Prim's Games

Chapter 1-PRIM

It's the morning we've all been dreading. Today is the day of the reaping for the 74th Annual Hunger Games. I had bad dreams about it all last night. What if Katniss and Gale get chosen? I couldn't live without Katniss, and her loss would absolutely devastate our mother. She took our father's loss so hard, so I'm praying for both of us that Katniss doesn't get chosen. If Gale was picked, Katniss would be horrified. She's already far tougher than a girl her age should be. And it feels so selfish, but I'm thinking about myself too.

This is the first year where I might get picked. I don't even have survival skills like Katniss does. The kids from the other districts get trained for this. I don't have a chance at survival there. My cat, Buttercup walks up to me and purrs.

"Oh Buttercup, what would I do without you?" I mutter into his soft fur. He just looks at me in a way that warms my heart. Katniss tried to drown him when I brought him home years ago, but I couldn't let her. His gaze melted me, like butter, and although I've never told anyone, that's the real reason I named him Buttercup.

Katniss comes in once we're ready with what she hunted and traded for. Is this the last time she'll do that? I watch her, soaking in every moment just in case it is. After all, her name is in the reaping twenty times, for our tesserae. I watch as she dresses in our mother's old dress and as our mother braids and pins up her hair. Once she's ready I say "You look beautiful." And it's true. She does look amazing, bold, brave and strong. All the things I wish I could be.

"And nothing like myself." she says back, before enfolding me in a hug. I hold on to everything I can, Katniss, this moment and the small but foolish hope that everything might just be okay. When we pull apart, Katniss must notice the worry on my face, because she smoothes my blouse where it sticks out in the back and says jokingly says "Tuck your tail in little duck." I quack back at her, but my heart isn't really in it, knowing what'll come later. Katniss smiles, the kind of smile she'll only show around me or our mother. I pray once more that she doesn't get chosen. What would I do without moments like this?

We eat and head to the square at one, as is mandatory. We get sorted by age, and I head away from Katniss for what might be the last time. I'm scared. I glance at the faces of the other kids around me, and the same fear is mirrored on their expressions. I stare at the two glass balls on the stage that will determine who is safe for another year and who will go to die. Mayor Undersee and Effie Trinket; District 12's escort from the Capitol sit in the chairs up front.

When the clock strikes two, the mayor gives the same speech he gives every year; the history of Panem and the Hunger Games. I listen raptly, hoping it'll take my mind off the reaping. It ends too quickly. He reads out the list of past winners, even though we only have one; Haymitch Abernathy. He drunkenly stumbles on stage, and falls into an empty chair next to Effie Trinket and Mayor Undersee. Knowing he'll embarrass the district in front of everyone in Panem, the mayor hurriedly introduces Effie who prattles on and on about what an honor it is to be here, even though she obviously wants to be in a better district.

Finally, she squeals "Ladies first!" in that annoying voice of hers and picks a slip from the jar. I pray one last time, hoping it won't be me as she unfolds the slip, and it's not. She reads the name and it's Katniss. I look at Katniss, stunned as she begins to walk up to the stage. "No." I say, but either nobody hears me, or they choose not to listen. Suddenly, a wave of panic and rage takes over me. "NO! I VOLUNTEER TO TAKE HER PLACE!" I scream as loud as I can, filled with rage and desperation to save Katniss. I can't lose her. And neither can our mother. Everyone looks at each other in confusion and starts murmuring among themselves. In other districts, where people train for this, volunteering is complicated and takes forever. There hasn't been a volunteer in District 12 in years.

Katniss looks shocked and she says "Prim I can't let you do-"

"I can't let you do this Katniss," I yell back "I can't lose you. I volunteer myself as tribute!" I cry. I can't lose her. I can't.

Effie says "Um...the volunteering process takes place after both tributes are reaped and-"

"How does it matter? She's volunteered" says the mayor, and it's clear that he wants this to be over as fast as possible.

"Um okay then," she says "Come on up." I make my way towards the stage slowly, but not too slowly. I don't want to be seen as weak, even though I just want to curl up in a ball on the floor and cry. I glance at my mother who is crying, quietly. I look over at Katniss who catches my gaze and screams "NO! PRIM!!" and some people near her have to hold her back.

I take a deep breath, trying not to cry and step onstage. I stare out at everyone. It's absolutely silent, even the people who take bets on this and don't care much for the victims are stunned and suddenly everyone puts their three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and then holds it out. I swallow the lump in my throat, this time more out of emotion, that the people of my district would show that much love to the one they're sending off.

"Well then," says Effie, trying to break the awkward silence "It's time to choose the boy tribute from District 12!" She walks over to the bowl and picks out a slip. I'm torn between hoping that it is Gale and it isn't Gale. Katniss would be torn, but he would protect me, be a trusted ally of mine until the very end. She calls the name of a boy I know vaguely from school; Archer Coleman. I've never spoken to him before, I've seen him looking at me in an odd way during school. He heads up, and I look at him. He's medium height, just a little taller than me with coal black hair, fair white skin and jade green eyes. Effie asks for volunteers, but as expected, no one steps forward. The mayor reads through the Treaty of Treason, as is required, but I don't pay attention.

To everyone else, today is just another regular reaping day. They will celebrate because their families have been spared. But to us and the Coleman family, it won't be. I look at Archer, and he whispers "Well, we might be pretty much dead in the Games, but it'll be nice to spend the last few days of my life with someone as pretty and sweet as you Primrose."

And even though I know he's saying it out of politeness, I can't help but smile back and say "Please, call me Prim. And it'll be nice to spend my last days with you too." And I can't stop thinking about it.