Primrose's Story.

I love you, Katniss.

This whole thing started one fateful morning in the summer when I was 12. This day was called the reaping.

. . .

It was midnight on the eve of the yearly reaping, and I woke in bed with my sister, Katniss, who was sleeping soundly, but I was most definitely not. I was sweating and shivering at the same time, if that's even possible. I sat straight up in bed, the explosions still thundering in my ears, my eyes, my head, and my heart beating to the rhythm of the escaping coal miners running feet.

'Dad.'

The word escapes me before I can stop it. My father died in that coal accident, and I always have recurring nightmares of running, trying to find him, but my feet do not move quick enough and just as I reach him, a piece of land falls on him and he is lost to me forever once again. That's always where I wake up, trembling, with tears on my cheeks. I cannot get through these alone. I turn to wake up Katniss, but before I can, I hear my name. It is faint and low, almost inaudible, but I hear it. I turn. In the bed across from us I see my mother, sitting up, arms open, and she whispers my name again

'Prim.'

I run to her, into her arms, into safety. I start to sob against her chest, unable to stop myself. She shushes me gently wrapping the blanket around both me and her, and then pulling me closer to her. My cat jumps up on the bed and licks my face. I give a shaky laugh that turns into another sob. My mom pulls me down to lie next to her. I do.

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I cannot sleep another wink that night, so early in the morning, before even Katniss is up, I go downstairs to milk my goat, and then churn it until it's cheese. Then I slowly sneak out of the house to the baker's shop, where I know the baker's son, Peeta Mellark, is already up. When I arrive, I knock 2 times fast, 2 times slow, then 2 times fast again, our secret code. Peeta opens the door quickly. Ever since he saved my family by burning bread (which he received a beating for), then giving it to Katniss, I have been talking to him every Sunday, early in the morning. The second time I came he had confided in me that he had had a crush on my sister since they were five years old. I told him that he had some competition, I could see it in Gale's eyes. He thanked me for the advice, and then laughed, saying,

'And I get my love advice from a 12 year old.'

I'd frowned and told him

'I'm almost thirteen.'

'Yes, I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean it that way.'

I smiled at him.

But that was months ago, and now I was here on other matters than my sister's love life.

'My sister goes out hunting today. With Gale. And since it's...you know... Reaping Day, I thought I'd leave her some real bread to take with her. It would make her REALLY happy?''

'I don't know...''

'Oh, pretty please with a cherry on top??! I'll pay you!''

'No, no. Prim, don't pay me, just... promise me you'll eat the second one yourself?"

'Yes, but... Peeta, you don't have to give ME something.''

'I know, just, take it, alright?''

I nod.

He goes into the back room of the bakery, then about a minute later, he returns with two cinnamon buns on hand.

'Oh, peeta...'

'No. Take them.'

I nod and take them from his hands. Then I lean in, and before he can stop me, I whisper,

'I think my sister likes you more than she thinks, she just doesn't know it yet. She watches you all the time.'

Before he reacts I run out of the shop, towards home.

When I get home it is still dark, around 3 in the morning, I'd guess. That means I have one hour to get the present ready and then be back in bed with my mom before Katniss wakes up. I rummage through the drawers of old clothes and find some baby ones. I take a navy blue baby-sized jacket and tear out a big share of fabric. I set the fabric down on the table, returning the rest of the ripped jacket to it's place in the old-clothes drawer. On top of the peice of fabric, I place one of the cinnamon rolls and the cheese I made this morning. I pull a piece of crumpled paper out of my pocket and flatten it out. I pace it with the food and on it I write, 'good luck, be home by 1:00. I love you, ~ Prim'. Then I rushed upstairs, into my PJs and into bed with my mother. Not a minute later does katniss wake up and go downstairs. I hear her gasp when she sees the food, and then she comes back to me and strokes my hair gently, whispering

'I love you, too, prim.'

I wish I could jump up and hug her, but I don't. And she thinks I'm asleep. But I am not so I hear her footsteps leaving the house. I wish I were strong, like her, and I didn't have to wish that she would stay here and not go. But I am not. I am not strong, not brave, and not tough. No, I am not those things, not yet, anyway. But I am loving, and thoughtful, and understanding. Or, at least, that's what I'm told. When I start to wish I were more like Katniss, the only thing i can do is think of my own good traits.