Something tells me Michael's been keeping watch. "The boy from 3 died," he says when I wake up. "Sorry, I ate some bread." I chuckle. Of course he did, he was never hungry before. Not like me, anyway.
"Have you made any kills?" I ask. He says the boy from 7 is it, because he was going to attack Rue. Huh. I may like this boy after all.
"Well, I'm gonna go hunting." I say, bringing the slingshot and five knifes. Michael is on watch now, and I get five rabbits and two squirrels before he starts complaining.
"Nothing's really happened by the Gamemakers." I point out while we eat. Michael agrees, and I wish we didn't, because suddenly it started raining rocks. Big ones.
"Take cover!" We run out of the cave on my demands, using the metal as a shield. We keep running, and the rocks stop. What is this? But then I smell smoke. Gamemaker smoke.
"Fire!" Michael yells as I take off. He trails behind me, but still at a reasonable pace. But then it's too late to do anything, the Gamemakers have us cornered by a wall of fire.
"There's a gap!" Michael screams. We both run, side by side, to a shrinking hole in the circle of flames. We then jump, for our lives, through the tiny hole. When we land on the hard ground, I know I'm on fire. So I cover my face and roll down the hill. Michael still follows, until the fire has disappeared.
There's a stinging pain in my arms, and it won't stop. "Do you have any ointment?" I ask Michael, who shakes his head. No? No!
"Damn you!" I push him over, ready to kill him, when a silver parachute floats through the air. Could it be ointment? I open it, and it is. Thank you, Haymitch. But why aren't you sponsoring Peeta?
My question has been answered when a cannon goes. It belonged to Peeta. Eight left. District twelve may have a winner after all. And she is only twelve years old.
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Prim had a Twin
FanfictionRosemary Everdeen was also in the family. No one knew about her until the reaping, when she makes an important appearance that District Twelve will never forget.
