Dear Fanfiction,
I do not love Rory, nor Cato, nor Peeta, nor Gale. I am not in love- at the moment. For the love of Peeta, I'm thirteen years old! I'm not going to magically fall in love with some Mary-Sue OC, or a guy who's five to six years older than me and in love with my sister. I'm a tad offended. Isn't there more problems to worry about at the moment than love? And I'M DEAD. I DIED. Seriously. The only boy who is in my life- well, used to be- is Buttercup.
"Hey, Prim."
Rory? Is that you? *Squeals girlishly* Wait up!
From an in-denial,
Prim-Rose Everdeen.
A/N: This doesn't make much sense, but oh well.
