Not a Tale of Love

Chapter 3

Pure fear engulfed my mind. I could hear the pounding of my heart in my head as I crept stiffly toward the stage steps. Though I was blind to all around me, my ears heard a sort of panicked shuffling and, just before I reached the steps, my senses returned.

     “Prim!” My sister’s voice filled the square, “I volunteer!” A hush fell over all of District 12, “I volunteer as tribute.” Painfully hot tears rushed from my eyes as a group of peacekeepers escorted Katniss to the stage. I stumbled over to her and clung to her and refused to let go. Just then, two strong arms wrapped themselves around my waist and tore me away from her. I shouted and screamed and kicked, trying with all the strength left in my shuddering body to break free from Gale’s iron grip.

     My efforts were unsuccessful. I watched in agony as the girl who had kept me alive all these years ascended onto the stage and gazed blankly and pitifully out at the crowd. She could not bear to look at me, and I could not bear to look away from her.

     I paid no attention as Ms. Trinket announced the male tribute. I only saw who it was when Katniss moved across the platform to shake the boy’s hand. Peeta Mellark. I’d caught him staring at Katniss now and then… Just staring.

     More peacekeepers dragged my sister and Peeta into the Justice building as the large, wooden double-doors closed behind them.

     Soon afterward, my mother took my hand and, together, we followed another group of peacekeepers into the Justice building and down a dusty corridor. We were shoved into a room where my sister was waiting atop an exquisite velvet sofa. I ran to her and hugged her, sobbing all the while. Our mother stood there like a statue, a look of pity plastered on her unusually pale face. “You have to try to win for me, Katniss. You have to try to win.”

            “I will, Prim.” I could tell that my sister was trying very hard not to cry. Clearing her throat, Katniss stood and strode over to our mother. She whispered something in her ear that I didn’t quite catch, then hugged her and bent down to hug me again. A peacekeeper opened the door to the room and two more entered. They clasped their gloved hands around mine and my mother’s arms and began to force us from the room.

I did not want to leave my sister. “You have to win!” I managed to scream before the door was slammed in my face. Soon, I would be forced to watch as twenty-three other tributes would try to kill my sister. And as she tried to kill them…