Prim's Hunger Games

Part one: The Reaping

"Primrose Everdeen!"

Numbness, that's the first thing I feel. Hadn't I done everything? Katniss had taken the Teserae, my slip was one in thousands. Thousands. But I'd still been picked. My small square of paper close to the bottom picked out by long, pointy, fake fingernails glued to a polished Capitol hand. Effie Trinket. I realise I'm taking too long. It's been about twenty seconds and Effie is getting frustrated. "Where are you dear? Come on up." The crowd naturally parts into two as I walk past. I feel sick. None of them feel bad for me. They all feel so relieved that they haven't been picked for one more year. My silly shoes hold me back, they're much too big for me. For my age I am smaller than average and these belong to my mother.

I stumble to the stage where Effie comes down and grabs my wrist. We are only sanctioned a couple of minutes for the reaping on the national television show later and she is already running over time.

Suddenly there's a commotion in the crowd.

"Prim!" It's Katniss, my sister.

My lips part into an O shape.

"Katniss!"

She runs to me, and for a second I think she'll make it, until two massive peacekeepers step in her way. She tries to fight them, she tries to reach me, but they are too strong. They push her back and two more peacekeepers grab her from behind and haul her off, away from the reaping.

With tears threatening to cascade down my face, I reach the stage. Effie doesn't seem to mind the time now as she is relieved there is some sort of drama to spice up the district she so hazardously receives every year.

The microphone shrieks loudly and the rest of the district hold their ears.

"Well!" she exclaims, "I bet my buttons that was your sister, wasn't it?"

"Yes." I state numbly.

"I guess you had to get up here quickly before she stole all the glory, right?"

I have to bite my tongue to not yell at this lady. How doesn't she see?

"You could say that."

I scan the stage. There's Effie, two large glass bowls filled with thousands of little paper slips. A microphone in the middle, a giant screen behind us. Three chairs to my right and back, two of which unoccupied. I guess one for Effie, one for the mayor and one for Haymitch, our last surviving victor. Just as my thoughts are slipping over to him, I hear a thudding to my left. Here he comes now. For a second he comes so close to me that I can smell the horribly strong liquor on his breath. "Hmm!" He slurs, "Well, this is new! A twelve year old has been chosen. Hehe! I bet this was a shock! To you!" He points to District 12 who are looking at him with concern. "To you!" He's still going. This time he points at the mayor. "And you!" Shoving his finger directly into the camera. Is he actually so drunk he is taunting the Capitol?

"Well time for the boys..." Effie Trinket begins but trails off as Haymitch decides to walk forward. Suddenly he takes a massive head dive off the stage. Although he disgusts me, this is ok. The cameras are not on my scrunched up face anymore. I've seen enough hunger games to know that crying is not the way to go.

This is no time to play the "cute kid" card. This is a show where you're killing off children, and I need to make a start on my strategy now. Pretend to be weak and then show off my weapon skills in the games? But I don't have any weapon skills, I hardly even know how to throw a knife. I now instantly regret all the times Katniss had offered to take me into the woods and I had declined, much preferring to stay at home than go into the scary woods where nothing was predictable.

But it's too late for regrets now. I've got to move quickly. With the cameras still trained gleefully on Haymitch, it gives me the second I need to let the stray tear slide and to let out the small sob that has been working its way into the back of my throat. For the first time ever, I'm grateful for Haymitch to be a drunk.

Paramedics come in and I see my mother among them. Will she be able to say goodbye is she is working on Haymitch? The thought makes me sick. No, we can't leave without him. I will say goodbye. With Haymitch gone, Effie continues the show.

"Now for the boys!" She exclaims boldly. I notice one of her fingernails has come off and her wig has shifted slightly to the right. She points her silly shoes towards the other glass ball and digs around for a good ten second before latching onto a piece of paper. She pulls it up in her hand and holds it to the light, as if it would make her somehow see through it.

She opens the crips fold and reads in a loud voice, well loud to me anyway but that's maybe because I'm right beside her.

"Peeta Mellark!"

I don't recognise the name, for a second I'm terrified it will be an eighteen year old beast tribute. But then I see him, his face reads the same expression as mine did, but with a hint of confusion. I'm sure his name was seldom in there as well as mine. He's part of the Merchants in town.  I bet he didn't have to take any tesserae.  I sell cheese from my goat at his back door on Mondays after school. He would always give me a tip. When I was just seven, he saved my whole family's life with a simple gesture. This will make it a lot harder. What if we have to kill each other?

I banish the thoughts from my mind as he mounts the stage.

"Well that's just excellent! Go on you two! Shake hands."

Peeta leans forwards and shakes my hand firmly, and possibly gives a reassuring squeeze. Effie gives another terrifying white smile into the camera until someone with a camera yells "CUT!"

A peacekeeper grabs me from behind and before I know it I'm gone.

~   ~   ~

Hey guys! Thanks for reading!  Soon I'll be uploading a choose your own path adventure book, to decide if you'd win the Hunger Games! It's a multiple choice novel and will determine if you could survive.  Follow me to find it when it gets published.  Baiii! :)

Hope you enjoy!