The Hanging Tree. *ON HOLD*

Chapter One ~ The Reaping

~ Chapter One ~ The Reaping

4 years later.

I yawned, as I stretched my arms above my head. I sighed, annoyed that I hadn’t managed to get a wink of sleep. Although between anxieties for today and mum’s frantic nightmares, I didn’t expect much. Come to think of it, I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since I was very young. Waking up to mum’s screams every night prevented me from the necessity of 8 hours sleep. I don’t blame her though. She’s been through a lot. And it kills me to see her relive her nightmares in every walking step.

I see the way she looks at me and Finnick, the regret that flashes through her eyes. It was only when I had turned 15 that I realized she didn’t actually love us, not as much as normal mothers would anyway. No Prim! What are you saying! She’s your mother of course she loves you, I scolded myself. But why was it so hard to believe?

Other Mum’s wouldn’t tune out of life suddenly. Other Mum’s wouldn’t look at their children with regret and guilt in their eyes, but instead with love and care. Other Mum’s would be here with their children on this dreadful day. Other Mum’s would be comforting their children, telling them it was going to be all right.

But it’s not.

I am the child of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. The two people who defied the Capitol so much that they eventually bought it crashing down. I know that today of all days, my family will not be treated as normal. We will not have a fair chance, as today is reaping day.

It was announced last month that there would be a final Hunger Games to mark the beginning of a fresher, better era. President Paylor had died, or as I like to point out, murdered. The country had gone into a panic when she died. What if the Hunger Games was reinstated? What if the districts got destroyed? What if life as we knew it would come crashing down? Blah blah blah.

Everyone knew it was going to happen someday. It was inevitable. They just never thought it would come so soon.

And so President Snow’s granddaughter, the victor of the 76th Hunger Games thought it was best if she stepped up and took her rightful place as leader of Panem.  There was nobody to object meaning that no one could stop her coming into power.

She became president and her first act of presidency was to host a final Hunger Games, just the one. Then it would all be over. Panem would be rebuilt, the districts merged into one and life as we know it united. But I wouldn’t live to see that. Finnick and I have the highest chances of becoming tributes. Pamela Snow, or should I say President Snow, is just like her Grandfather. She hates both my parents and to see them lose their children would give her great pleasure.

Finn is now 15. His birthday was last week, but we couldn’t celebrate. It would just mean that he had another slip of paper with his name carefully printed on it in the reaping bowl.

On his birthday we just sat in his bedroom, me on the floor facing him and him on the bed facing me. We locked the door but Mum and Dad didn’t even try to bother us. Finn and I had always been close, but that day I made myself a promise. I wasn’t going to let my little brother die.

I was 17 which meant my name was in there 5 times. Finnick’s was in there 3 times. Though it didn’t matter, we’d still get reaped however many times our names were in there.

‘Prim. Get up darling.’ My mother was stood over my bed gently shaking my shoulders. I pretended to wake up from a deep sleep, trying to cover up the fact that I had been haunted that whole night and hadn’t managed to close my eyes. I saw my Mum’s eyes before the rest of her face. They were puffy and red, rimmed with water. I chocked back a sob as I saw her. This is what had happened to her after the games. This is what they turned her into. Without thinking I threw my arms around her neck and buried my face in the crook of her neck. She seemed startled and rightly so. I don’t remember the last time I physically showed her affection. Eventually she wrapped her arms around me and hugged me back. We sat there for a while, in each other’s arms not saying what we were both thinking. After a while Mum pulled away and held me at arm’s length. I was almost as tall as her now.