A Hunger Games Fanfiction: Prim's Games ||Book One||

Chapter 3

"Today's the day you show the Gamemakers what you can do," Haymitch says at breakfast the next morning. "I hope you two have been practicing."

"Yeah," Peeta says, "I've been practicing throwing some large weights around."

"And I've been using the knife some." I say. "I think I can throw it pretty far."

"Good," Haymitch smiles slightly. "And don't do anything stupid."

"What do you think we'll do?" Peeta laughs. "Take a bow and fire at the Gamemakers?"

Even I have to laugh at that. That would be utterly ridiculous. We could get in big trouble, maybe even executed before the games even start.

We spend the morning just sitting there, waiting and watching as each tribute's name is called. District 12 goes last. Peeta's name is called. He starts to stand before I stop him.

"Good luck, Peeta." I whisper, though I'm not sure why.

"Thanks." He nods. "You too."

After about twenty minutes my name is called. I take a deep breath and stand, slowly stepping toward the doors. It opens, and I walk into the room. I go over to the weapon rack and pick out four nice looking knives. I go over to the dummies and prepare to throw. I glance over at the Gamemakers balcony and realize they aren't even looking at me.

"Excuse me," I say, barely loud enough to be heard over their chatter. "Primrose Everdeen. District Twelve."

They turn to watch and I throw the first knife, hitting the dummy in the throat. I hear a chorus of approval but it's not as impressive as it looks because I was aiming for the forehead. Taking my second knife, I completely miss this time. I miss on the third one and on the fourth.

I turn back to the Gamemakers and they don't look impressed. I admit, I'm fairly impressed myself. I'm not usually good with weapons, but I did very well.

"Thank you, Miss Everdeen." The Head Gamemaker--Seneca Crane, I believe--dismisses me.

I feel really happy as I get ready for dinner. I shower and dress before heading down to dinner. No one's there yet, but I just sit and wait for another good ten minutes before Peeta shows up, then Effie, Haymitch, Cinna and Portia.

"Hello, everyone." I greet them.

"Someone looks down," Haymitch observes. "How'd it go?"

"Let's get our food before we discuss today alright, Haymitch?" Effie says.

"Sure," I agree. I'm famished, and I don't really want to talk about it.

As we each get our food, I accidentally bump one of the servant girls, making her drop the rolls all over the floor.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" I stoop down to help her collect the fallen rolls.

"Primrose!" Effie exclaims.

"What?" My head pops up from under the table.

"Let the Avox girl clean up the mess!"

"Avox?" I ask, furrowing my brows.

"They cut out her tongue and made her a servant," Haymitch says. "She's probably a traitor of some sort."

"But-"

"And you are not to speak to an Avox unless you're giving an order." Effie says. "Understand?"

Cut out her tongue? Knowing the Capitol, it probably wasn't even that bad. Maybe a slight offense to one of the Peacekeepers. Maybe not even that bad.

"Yes, Effie."

I sit down again, suddenly feeling worse. I sit, eating quietly while Peeta tells about his private training session.

"No one paid much attention to me," he says, "I just threw around some weights until they said I could leave."

"And you, Prim?" Haymitch looks at me.

"I kept missing," I start. "I hit the knife dummy in the throat by sheer accident. And I missed the rest. I'm sure I didn't do well at all."

"Well, we'll find out tonight!" Effie seems excited.

Now we all sit around a coffee table, watching the results. Elm from District 7 got a seven, as well as Rue from District 11. Peeta got an eight, and I nervously wait for mine.

Ten!

People are congratulating me, but I don't feel so good. A ten? The only other tributes that got a score that high were the Careers. I didn't do well, so why did I get a ten? Maybe because I'm no good, they want to pick me off quickly. The higher my score, the more people will come after me.

I tuck myself into bed, thinking. The interviews are only two days away now. The day after that, the games begin. It's all happening so quickly. I grow scared, I don't want to go. But I don't have a choice. The Capitol blames the districts for the uprising. That's why the games exist. But, how could it possibly be our fault? We were being forced into lives we didn't want. We just stood up for ourselves. And look where that got us.

Now I'm not one to yell or break things (that would be Katniss), but something just comes over me. I come out of bed, grab the vase in my room, and chuck it at the wall. I rip the comforter off the bed and throw it.

"Why me?!" I sob, sinking to the ground.

I hear running in the hallway, and Peeta barges in. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I wipe my nose. "Y-yeah, I'm fine."

He walks over and settles beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "It's okay to be afraid. I am too."

"But you stand a chance." I protest. "And when you go home, please tell Katniss I love her."

"She knows," He tells me. "And I won't leave your side in that arena. I promise."

"I know that your father told you to protect me, but you can't. I can't afford to form relationships. It'll hurt too much when they're gone."

"It doesn't matter. I won't leave you." He says firmly.

I hug him, and I finally feel just a little safe in his arms.

Just a little.