A/N: Hi Guys! I'm currently in Sunny Spain. HOLIDAYS! As soon as I'm back, I'll upload a SHIZTON of chapters. I'll shut up now...
I am a bit nervous, for Prim. I know nothing is worse than going into the arena, well, there is going in twice, or going in with someone you owe your life to... but that was an unusual occurrence. She had to mature from such a young age, so quickly, for her own sake, as well as mine. Snow visited frequently after she was born, to check that we weren't teaching her to be a rebel. After her 4th birthday, she could speak perfect English, so, we taught her about the terrible world we live in, and how she must hold her tongue about it, especially around that devil named Coriolanus Snow. She caught on almost immediately. Better than me. I have the occasional slip of the tongue, whereas with Peeta, Prim and even Finnick, it never happens.
I walk in and see her sobbing into her pillow, holding Daisy, a plush dalmatian that she got for her 4th birthday. She loved it. It calmed her down at times like this. She rarely needed it, but this was a desperate case.
"Can I come in?" I asked. She didn't look at me, she just nodded. "Don't worry, Prim, you'll come home. I know how you feel. It's not just the Games, it's the hellhole of Panem, really, isn't it? President Snow. The harshness to the Districts. The horror of the Games. How he expects us to be grateful for his kindness. Sometimes we hate the escorts more than we hate him, but we must remember, they have to love the Capitol; some have to pretend. Such as Effie Trinket, District 12 escort. My escort. She was tortured so much during the rebellion, she hated wearing the pink wigs, and pretending to like the games. When they tortured her, they wouldn't let her die. Brought her to as low as an inch of her life, yet wouldn't kill her, because of the information she held. She was scared every time she saw a Peacekeeper, but told them nothing. She was extremely brave. Then, when the rebellion ended, they killed her. She fought against what she was told was right. She knew right from wrong. She was very brave, and fought to the bitter end. She played as big a part as I did in the rebellion, by doing so. Every District escort was killed. They were replaced, but never the same. Thanks to Mister Coriolanus Snow. And, who knows, maybe, what goes around, comes around, as they used to say; maybe his Great-Granddaughter, Atrox, will get reaped. One thing's for sure; You can do this! You understand the Gamemakers, and you are the child of victors, you will succeed. You will defeat the odds." I encourage her.
She stops crying, looks me in the eyes, and asks, "What if I don't? What if I'm not good enough? What if... I'm killed in my sleep, or the Gamemakers refuse to let me win? What then?" The hurt in her eyes breaks my heart. At this age, she should enjoy life, not be thinking of this. It is this that reminds me that no-one can escape. No-one. Not a single soul. I want to murder Snow right on the spot. I will, eventually. Another rebellion doesn't sound so bad now...
"Shhh, shhh. Prim, don't worry. You'll come back. Who gives a crap about what the Gamemakers say or do? They threw fireballs;I lived. They told Peeta and I to kill each other;we're both still alive. If you have the determination, the strenght and the courage, you'll win. Don't, even for a second, think that you wont live through the arena, because you will. You can hunt. You can climb trees. You do excellent camoflauge. You can make snares. If you avoid the Careers, anything could happen. You will live, as long as there are some trees in the arena, you're safe. Don't underestimate your abilities. Alliances can be good, but be careful. Your allies could be your biggest threats. Choose carefully. It's okay to not want to be a part of their games. Show them that you're not just a piece of their games."
She nods, and before either of us can exchange another word, Peeta calls us for dinner. She heads of to the bathroom, to wash her face. She doesn't want Finnick, or Peeta for that matter, to know what she's been crying. Peeta has made us some cheese buns, some rabbit that I hunted yesterday, some wild onion and some of Lady's goat milk. Finnick, who will eat anything, is already halfway through his share of rabbit. Peeta was waiting for us. I sit beside Peeta, and we wait for Prim. "How was she?" Peeta asks.
"She was really upset, and asked me what if she doesn't live through it. I told her she would, and to ignore the Gamemaker's plans. She doesn't want you to know she was crying. She wants to come of as strong, as it will help her for the games. She knows how to play her cards. She just needs a confidence boost. I think I'll go hunting with her tomorrow." I reply, quietly as so Finnick doesn't hear. Prim walks in, and her face lights up when she sees the food. Peeta knows that she's had a rough time, and that she loves cheese buns and rabbit, so this was a good choice.
During dinner, Prim keeps Finnick distracted, asking him various questions about his day, while Peeta and I talk about training, the games, and even the interviews. We want the district escort, Bellum Trinket, to have to do as little work with Prim as possible. Prim will be more eager to learn, as her life literally depends on it. She will want to keep people alive, but she understands that life is at stake. She knows not to go attacking tributes unless they attack you or it's the final two. She will kill quickly, unlike Careers. She knows how the odds wont be in the other tribute's favour, but there's nothing she can do about it. She'll let them die with dignity, as any kind person would.
"I just don't think she'll be able to kill, considering her kind-heartedness." Peeta whispers. This gets me thinking. True, she will find it difficult, but she won't have much choice. "She will try not to kill, but if she has to, or comes across a dying, defenceless tribute, she will. She would rather make a person's death quick, than have them die slowly and painfully. That's how kind-hearted she is. She will be no Cashmere, and certainly no Titus. She will injure, but not kill. She will choose flight over fight. I'm scared that the Careers may chase her down, but considering her agility, she'll out-run them. She's perfect. She's great when it comes to everything, arena-wise. She'll live, unless the Careers go overdrive, and decide to get revenge for Glimmer, Marvel and Cato..." I answer, finishing my onion and rabbit. All I have left is my cheese buns, as I save the best for last.
When we all finish up, Finnick goes to bed and Prim gets her two writing books - her diary and her 'written stories' book, and starts writing. Peeta and I discuss the Games for about half an hour, before Prim walks over and joins the conversation. "Mom, Dad, what if I was wrong about me going in this year? What if I was just over-dramatising it?" She questions.
"If that is true, then you are lucky, and ready for the future." I tell her.
"Prim, how did you feel when you figured out that it may be a warning? Besides scared." Peeta queries.
"Well, besides fear, I felt stress, hate and a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach."
"Ahh... so it is true then." Peeta half-whispers.
"What?" Prim and I wonder.
"I get that feeling too, when I feel like something might happen; it's your instincts and conscience; it's what you feel when your almost certain that something will happen. When I get that feeling, it's usually true. The one time I can remember it wasn't was me thinking that Katniss - your mother - would never love me."
At this, I hug Peeta. "So, basically, it most likely will happen?" Prim asks. Peeta nods in reply. Prim smiles and tells us "I love you. Thank you, so much." as she joins the hug.
When she's freed, she resumes writing in her diary; the place where she keeps her innermost thoughts and secrets. It was given to her for her eight birthday by no other than the District seven victor, Blight. It holds about one thousand, five hundred pages. She doesn't mind me reading it, so long as we rarely talk about the contents. I remember reading it about a week before her tenth birthday, She wrote something completely unexpected and surprising. It was about her best friend, Dillon. It read:
Dillon and I were playing truth or dare, when he got truth, I asked him "Who do you have a crush on?" and he blushed crimson. I repeated the question and he looked at his feet, mumbling three words. I told him that I didn't hear him, and he said three words, very clearly. Those words were Primrose Rue Mellark! I didn't expect this, and had a very shocked look on his face. He turned away from me, not daring to look me in the eye. I secretly had a crush on him too. We had been friends for years. I thought my crush would never become something real. I think he was expecting a reply, so I moved my face in front of his, and kissed his lips. His reaction was slightly delayed, probably as a result of shock. Once he got over shock, he broke away, and I said "Well, are we a thing now?" Not sure what was going on. In reply, he kissed me back. I broke away, and he said "You guess", with a smile on his face. I smiled also, hugging him. I whispered to him "Don't tell anyone; not yet, kay?" and replied with a nod. We are now, as much as two ten year old children can be, boyfriend and girlfriend. He is ten months older than me, but that doesn't matter. I hope this is a long-lasting relationship.
It turns out that they still are, and Prim even started teaching him how to hunt. A worry that I have kept to myself is the fact that they could both be sent into the arena. Hopefully, The odds will be in their favor. However, the odds don't seem to be very dependable for my family, of late.