Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games Trilogy; Suzanne Collins does.

A/N: I began writing this and then re-read the book, so some parts won't follow exactly like the books. In this chapter, Katniss returns early from hunting and gathering before Prim and her mother get ready for the reaping.

I climb into Mother's bed, pressing into her side like I always do when I'm anxious.

Tomorrow is the day of the reaping. Only last year did my family allow me to watch the Games, but even then, they covered my eyes and ears whenever something bad happened - which was pretty often.

I want to tell them that I'm big and can handle it so they won't have to shield me anymore.

But I can't.

I know Katniss, Gale, Rory, or anyone else can get picked. Including me. Even from my limited knowledge of the Hunger Games, I know that the reaped would die. Always.

Katniss takes care of everyone. Gale, too. What would happen to us if one of them left? I push that thought away quickly. I don't want to think of that. It might be considered bad luck.

I rest my cheek on Mother's cool arm and try to sleep. I feel Buttercup's fur tickling my shoulder and I reach out to stroke his head. He purrs.

I wake up to the bright sunlight streaming through our tiny window. Mother is sorting through her old dresses at the opposite end of the room. Katniss is lying on her stomach, propped up on her elbows and gazing at me distractedly.

"Katniss?" I say quietly. She's not blinking. "Katniss," I repeat when she doesn't reply. She finally blinks and sets her gray eyes at me.

"Oh," she says, looking startled. "Prim, are you alright?"

"Fine, of course," I answer slowly.

Something doesn't feel right about my sister. She seems different somehow. Skittish, maybe, with a nervous air around her. Or I could just be imagining it...?

Katniss blushes, gazing down at her hands, "I just thought - your first reaping...and..."

She's worried about me, I realize immediately. I smile brightly to reassure her. "Katniss, I really am fine. Mostly just worried for you and Gale."

They've taken a lot more tesserae than anyone else that I know. Katniss returns my grin weakly, not looking the least bit comforted.

Mother calls my name softly, holding up the smallest outfit she could find. I think it was my sister's first Reaping clothing too. I can tell it won't fit me too well. It's pretty, though. A white ruffled blouse and a dark brown skirt with small flowers sewn on it. Mother helps me get dressed and gently tightens it using pins, making sure not to prick me. She tucks the blouse in and neatly plaits my hair into two perfect braids.

Katniss takes a quick bath and pulls on her Reaping dress - a beautiful slender blue one with matching flats. Mother braids my sister's hair also, twisting and weaving it to make a crown above her forehead. She tugs a wispy stray strand of hair right back in the fancy braid before changing her mind and crisscrossing it over the back of Katniss's neck and finally finishing it like my sister's usual side braid.

I stare at her, amazed at how beautiful my sister looks and feel myself rising on the tip of my toes to touch the shiny, silky, dark brown hair. I jerk back abruptly, horrified at myself for almost ruining Mother's hard work. I quickly fold my hands together, noticing my cheeks heating up. Mother smiles and winks at me before turning away, pretending she didn't see what I almost did. I sheepishly glance at Katniss again, watching her gaze at her reflection through our cracked mirror. She's trying to hide a frown; I can tell because the corners of her mouth keep on twitching unhappily. I don't understand - she's beautiful. I tell her that. Katniss forces a light smile and replies, cautious to not hurt my feelings.

"And I look nothing like myself."

She suddenly pulls me into a tight hug and I squeeze her warmly, trying not to hold on to long; she might discover how truly terrified I am with the prospect of being eligible for the Games. Katniss must have seen something in my expression because she doesn't let go.

"It'll be alright, Prim," she murmurs comfortingly. "Only one slip in thousands. You won't get picked."

"I know," I whisper back, voice cracking slightly.

Katniss gently raises my chin using her fingertips so that I can look straight into her deep solemn eyes.

"Listen to me: You will not get picked," she says firmly, almost harshly.

I flinch and nod hurriedly.

"I'm sorry," Katniss apologizes, planting a kiss in my hair and stepping back.

I smile to let her know that I'm alright and she's forgiven.

"Tuck in your tail, little duck," she says calmly, as if our brief exchange never happened.

I stare at her in bewilderment before she laughs and brushes my blouse into the skirt. Oh. Then, I finally register what she called me.

"Quack," I reply, giggling. I reach over to feel the back of the skirt to check.

"Quack yourself," Katniss laughs again. My sister looks so pretty when she smiles. The corner of her eyes crinkle happily and she looks so relaxed, finally carefree. "Come on, let's eat." She swings my arm affectionately and drags me to the table.

On the stove, there is a stew of fish and greens for supper. The bakery bread (which for some strange reason had an arrow in it until Katniss pulled said arrow out while hiding a smile) and strawberries are for dinner. We drink some of Lady's goat milk and eat our regular bread from the tesserae grain. I'm sure her milk tastes as lovely as always - sweet, rich, and creamy - but despite my sister's reassurances, I can't help but feel that horrible sinking feeling in my stomach that tells me something will go wrong. Mother pours me more milk, silently urging me to eat more. I force another slice of bread and two more glasses of milk. Mother squeezes my hand appreciatively, understanding what I did for her.