For those of you who have read my works before, you know that this is a new area for me. I usually just write Twilight fanfictions, but this one popped into my head while I was writing chapter 20 for Children of the Moon (one of my current stories) and I had to write it. It wouldn't leave me alone! o_o IT STALKED ME!!
Basically, this is Prim's thoughts during the reaping, during Hunger Games.
Disclaimer: All characters and District 12 belongs to Suzanne Collins. You rock, girl! I know why Stephanie Meyer thought highly of this book!
"Primrose Everdeen!"
Fear. To be afraid.
This is not fear.
I was afraid when I learned Daddy died. I was afraid when Mother stopped caring and Katniss and I had to be stronger than ever. I was afraid when Katniss took me into the forest for the first time. I was afraid the first time I had to save someone's life, even though I had my mother's guidance. I was afraid the moment I turned twelve because I knew this could happen.
I knew that my name would be written on a single slip of paper and placed into a bowl along with the name slips of my sister, her friend Gale, and every other kid District 12 between my age and eighteen. Some horrible person comes with a cheerful disposition, claiming that it's time for the great Hunger Gamesand two of us are going to be given the privilege to play. One out of hundreds—thousands, maybe, but that's how many times your name has to be drawn before you are selected. Once.
Primrose Everdeen!
That woman seems so thrilled. She is beaming at the crowd, her eyes searching for the (un)lucky girl whose name she'd read.
I am shaking from head to toe and I am sure there is no color left in my face. I try to keep my breathing even and the tears off my face.
This is not fear. This is terror.
No, no, no, NO! I don't want to do this! I can't…I can't…
The crowd is murmuring now, some people are looking at me. I see sadness, rage, pain, worry, and shock. Then I feel my mother gently put her hand on my shoulder and I heard her sob once.
Slowly, barely moving, I make my way towards the stage. I keep my mouth sealed shut and my fists firmly at my sides. I know if I move too fast or open my mouth that I will scream, shout, cry, beg, plead…and run. I know if I do then my family, friends, and possibly my entire district will pay.
I must keep going…
I hear my mother crying behind me.
Don't look back, I tell myself. Keep going, keep going.
I don't understand. Why do I have to go fight to the death for something that happened almost a hundred years ago? It was decades before my birth! I didn't do anything! I've never disobeyed the Capitol!
Keep going…don't look around…keep going…
I don't want to die!
I see Katniss ahead. She's not looking at me, but directly at the stage. She looks like she's being supported by a boy just younger than her.
For Katniss, I think as I force myself onward. I gotta…I gotta do this for Katniss…I gotta go so Katniss can live.
I'm almost there.
Everyone in the crowd, on the stage, and the cameras—all of Panem—knows that I am Primrose Everdeen, that I am the girl tribute from District 12. That I have been selected to die…
"Prim!"
It's Katniss shouting. I force myself to not cry and keep trudging forward.
"Prim!" she shouts again and I hear her starting to run.
I don't look back, I keep going…
I raise one foot to walk of the steps…
A firm arm cuts me off and shoves me back. Stunned, it takes me a second to realize that Katniss, shaking with fear and desperation, is standing in front of me, hiding me, shielding me, defending me.
"I volunteer!" she gasps. "I volunteer as a tribute!"
NO!
My mouth falls open and I stare at the back of my sister's head.
"No!" I want to tell her. "No, Katniss, don't!" But I don't. I'm frozen with fear.
I don't hear what the pink-hair lady, Effie (or something like that), says.
But I hear the mayor.
"What does it matter?" he says, staring at Katniss with clear sadness and pain. "What does it matter?" he repeats after a second. "Let her come forward."
"NO!" I scream and start crying hysterically. "No, Katniss!" I wrap my arms around her, holding her back. "No! You can't go!"
"Prim, let go," she says harshly, angrily. I don't understand why. I don't let go. She won't go into the Games for me. She won't die because of me! I won't let her.
"Let go!" she repeats.
I shake my head and grip tighter, then I feel myself being picked up. I thrash and struggle in my holder's arms. I catch a glimpse of the face. Gale. I didn't understand. How could you?! I scream inside. She's your best friend!!!
I try to break free. I won't let her. I won't let her!!
"Up you go, Catnip." He says almost shakily. He's sad and scared.
He carries me away towards my mother. People stare at me, shocked.
"Quit fighting, kid." A man growls at me. "You wouldn't last two minutes in there!"
He's right. But at least Katniss would be safe!!
I see her on the stage when I get a chance to turn my head. Too late. I'm too late. She's officially a tribute.
"How could you?" I whisper to Gale, giving up.
He doesn't respond as he sets me beside my mother who immediately wraps her arms around me, yet she hasn't stopped crying. Gale stays put to make sure I don't try something.
I hear Effie finishing.
"What's your name?"
My sister swallows, I can see it even from here, but her voice is surprisingly strong. "Katniss Everdeen."
"I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want he to steal all the glory, do we?" Effie winks.
Glory? Glory!
For the first time, I am glad I am not a Capitol citizen. I would hate to be raised thinking that being selected to fight like an animal to the death is glory.
She disgusts me. they all do.
"Come on, everybody!" Effie trills merrily. "Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!"
Yeah right.
No one claps. Not a single one. Gale mutters a few choice words and where he thinks Effie should go.
Then I see something. It's amazing, and beautiful. It makes me cry again.
One at a time, then more and more, every citizen presses three fingers to their lips, then holds it out to my sister. I do it too, with my right hand, then with my left.
Goodbye, my sister. I think.
The old drunken Game's victor, Haymitch, decides to ruin the moment by lumbering up to Katniss, throwing his arm around her then declares right into the camera that my sister has more spunk than someone who's watching the broadcast. Probably the Capitol.
Then he falls off the stage.
I might've laughed, but I caught sight of Katniss' face then. The cameras weren't on her for a moment, and her face crumples. I see her sob once.
She knows. She knows what I know, what everyone here knows, deep down, even though we all want to deny it.
Haymitch is hauled away on a stretcher.
Katniss composes her face as the cameras go back to her.
I barely hear Peeta Mellark selected; I barely notice how horrified Katniss looks. All I can think about is what I want to deny so badly.
Katniss is going into that arena instead of me. She's going to be facing twenty-three other kids who are just as desperate to live as she is. She's going to the Capitol, to the Hunger Games, because of me.
Me, me, me, me…it's my fault. It's all my fault.
I start to cry.
My name was one out of thousands, and it was selected. And now Katniss was going to die.
I hate the Capitol.
They picked me and Katniss is going to die to save me.
So...love? Hate? Tell me what you think. I'm eager to see how people think I do outside of Twilight fanfics.
If this turned out as good as I hoped, I might do something with Foxface. She's...interesting to me. I almost wish she'd won the Games! (Sorry Katniss.)
*Note* This is a one-shot.