The Hunger Games - Primrose Everdeen

Chapter six

Really sorry guys!! I accedently deleted chapter four. Also I didn't mean to publish this chapter yet so it's verrry short. I'll make the next chapter what I guess would be the secound part to this. I'll do it A.S.A.P. AND PLEASE COMMENT!!! IF I WANT TO MAKE STORY BETTER I NEED TO KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS THINK!!!

The next few days of training aren't as bad. This time I actually try to learn an actual weapon instead of just napping in the net - which wasn't very good for my back. Number one because I fell. Number two because the rope wasn't enjoyed by my back. But I'm doing pretty well with the bow and arrows, not Katniss or Gale good, but very much improved. Also, I've been spending time at the survival stations and found out that I have a knack for survival. Something that isn't very easy to learn. I can even set snares and start fires quite easily.

I figured out that I just bruised a rib. Most likely it will hurt the first day in the arena but if I make it past the first day - which means not going into the Cornucopia, of course - it won't affect me unless I injure it again. That is when I would be in trouble. 

After a good nights sleep Effie knocks on my door. "Up, Up, Up! It's going to be a big, big, big day!" Why must she sound so cheery and joyful when Peeta and I are being sent off to death. But, in a way she is correct. Today is a huge day. Instead of actual training, we get a private session infront of the gamemakers. Basically, we show off our skills to the gamemakers and they then rate our skills on a scale of 1 - 12. One being the lowest and twelve being the highest.

Before leaving my elegant room for breakfeast, I change into my training outfit. Quickly, I pull back my hair into a bun. As fast as I possibly can, I make myself as presentable as possible. Thankfully, due to the prep work done before the Tribute Parade, it isn't hard work at all.

I'm finally ready to take on the day. With a big breathe - knowing that today may well determine my future - I walk out of my room and head towards the dinning hall.

"Hi, Prim." No one has called me Prim in days. All of a sudden I feel as if I'm at home again. I spin around, praying that somehow Katniss is here to save me, but it's just Peeta.

"Oh, hello." I greet him with a softly spoken voice. Why is he talking to me? If either one of us are to make it out of this arena that means the unltimate death of the other tribute, which we each know would definetely be me.

He smiles. It seems as if he beleives that I would just shrug him off. "Prepared for the private session already?"

I would to point out how obvious that is, but I don't want to be rude. "Yes. I thought that we were supposed to."

Peeta laughs, showing his perfectly white and straight teeth. Of course, as a boy from the richer area of District Twelve, he was able to have better hygeine than the rest of us in the Seam. "Guess if I'm wrong than I'll just have to get ready after breakfeast. Effie will make whoever is wrong a big point at breakfeast." Somehow, it's impossible not to laugh at that. Although, I try to hold it in so I make this weird snorting sound instead. 

At breakfeast we find out that Peeta was right about both things, me being wrong, and Effie making it a big point. "But, Primrose, don't feel bad. After all this shows that you are prepared and can think for yourself. Show's that you've made a lot of improvemnt over the past days."

It's so hard to tell if she is meaning to be rude or if this is just her secound nature. Sometimes she makes me beleive that it's both. Because, to be honest, on occasions Effie is so unpleasently honest that she is so snarky that it must be both.

The food is delicious, as usual. Today, they made pancakes. It's my first time tasting the scrumptious, syrup soaked, buttered up pancakes. Maybe, just maybe, it's my favorite dish so far. I would call it a delicacy, but last night at supper I called all of the food an absoulute delicacy and Effie corrected my wording, saying that, "a delicacy is a dish that is rarely consumed. Due to one or multiple causes. Lack in the ingredients, much too expensive, or foreign ingredients."

After we finish eating, I am informed that I have about an hour until that we must go to the private sessions, but since I am already ready, I just go back to my room and lay on the bed, staring out the window that peers out at the shinning Capitol. Beyond the Capitol, there is some small place called District Twelve. In that small District there's a young girl and a mother deathly worried about a small twelve-year old girl, facing the very heart of death.

Tears spring from my eyes. Now isn't the time for tears. I know that I must stop them immediately. Every tribute will be there. From the reaping they know how nervous and scared I am, but to show them that I haven't gotten use to the idea of my death, well that' sjust the unlitmate sign of weakness.

The hour ticks away and too soon, I head off towards the elevator. Effie and Peeta wait for me, Effie with  her silly little smile on her face. "Let's go, Primrose."

I remember the sense of home and security I got when Peeta called me Prim. It seemed foreign after days of being call Primrose, but I enjoyed it. "From now on, you may call me Prim. That is, if you'd like to."

"If you would preffer to be called Prim, then that would be just fine." Effie says kindly.

"Yes, please." I answer sweetly. 

We get onto the elevator and skyrocket downwards. Even though I have used this elevator tens of times it still takes my breath away.