Primrose Mellark

Chapter Two

   I walked through the forest on the path to my house, storming along. Then I stumbled over a root that was snaking out of the ground. My ball flew out of my hands and landed in a bush. Angry, I tore my foot free and got myself to my feet again. I brushed the dirt and weeds off my pants and clothes. As I looked up, I saw something shine in the bushes where my ball was. Curious, I walked over and bent down next to the object. It was a small, hollow metal tube of some sort. I picked it up with my two fingers. It was as long as my pinkey finger.

   I looked closer at the tube. Engraved, it said, "District Thirteen- graphite and nucular." I twisted it around in my fingers and examined it. I looked inside it. It was totally empty. I shrugged and stuffed it into my pocket. I got my ball back in my hands and stood up.

   I walked into open air, free of the trees. I ran to the front of my house and unlocked it. As I opened the door, I called inside. No awnser. I shrugged and tossed my ball back into the kitchen, then shut the door again.

   I went to the side of my house, where the pen was. Inside were three chickens, and in the other cage a few feet away from that, was our two goats, Rosemary and Phillip. I got a bag of food and scooped some feed out. I tossed the feed into the chicken cage, and watched them peck at the ground. 

   I turned to the goats. For their feeding, I had to get hay and oats. The oats were next to the chicken feed, so I grabbed that first. I filled up their through and I grasped two handfuls of hay from the side of the house. I manually fed them, loving the way they nipped and nuzzled at my hands. I giggled sofly as one of them 'baaa'-ed at me. Then they walked away, finished feeding. I threw the rest of the hay into the cage if they ever wanted it again.

   Done with my job, I walked back into the house. It was bare and empty. And lonely. As I walked across the floor, I could hear the faint echo of my steps. I stopped and stared at the picture on the wall next to the fireplace. It was a picture of my mother and her littler sister, Prim, the girl I was named after.

   In the picture, my mom was unsmiling and serious, but Prim was smiling as big as the moon. They were next to a shop with clothes hanging on the racks and on the top of the cart. Prim's hair was tied back in two braids by her side, and my mom's was in a single braid down her back. In their arms were Prim's cat, Buttercup. My mom in the picture, held a loaf of bread.

   A loud crashing made me start, and then whip around. Then I sighed with relief. It was only our pet cat, Thrush. She was standing on top of our table, with a bowl sitting on the floor that she knocked over. I walked over to her and pet her on her little black head. All over she was pure black, except one patch on her tail. Thrush was a small cat, considering her age. She was now thirteen years old. Very old, in fact.

   I rubbed her behind her ears one last time, then turned and walked out the front door. I made sure Thrush wasn't near the door when I shut it behind me. I stepped back into the open, clear air. I looked around, then started to run. I ran across the lawn and into the path. Except this time I steered off, into my own private path, and followed the thin trail down into the forest. I looked around, and found signs of landmarks, such as a scratch on a tree.

   When I reconised the last landmark, I looked up. Our huge fort, me and Rye's, was still there up in the branches of two entwining trees. Our papa had made it for us when we were little. It was still in good shape.

   I started to climb up the branches that led to the opening in the bottom of the fort. I pushed myself up and popped my head into the fort. I grasped the rope and pulled myself in. The fort was only big enough for two people to get inside, but was comfortable, in a sentimental way. I stood up, then remembered too late. My head whacked hard against the roof. It was barely too small for me now. The roof was an inch too short- for me, anyways.