Primrose

Coincidence

"Primrose…" I started to say, but before I could argue, she spoke.

"Call me Prim, please, it's what everyone calls me," she smiled but it faded, "Well, used to."

"Prim, you need to get this straight. Your sister doesn't need me after all of this. She made that very clear when she said I'd be dead if I come back and you don't," I told her. Her head jerked up.

"She doesn't mean that," she said, "I know she'd understand." She was so mature for being a twelve-year-old. I couldn't imagine myself four years ago being able to stay calm in this situation. I wasn't even that calm right now.

"It doesn't matter anyways, I have no chance. The odds are not in my favor," I said. She thought of me too highly and this false sense of hope would only end badly.

"You really think so?" she asked, "Is it really a coincidence that you and I were picked?"

"What are you trying to say, Prim?" I lean more forward wanting to hear her answer.

"Never mind," she looks down at her lap. Her fingers are tangled around the ribbon latched onto her dress. I want to ask her about what she meant, but I don't want to make her cry. That's the last thing I want to do.

"Do you want to look around?" I try to distract her from imagining the worst.

"Sure!" she responds.

We walk towards the door and I pick a few cookies on the way and hand her one, "you know I've always wanted to expand our collection of cookies, but we are never given enough rations to experiment." When she took the cookie, my mind flashed back to the day I tossed the bread to Katniss. I hated thinking of what I had done. I had burnt the bread that morning and mother took me out back and yelled at me as she usually does. I then saw her. Katniss, starving and cold, was lying against a tree in the pouring rain. I split the bread in half and throwing one in the pig pen and one on the ground near her. I was a jerk. I should have went over to her and handed it to her, but instead I tossed it as if she was an animal too. I had spent nights replaying that moment in my head and tried to forget what I had done, but it was impossible.

The door slides open without me touching a button or unlatching the door. It's like my presence is enough to open it. Prim looks through the crack where the door went, "Why does the door disappear like that? Do the capital people think it's too hard to open doors?"

I chuckle at her youthful innocence, but it is also depressing to watch. A child still questioning everything in the world is pushed into a place with too much hate and misery for them to understand why.

She will never understand.

This room has a table with six chairs. A lace table cloth drapes over the edges. Behind the dining set, a sofa and chairs is pushed against the wall. There is a light fixture above the table with crystals that reflect the light in all directions. I looked out the window to see a sunset across the fields. We then suddenly entered a tunnel. I could see my reflection now against the glass and Prim's was right beside mine. I smiled when she looked at me through the reflection, but then I hesitated. She looked so familiar. Her eyes reminded me of my father. They were blue unlike everyone else's in District Twelve. Even her golden hair was considered rare in the District. Only a few had those traits, including my father…and her mother. This was no more a smiling matter or a coincidence. This was too much for me to comprehend, but so blatant that I questioned myself for not noticing it earlier. I knew my father must have had some reasoning for telling me to take care of her, but I didn't expect the reasoning to be that the girl beside me was my… sister? I barely knew her, yet she was definitely my sister, or half since she isn't my mother's child. She was too nice to be my mother's child.

"Is something wrong?" she must have been staring at me this whole time.

"No," I lied, "not at all. I think I'm going to find my bedroom. I'm really tired. Do you mind?"

"No, I'll go find Effie," she walked the other way and I watched her. Did she know? When she said that the both of us being here might not be just a coincidence, was she hinting to me that she knew? I thought for a moment, and realized I was over analyzing it. I stood there for a while to let my discovery sink in. Primrose Everdeen, my sister, it was hard get my mind wrapped around that concept. It was unheard of for a married man and a married woman from different relationships to have a child.

Katniss, her sister is my sister, yet we were not related. I couldn't fathom how awkward it would have been if Katniss was actually my sister, but Katniss couldn't have been. She had her father's eyes. I walk to the next cabin and to the next ignoring all that I walk by. I still try to understand our situation

Then it all ties together. It hits me as fast as the train is moving. My knees wobble and I stumble onto the floor. Prim and I are in the Hunger Games. Brother and sister, fighting for our lives, but we cannot come out alive together. My heart sinks.

How can I go on knowing my sister is going to die? My stomach turns as the thought rolls through my head and the chills run down my spine.

I can't.