Did she just say my name?

Everyone's looking at me. This informs me that, yes, my name was pulled from all the others in the drawing. Yes, Effie said it. Yes, I'm a tribute.

A tribute.

My mind is racing but I force myself to start walking forward towards the make-shift stage.

The Hunger Games. I'm a tribute. How? How will I kill anyone? Will I kill anyone? How will I survive? Will they have berries and plants? What could my score be? The highest, I think to myself, I could ever hope for is a six. That's pushing it, too. Wasn't there only one slip of papers with my name on it? How could the odds be out of my favor this much? Will Katniss, will mom, be okay if I don't come back home? If I die in the arena?

Thinking of them is what makes my eyes start to water and what pulls me back to reality. I have to stay strong. I can't let these people, these people who will be betting on whether I live or die, see me cry. I finally get to the steps of the stage when I hear my name.

"Prim!" She yells. "Prim!"

The next thing I know, I'm shoved behind my sister and she's in front of me looking up at Effie and The Mayor.

"I volunteer! I volunteer as a tribute!"

The crowd starts to murmur in confusion at Katniss volunteering to take my place. My heart clenches. My hands, which I just realized are in fists, clench harder, I'm having trouble breathing, and my stomach feels like it's found its way into my neck. I can't allow my sister to take my place, to fight to the death! I don't want to see come back home in a wooden coffin!

"Lovely!" Says Effie with enthusiasm. How could she be so happy my sister might die? That any of us might die? She doesn't have the fear of the reaping like we do. "But I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner," that's me, I guess ",and then asking for volunteers and if one does come forth, then we um.." She doesn't know what happens. No one volunteers anymore, unless they're a career. Who would want to volunteer for a chance to die, anyway?

I'm fighting to keep from sobbing, my eyes dead-set on Katniss and tears running down my cheeks.

"What does it matter?" Mayor Undersee says, sadly. "What does it matter? Let her come forward." Katniss, go forward on the stage? My sister, who sings to me? Who sleeps by me each night, who's tried to teach me to hunt? Who we rely on?

I love my sister.

I lose it. I don't care what the cameras see anymore, I don't care what everyone watching thinks. I squeeze my arms around Katniss, as if that will stop her from going on stage, and start sobbing. This is my sister. The one I grew up with, the one who puts food on the table, the one who got me a goat for my birthday, the one who can't stand the sight of blood.

"No, Katniss! No! You can't go!" I yell to her, forgetting about everyone around. My sister can't go into the Hunger Games. She just can't. I won't let her go. I can't stand the thought of losing her.

"Prim. Let go." Katniss says, a little sternly. She must think that I'm making a fool of her, but she looks so calm at volunteering. How could she be? How could she so okay with this? "Let go!" She yells.

The one thing that makes me go is Gale, Katniss' hunting partner and best friend. I'm off the ground in seconds, his raising me up, and I don't like being in the air. I fight to get back down, I fight to get Katniss back in my arms and fight to keep her from going on that stage and leaving forever to the Capitol.

I won't let them have her.

"Up you go, Catnip." Gale says nonchalantly. He doesn't seem fazed by the fact that Katniss is going to be on a train to the Capitol in a few hours, either. Just like her. Gale carries me to my mother, and I bury my head in her stomach – just as I did before dad died.

She seems scared. Shell-shocked. But she just stares up towards the stage, and plays around with my hair.

I hear Effie's Capitol accent. "Well, bravo! That's the spirit of the Games! What's your name?"

"Katniss Everdeen." She says cooly, with no emotion. That should be me up there.

"I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we? Come on everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!"

Silence is all I hear.

I peep out of my mother's dress, now tear stained from my tears to find out what's going on. I see that everyone is giving Katniss the three-fingered salute of District 12. The good-bye salute. The one that's given at funerals.

Even my mother. I join in too, my tears coming harder now.

Haymitch then staggers in, drunk as a skunk. Which makes me smile a little through my tears. He walks across the stage to Katniss. "Look at her." He says. I bet Katniss can smell the alcohol on his breath. I would if I were up there. If I were Haymitch and had gone what he had gone through, what my sister is about to go through, I would be drunk most of the day too I think. "Look at this one! I like her! Lots of.." He pauses, thinking. "Spunk!" He throws the word out and makes me smile again.

If anyone has spunk, it's Katniss. My sister, Katniss. If you illegally hunt every week and take care of your family after your father dies, you have to have spunk. My thoughts are cut short at Haymitch yelling again.

"More than you!" He walks away from Katniss, towards the front of the stage with his eyes set on the camera. What is he rambling about? Part of me knows it's because he's drunk. The other part can find no other reason. "More than you!" He yells again, pointing at the crowd. Or maybe the camera?

Before anything else is said, he falls off the stage and my palm meets my face.

Oh, Haymitch. Only Haymitch and District 12 would have a reaping like this. A stretcher comes to take him away and I watch as he passes us. He's alright, and that's good.

"What an exciting day!" Effie says.

That's an understatement, I think. It's entertainment to them.

And to me, this is possibly the worst day of my life.

Songs I remember being played while writing:

Dani California – Red Hot Chili Peppers

Me VS the World – Simple Plan

Independence Day – Martina McBride

The Kind - Flyleaf