniss did for me happens once in a blue moon.
Effie tells us to shake hands, and when we do, I'm surprised. His strong hands are strangely gentle. When our eyes meet, his reflect fright, doubt, sadness, but above all, pity. When the anthem begins, signifying the end of the Reaping, I am left to ponder his expression. Why does he feel bad for me? We are in the same shoes after all. His kindness calms my nerves a bit, and when I see him glimpse at me from the corner of my eye, I give him a small smile to make him feel better.
As the last few notes of the anthem ring in my ears, Effie ushers us into the grey stone Justice building for good byes. Keeping my composure, I get ready to face the longest hour of my life.
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