The 80th Hunger Games: A Time for Revenge

Prim's Reaping

A/N: Thanks everyone for all of the votes and comments, I'm up to over forty for both!  Please continue to help me out there!

I'm sorry I started this over...  Eh, not really.  Maybe some of you'll start to root for Prim after reading these next few chapters...

Chapter Fourteen:

        I know it’s Reaping Day, but it doesn’t bother as much anymore.  But that’s not to say that it doesn’t bother me at all.  After I was Reaped six years ago, I knew that the odds were in no-one’s favor, even the twelve year old girl with only one slip of paper could wind up fighting for her life in the arena.  After my sister, Katniss won the 74th Games, I know how to survive.   Being forced to watch her, out there in the wilderness, I’ve caught on to that way of doing things.  I don’t need to, obviously, I live in Victor’s Village, but still, if the time were ever to come that I would have to compete, I could do it.

           After waking, I clothe in a plain blue dress, much like the one Katniss had worn.  She and Mom are already awake, and when I come out to the dining room table, my breakfast has been prepared.  After eating, I walk out with my family to the town’s square, where many children are waiting.

           “Good luck,” Katniss says to me as I go to get my blood sample taken.  The pinch doesn’t bother me anymore.  I stand in the back with the other eighteen year olds, but none of my friends are in sight.  After a few more minutes, Effie Trinket struts onto the stage.  She’s wearing a short, baby-blue dress equipped with a thick layer of hideous makeup.  It’s quite disturbing, actually.

           “Hello everyone!” she gleefully begins, “Today will be the day we choose one lucky boy and girl to compete in the 80th annual Hunger Games!  May the odds be ever in your favor.  And as usual, ladies first!”

           I don’t understand how she can be so joyful when she’s sending two teens to their deaths.  Her hand swirls around in the bowl, reaching for just the right slip of paper.  Without any tesserae taken, I have seven in their total.  I know I won’t be me.  Won’t it?  She finally feels the right one, and pulls it out.  The envelope is opened.

           “District Twelve’s female tribute is…” Not me, not me. “Primrose Everdeen!”

           I feel my heart literally stopped when I heard my name called again.  Katniss couldn’t save me, not this time.  I step out of the crowd and feel hundreds of eyes staring holes into my skin.  Effie even looks at me in horror.  Nobody volunteers for me.  This can’t be stopped.  She tries to smile at me, but it looks forced and unreal.

           “And now for the boys,” she declares.  Once again, her hand enters another glass bowl.  She picks a name from the bottom.  “Cyrus Juniper.”

           The name sounds familiar to me.  When Cyrus comes onstage, I recognize him from my school.  He’s a year younger than me.  I can see his fear seeping from his veins as he stumbles upon to the stage.  People like him were the ones you would see and feel bad for.  A child of the children from the Seam, malnourished and thin as a bone.

           “Now shake hands,” Effie tells us.  His hand is shaking wildly, but I know mine is too.  “Everyone, meet your tributes!”  This was when you were supposed to clap.  I’d never seen it here, but in Districts One, Two, and usually Four, the crowd would go wild, knowing that their tribute would most likely emerge victorious.

           Effie takes us to the back of the stage to a set of rooms designed for the tributes to say goodbye to their families, usually forever.  When I enter, Mom and Katniss run in.  I’ve never seen them so distraught.  They’re hugging me and crying, and so am I.  I can’t come back.  No.  I will come back.  They can’t even seem to force out words until they leave: “You have to win Prim, you have to.”  Before the door is shut behind them, Katniss throws me some sort of gold ring.  It’s her mockingjay pin.  To keep me safe.

           Next in are my friends from school.  They can’t control themselves either.  We’re all trying to comfort each other, but it’s no use.  They won’t be able to cope with this.  I can’t see one more person now, the pain is becoming unbearable.

           Since I’m not letting anyone else in, Effie takes me to the train.  “It’s time to leave, Prim.”