No. No. Oh, dear God, please no. This can't be happening.

Sweet, tiny little Prim is heading to her death, I'm certain of it. My Little Duck who cried when I tried to make a meal out of that mangy old cat she brought home one day, who faithfully waters the little rosebush in our front yard every day.

I can't let this happen to her.

"Prim, no!" I yell.

I act before I think. Suddenly I find myself running, pushing through the crowd heedless of the people around me until I reach the aisle in the middle. The peace keepers start to converge on me, and I gasp for air.

"I volunteer!" I scream, trying desperately to be heard, because what happens if they don't hear me, if they take my sister away?

But they do hear, and the peace keepers let go of me. I rush to the stage and grab Prim, holding her firmly by the shoulders. Tears drip down her face, and she glares at me with an intensity I can't quite fathom.

"Katniss, you can't do this..."

"Yes, I can." Volunteering in our faction is considered to be the ultimate act of selflessness, and if the volunteer dies in the Games they are honored with a funeral, their casket decorated with white roses as a faction grieves. Not everyone has it in them to volunteer, and faction customs and family ties only go so far on Reaping Day.

"Prim, go find Mom," I order, just as Effie says, in a slightly flustered manner, "I think we have a volunteer."

Prim and I fall silent.

"Well, come on up, dear."

I detach myself from Prim and walk up the steps to the stage. I hear her scream my name again, and I look back in time to see Gale carry her away.

"I'm sorry, Prim," I whisper.

I step onto the stage and Effie grabs my arm, her sharp nails digging into my skin. I wince. "What's your name, dear?" She asks me.

I start to tell her, but my voice comes out scratchy and hoarse. I clear my throat, ignoring the prickling of tears behind my eyelids, and say, "Katniss Everdeen. From Abnegation."

Effie beams, and I have an incredibly selfish urge to slap that smile off her face. Her faction, if she had one, would value annoyance, because everything she does seems to be infuriating, down to the bright, crazy outfits and colors she wears.

"Well I bet my buttons that was your sister. Let's have a round of applause for Katniss Everdeen!"

To the everlasting credit of District Twelve, no one claps. Instead, they all touch three fingers on their left hand to their lips and raise them in a salute. It's an old gesture of the District, sometimes used at funerals. It means thank you, it means admiration, it means goodbye to someone you love.

Luckily, Effie reaches over to the boy's reaping ball, which gives me some time to compose myself. I'm nauseous again, praying that it isn't Gale. I could never hurt Gale...

"Uriah Pedrad." A Dauntless boy I don't know steps onto the stage and we shake hands. He has dark brown skin and eyes, and gives me a reassuring smile as we disappear into the Justice Building.

I wonder if he knows Gale.

The peace keepers take me to a room on the second floor. It's nicer than most places in District Twelve, with velvet chairs and a comfortable sofa. This is where I will say my goodbyes to my family.

I sit in one of the chairs and run my fingers over the soft fabric as I brace myself for the last goodbyes.