Mentors

45

"I guess that day of fun will have to take a rain check?" Says Prim, sitting on the bed holding Buttercup.
More like a bomb check, Prim.

"I guess so," I respond, placing Rosemary down for her nap. Not long after, I find myself tripping over the bed when the first bomb hits. It sounds more powerful than thunder, and the ground shakes. More bombs hit the same area. It startles Rosie, and she starts to cry. Before I can rush to her, Buttercup jumps from Prim's lap and he runs over across the room and jumps on the bed.
"No!" I tell the cat, worried that he'll jump on her. I'm too late and he's already perked up his tail, prancing over. First his tail brushes against her arm, and then he sticks his face to her cheek. My baby sister halts her loud screaming. Her squinted, red eyes widen at the furry animal rubbing his face onto hers. I can't even comprehend why Rosie hasn't screamed her head off, but I raise my eyebrow, curious to see what will happen next. Buttercup then purrs audibly, curling up into a little ball beside her small little body.

"Wow," says Prim, "Buttercup is usually not so cuddly with anyone but me. He has a feisty attitude for everyone."

"Not her," I exhale a breathy laugh.

The bombs start to become more frequent, with only a couple second pauses. I stop their cuddling session and I pick Rosemary up. I climb onto the bed, sitting next to Prim, and we lean against the wall. Buttercup jumps into her lap and the four of us go under a blanket.

"What can take our minds off this?" I suggest. Rosie's fussing starts to quiet down and she starts to drift to sleep, despite the occasional thump of a bomb that lightly shakes us.

Prim takes a flashlight that sits on the floor, and she turns it on. As soon as it's pointed at the wall, Buttercup jumps from her lap and chases it. I let out a laugh, very amused. She chances the direction, and points it at the ceiling. He doesn't know what to do, so he just stands there and meows.

"Lemme try!" She hands me the flashlight and I point it on the other bed. He leaps for it and before he can reach the spot I point the flashlight next to me. My little plan works, and now he's close enough for me to pet him.

"Will this be us for the next few hours?"

"I guess so, could be days." she answers.

We continue messing with the grown cat, and when Rosemary wakes, she smiles at him and sticks her little fingers out in his direction.
My head perks up when I hear a loud scream. Not a scream of danger, but one of anger. I recognize the two voices. One nasty, scratchy voice must belong to Charity. The other sounds like the girl career from District 4.
I lean my ear against the wall and listen. Prim mimics me.

"You can't just ask people why they're alive! Have some manners!" says the girl.

"It should have been you on their death bed, not my Koltie poo!"

"Well, how was I supposed to know that a rebellion was being planned? That Raina would convince me to go with her in the arena? The point is my life is saved and I'm here at the moment. And your little boyfriend is alive and paying for his actions in the Capitol. There's nothing you can do to change that. It's not my fault, it's not the girl from 12's fault. No one is responsible for this but President Snow. He's the one who took your friend. So stop blaming everyone for his wrong-doing, and shut your nasty, screeching, potty mouth before you won't have the ability to use it."

"What are you going to do if I don't, wise ass?"

"Have you forgotten that I've been forced to train half my life for the Hunger Games? I'm an experienced killer, and I could make your cannon go off with my bare hands."