Three

The moment the anthem ends, we are taken into custody. Not with handcuffs, obviously, but a group of Peacekeepers marches us through the front door of the Justice Building. Was it possible that tributes have tried to escape in the past? That's not very difficult to imagine.

Once inside, I can barely look at Rory when I'm conducted to a room and left alone. It's the richest place I've ever been in, with thick, deep carpets and a velvet couch and chairs. I know velvet because my mother has a dress with a collar made of the stuff. I sit on the couch, apprehensive about what I'm about to face. Not the games, but the good-bye hour. The time allotted for the tributes to say goodbye to their loved ones. And I'm determined not to cry. Not because of the cameras, though. It's partly because of myself, and partly for the sake of my family. As much as I want to prove that I'm not weak, my family is more important. After all I did to stop Katniss from being on the Games, it would be very contradictory to make her and Mom see me suffering.

My sister and my mother are the first to come. Katniss runs and embraces me desperately, as if I can turn into a pile of ashes any minute. My mother sits beside me and wraps her arms around us. And we stay there in silence. There's no need to say anything.

Katniss eventually lets go of me. She looks right into my eyes. I know what's coming. She isn't teary, but I know that she is fighting very hard not to cry.

"Why, Prim?" she asks. She doesn't have anything to add, but I know exactly what she's talking about. She feels like I have thrown away all these years in which she has protected me. She doesn't want to say it, but she thinks I will not last long in the arena. Forests terrify me and I can't see anyone being murdered without thinking that I might be able to heal them. In other words, just like I had thought, she indeed thinks I'm a weakling.

"I cannot be your little sister forever, Katniss," I tell her, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. "I'm thankful for everything you've done for me. But I have to stand up for myself someday. Plus, I've never done anything for you."

"Being alive is the most precious gift you can ever give me," Katniss tells me, now really struggling to stay strong. For me. She doesn't ever stop doing things for me. "And you decide to stand up for yourself now? In the reaping?"

I look at her. "You don't think I'll come back," I say. It's not a question, it's a sentence. She doesn't even try to deny it. "You're the hunter and I'm the healer. You're the bold and I'm the timid. I agree. But you've seen me today. Do I still look like that scared little girl?" Katniss doesn't say anything, so I go on. "And I've decided to stand up for myself in the reaping, yes. I couldn't bear having to watch you in the Games."

"And now you've made us all watch your death on live television," she tells me.

I stand up quickly, leaving my mother and Katniss surprised. "You know what? I am going to come back from these Games. I am going to win. Just to show you that I'm not weak. I am an Everdeen after all!"

I know that I can't win. The competition is insane. My opponents include: kids from wealthier districts, where winning is a huge honor, who've been trained their whole lives for this; kids that know a hundred ways to kill a person; and kids that are in the majority – if not all of them – much older than me. Plus, I'm not brave, or fast, or strong, or sly… There's nothing I actually can do, except for healing. But that won't help me at all. It's possible that I die on the first day. But I pretend that I am convinced that I have a chance.

Mom and Katniss stare at me. Then a smile forms on my mom's lips. "You look so much like your sister."

I can't help but blush. That is the best compliment I could ever receive. I hope that they have realized that I can also be rebellious, just like Katniss.

"But," Katniss says, "Rory…" Her voice trails off.

Whenever I think of Rory and me in the arena, having to compete against each other, I feel like giving up. But maybe, just maybe, if we can make an alliance during the Games… must we be able to overcome the system just like we did today?

"I can't worry about Rory now," I say firmly. And then I make a sudden decision. "But tell the Hawthornes that I swear not to kill him. Under any circumstances. Tell them that?"

I hadn't considered that before, but now I'm certain. I will not kill Rory. I swear it in my heart. If he is to die, he won't be killed by my hands. Whatever happens.

They both nod. I look directly into their eyes. They are the two people I love most in the world. They love me so much. But they – Katniss, at least – don't love each other as much. I won't be there to be the link between them anymore.

"Listen," I say. "I don't care about what happened in the past. It's over. You two have to overcome your pride. You are mother and daughter, and you love each other, even though you don't like to admit it. I won't be there anymore to keep you at peace. Dad wouldn't like to see you like this." I can see both jaws clenching, but I don't stop. "Promise me that, while I'm away, you will try to live peacefully. That you will try every day. Don't give up on each other. You will try, won't you? Really, really try? For me?"

They both grab my hands. Mom says, "Of course, Prim."

I look at Katniss. She doesn't seem willing to do that, but she says, "Really, really try. I swear it. For you, Prim."

A wave of relief invades my body. I can't afford losing them. And, if I die, maybe they will be forced to get closer to one another. Maybe that's going to make my death worth it.

Katniss hands me a delicate necklace. The pendant is flower that I know well: a primrose. You can find this kind of thing in the merchant area, but they are all so expensive. I wonder what Katniss had to sell to buy me this. I put it on immediately and smile. "Thank you."

And then the Peacekeeper is at the door, signaling our time is up, and we're all hugging one another so hard it hurts and all I'm saying is "I love you. I love you both." And they're saying it back and then the Peacekeeper orders them out and the door closes. I hope with all my heart that they listen to what I told them. That, while I'm away, they are able to get together again.

Someone else enters the room, and when I look up, I see it's the baker, Peeta Mellark's father. I get surprised, but we do know each other a bit. When I sell my goat cheeses at the Hob, I put two of them aside for him and he gives me a generous amount of bread in return. He's so much nicer than his wife. Katniss calls her a witch, and she once told me that she hits Peeta. I'm sure the baker would never do such thing.

The baker sits awkwardly on the edge of one of the plush chairs. He's a big, broad-shouldered man with burn scars from years at the ovens. He pulls a white paper package from his jacket pocket and holds it out to me. I open it and find cookies. These are a luxury we can never afford.

"Thank you," I say, beaming.

The baker's not a very talkative man in the best of times, so I'm caught off guard when he says, "I hope you, um... come back. To keep selling me your goat cheese."

I smile widely at him and he involuntarily smiles back. I appreciate that comment very much.

"How's Peeta?" I ask him. I really like Peeta Mellark. He's sweet, and he helped my family when we were in a desperate situation. The boy with the bread.

"Fine, fine," the baker answers. "He got pretty upset when you were called."

I smile awkwardly. I often underestimate the feelings people from District 12 have toward me. Actually, I'm rather clueless. So I'm always caught off guard.

"Tell him I say good-bye, then," I say.

He grunts, but I'm pretty sure it's a yes.

The baker is a very awkward man, but when the Peacekeeper summons him, I give him the warmest good-bye as possible. When he's leaving, I can see that he's smiling.

My next guest is muchunexpected. Gale walks straight toward me. He probably has just visited Rory. I wasn't expecting him, because I'm afraid he might be angry at me. Plus, I'm competing against his younger brother. But his face isn't mad or anything. He sits beside me.

"Katniss told me that you swore you wouldn't kill Rory," he says.

I stare at the ground. Does he finds me stupid or is he grateful? "I wouldn't be able to do it. Our families are so deeply close. I wouldn't kill Rory, not even if that was my last chance to survive."

"Hey," he says, and I look at him. "It's a game. I would love if Rory came alive, but that would mean losing you. It's all so difficult, Prim, very difficult."

I hesitate. "Are you mad at us? Because we didn't allow you and Katniss to volunteer?"

"You two have more guts than I have thought," he says. "I don't know if I'm frustrated or proud."

"But, if you two volunteered, you'd have to compete against Katniss," I observe. If competing against Rory is difficult for me, then it would be impossible for Gale.

"I know," Gale says. But he quickly changes subject. "I came here to tell you that you have some of Katniss's characteristics." I'm already shaking my head, so he insists, "You do. You just have to find them and the arena is yours."

As soon as he says those words, I throw myself into his arms. He hugs me back. I don't have a very close relationship with Gale really. But he's so close to Katniss that he consequently cares about me and I care about him.

The Peacekeepers are back. Gale lets go of me and they drag him. I say, "You and Katniss support each other, okay?"

"We will!" he says. "Good luck, Prim!" And the Peacekeepers slam the door.

It's a short ride from the Justice Building to the train station. I've never been in a car before. Rarely even ridden in wagons. In the Seam, we travel on foot.

The station is swarming with reporters with their insect-like cameras trained directly on my and Rory's faces. We have to stand for a few minutes in the doorway of the train while the cameras gobble up our images, but it all gets easier with him by my side. Then we're allowed inside and the doors close mercifully behind us. The train begins to move at once.

The speed initially takes my breath away. Of course, I've never been on a train, as travel between the districts is forbidden except for officially sanctioned duties. For us, that's mainly transporting coal. But this is no ordinary coal train. It's one of the high-speed Capitol models that average 250 miles per hour. Our journey to the Capitol will take less than a day.

In school, they tell us the Capitol was built in a place once called the Rockies. District 12 was in a region known is Appalachia. Even hundreds of years ago, they mined coal here. Which is why our miners have to dig so deep.

Somehow it all comes back to coal at school. Besides basic reading and math most of our instruction is coal-related. Except for the weekly lecture on the history of Panem. It's mostly a lot of blather about what we owe the Capitol. Yeah, we sure do.

The tribute train is fancier than even the room in the Justice Building. We are each given our own chambers that have a bedroom, a dressing area, and a private bathroom with hot and cold running water. We don't have hot water at home, unless we boil it.

There are drawers filled with fine clothes, and Effie Trinket tells me to do anything I want, wear anything I want, everything is at my disposal. Just be ready for supper in an hour. I peel off Katniss's old reaping outfit and take a hot shower. I've never had a shower before, much less hot. The sensation is amazing. I choose a pretty yellow dress that reminds me that, despite the darkness that lies ahead, I'll be able to light it up.

This thought reminds me of a mockingjay. They're funny birds and something of a slap in the face to the Capitol. During the rebellion, the Capitol bred a series of genetically altered animals as weapons. The common term for them was muttations,or sometimes muttsfor short. One was a special bird called a jabberjay that had the ability to memorize and repeat whole human conversations. They were homing birds, exclusively male, that were released into regions where the Capitol's enemies were known to be hiding. After the birds gathered words, they'd fly back to centers to be recorded. It took people a while to realize what was going on in the districts, how private conversations were being transmitted. Then, of course, the rebels fed the Capitol endless lies, and the joke was on it. So the centers were shut down and the birds were abandoned to die off in the wild.

Only they didn't die off. Instead, the jabberjays mated with female mockingbirds creating a whole new species that could replicate both bird whistles and human melodies. They had lost the ability to enunciate words but could still mimic a range of human vocal sounds, from a child's high-pitched warble to a man's deep tones. And they could re-create songs. Not just a few notes, but whole songs with multiple verses, if you had the patience to sing them and if they liked your voice.

My father was particularly fond of mockingjays. Whenever he sang, all the birds in the area would fall silent and listen. His voice was that beautiful, high and clear and filled with life.

Effie Trinket comes to collect me for supper. I follow her through the narrow, rocking corridor into a dining room with polished paneled walls. There's a table where all the dishes are highly breakable. Rory sits waiting for us. He also has taken a shower and is now using bright clothes. The chair next to him is empty.

"Where's Haymitch?" asks Effie Trinket brightly.

"Last time I saw him, he said he was going to take a nap," says Rory.

"Well, it's been an exhausting day," says Effie Trinket. I think she's relieved by Haymitch's absence.

The supper comes in courses. A thick carrot soup, green salad, lamb chops and mashed potatoes, cheese and fruit, a chocolate cake. Throughout the meal, Effie Trinket keeps reminding us to save space because there's more to come. But I'm stuffing myself in the politest way possible, because I've never had food like this, so good and so much.

"At least, you two have decent manners," says Effie as we're finishing the main course. "The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion."

The pair last year was two kids from the Seam who'd never, not one day of their lives, had enough to eat. And when they did have food, table manners were surely the last thing on their minds. Hazelle and my mother have taught Rory and me how to use a fork and a knife, but not everyone even has cutlery. I'm struggling not to get angry at Effie Trinket's comment, and I can see that Rory is doing the very same.

Now that the meal's over, I'm fighting to keep the food down. I can see Rory's looking a little green, too. Neither of our stomachs is used to such rich fare.

We go to another compartment to watch the recap of the reapings across Panem. They try to stagger them throughout the day so a person could conceivably watch the whole thing live, but only people in the Capitol could really do that, since none of them have to attend reapings themselves.

One by one, we see the other reapings, the names called, the volunteers stepping forward or, more often, not. I memorize all our competition. A rich and snob pair from District 1. A monstrous volunteer boy and a scary girl from District 2. A terrified pair from District 3. Two well-built fishers from District 4. A simple boy and a fox-faced girl with sleek red hair from District 5. Fairly OK pairs from District 6 to 9. A wide-eyed girl and a boy with a crippled foot from District 10. And a boy as monstrous as the one from District 2, but not with the lethal look in his eyes, and a twelve-year-old girl from District 11. She has dark brown skin and eyes. Contrary to what happened in our district, there's no willing to volunteer for her.

I don't remember any Hunger Games edition that had so many twelve-year-olds at once. Three of them! Me, Rory and the girl from District 11. I bet the other contestants are enjoying this very much. We're probably dead already. They don't have much to worry about.

Last of all, they show District 12. This is, by far, the most interesting reaping. My name being called, Katniss volunteering and I vetoing. The awkward moment of confusion. Haymitch falling. Then everything repeats itself when Rory's name is called. Gale volunteers and Rory vetoes. Effie getting the phone and then announcing that the Capitol decided to allow me and Rory to compete. Katniss is then screaming hysterically and Gale is looking transparent of fear. Rory and I mount the stage. The commentators are not sure what to say about the crowd's refusal to applaud. The silent salute. Rory and I shake hands. They cut to the anthem again, and the program ends.

Effie Trinket is disgruntled about the state her wig was in. "Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behavior."

Rory unexpectedly laughs. "He was drunk," says Rory. "He's drunk every year."

"Every day," I add. I can't help smirking a little. Effie Trinket makes it sound like Haymitch just has somewhat rough manners that could be corrected with a few tips from her.

"Yes," hisses Effie Trinket. "How odd you two find it amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in these Games. The one who advises you, lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can well be the difference between your life and your death!"

Just then, Haymitch staggers into the compartment. "I miss supper?" he says in a slurred voice. Then he vomits all over the expensive carpet and falls in the mess.

"So laugh away!" says Effie Trinket. She hops in her pointy shoes around the pool of vomit and flees the room.

A/N: So, hi! I changed the mockingjay pin for a primrose necklace as a symbol of rebellion. It may seem silly, but I wanted to show that the unexpected can happen. A little girl can suddenly rebel. That's why I chose the primrose. What do you think?