This is my first piece of fanfic! I'd love to hear your thoughts and hopefully I'll deliver a good story. :)

Disclaimer: I am not Suzanne Collins, nor do I own any rights to The Hunger Games series.

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1

Prim planted a kiss on the squashed face of her cat, Buttercup. "I wish I could take you with to the reaping."

"I wish he could be reaped instead of you." Katniss, dressed in Mother's lovely blue dress, winked just as Prim looked up in horror.

"Oh don't, Katniss. He'll think we don't like him." She rubbed behind his ears. Just one more kiss. His fur tickled Prim's nose and she giggled.

"Come on, little duck." Katniss tucked the in back of Prim's blouse, her movements a little jerkier than normal. Prim tried not to squirm, but the pile of worms in her stomach didn't help.

"What if it's me?" Her voice was less than a whisper—more like a thought that escaped in a wayward bubble of sound.

Silence.

"Katniss?" Prim looked up.

Katniss's adam's apple bobbed and she ran a hand over Prim's hair. "Your name is only in there once. Besides, I'll take care of you. I'll be right there with Mother, watching and protecting you."

The Hunger Games. How had Katniss stood through the reapings for six whole years and not turned completely gray? Well, if she could do it, so could Prim. Two kids were going to be sent to the Hunger Games today, and Prim pocketed the two goat cheeses she made for the families who'd be mourning the loss.

She didn't tell Katniss. Sometimes Katniss viewed Prim's generosity as waste, especially if the goat cheese went to a wealthy family. But Prim couldn't imagine bidding farewell to Katniss or to Mother…or even Buttercup. She had to give the mourners something.

Goat cheese helped anything.

Maybe, while they sat in the pockets of her skirt, they'd bring her luck at the reaping….

…or maybe not.

Prim couldn't bear the weight of this moment. She stuck her bottom lip out, hoping a fake pout would loosen the knots in her veins. "I wish I was nineteen, like you, about to get married to a handsome miner." And safe from the reaping.

Katniss's light laugh sounded forced. "Don't let Gale hear you say that, he might change his mind and marry you instead."

Prim made a face. "He's too old. Besides, I'd never go hunting with him like you do." Her lip quivered at the memory of when Katniss tried to teach her how to hunt. Her big sister was such a good shot with the bow and arrow, but Prim couldn't bear to see the animals wounded.

"Time to go."

Prim slipped her small hand into Katniss's. Her sister's skin was a lifeline to courage. They reached the square far too soon. Be brave. Be strong. Like Katniss. She tried not to watch as Katniss walked away to stand beside Mother and her fiancé Gale.

We'll be apart for only an hour. One hour. Prim's chin quivered. What if she was reaped and never got to see the wedding?

She filed in line with her classmates and all the other twelve-year-olds from District Twelve. The sun beat down, burning her skin and sending droplets of sweat from her brow to her temples. The other kids in her line stood stiff with wide eyes. Pale, despite their tans.

Did Prim look like that?

What if she was reaped and she had to—gulp—kill someone in the arena? She couldn't. She'd die first. Prim's eyes flitted upward, despite her attempt to be courageous, until they landed on Katniss again. Deep breath. Katniss was there. Katniss would protect her.

The terror was so thick in Prim's mind that she didn't even notice the usual video about Panem's rise to power and the rebellion of District Thirteen. She barely heard the clack of Effie Trinket's beautiful heels as she climbed the platform. She hardly registered, "Ladies first!" until Effie's hand swirled around in the giant fishbowl of names.

Then Prim startled—startled from the memory of why she stood in line, of what might come in the next three seconds. No. Please. Not me! Not...anybody!

Effie's manicured fingers latched on to a piece of paper. Prim gasped for breath. It wasn't enough. She needed more air. Her vision swirled—she couldn't bear this tension. Not me! Not me!

Effie pulled out the paper, unfolded it, and smiled. "Primrose Everdeen!"

Prim's knees buckled, but the terror evaporated. Now she knew. No more waiting, no more wondering. She was going into the Hunger Games.

And she would die.

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To be continued...

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~If you like my writing, please check out my own dystopian book, A Time to Die (by Nadine Brandes), on Amazon~

How would you live if you knew the day you'd die? Parvin Blackwater believes she has wasted her life. At only seventeen, she has one year left according to the Clock by her bedside. In a last-ditch effort to make a difference, she tries to rescue Radicals from the government's crooked justice system. But when the authorities find out about her illegal activity, they cast her through the Wall - her people's death sentence. What she finds on the other side about the world, about eternity, and about herself changes Parvin forever and might just save her people. But her clock is running out.