All rights go to Suzanne Collins. Too bad she killed all our favorite characters off... You know?

I stand in the town square. I see a Capitol woman; grotesque hair, huge eyes, a wide, eerie smile. Her yellow eyes lock with mine, and her eyes are too joyful for someone who sentences two people to their deaths. Haymitch stumbles on stage. The woman says," Ladies first." A second passes by, and sweat trickles down my neck. It feels as if time has slowed down. Rory stands next to me, but he says nothing, just stares ahead at a fixed point. What happened to my friend? The woman whispers, but the words are clear," May the odds be ever in your favor." She picks a sheet and unrolls it. The name shocks me and I shake.
Primrose Everdeen.

"No!" I scream. I jolt up in bed next to Katniss. How can my sister be so calm, when her name is in there 20 times? I am terrified; for myself as well as my sister. I climb into bed with my mother. I don't want to wake Katniss, so I curl up next to Mother. Katniss hates Mother. Ever since Father died, Mother started closing off. She would sit in a chair and stare at nothing. Eventually Katniss couldn't take it anymore. She screamed at Mother and stormed out. I could tell Katniss hated our mother. I couldn't blame her. Mother had done nothing, letting an eleven-year old girl provide for herself and her little sister. But that made Katniss strong. Katniss takes after Father. He hunted, she's a hunter, he loved to sing, she's an amazing singer, and so on. I take after my mother. Quiet, shy but understanding, underestimated, and I'm more of a medic than a hunter.

When I wake up again, my sister is gone. So is the cheese I made as a present, my father's hunting jacket, and her boots. she must be out hunting. In the Meadow. The Meadow is as the name suggests, a large meadow, leading to a forest. I don't know much of that; it's locked with an electrical fence, and is dangerous, so I rarely go. That is where Katniss goes hunting. She has perfect aim after years of practice. Then, she goes to sell it in the Hob, an illegal black market. I go there too, sometimes, but all that is mostly Katniss' job. I stay at home, make cheese, do odd jobs, and help my mother in healing. Buttercup meows at me, and I fondly scratch his head. Mother is up and baking bread from tessera grain. She smiles and beckons me to the tub. I scrub myself clean, pretending I am washing away my insecurities. But they come rushing back once I step out. Mother is dressed in a dress from a long time ago, and she laid out a ruffled blouse and skirt for me. Katniss wore it for her first reaping too, and it's a bit bigger. Mother notices and pins it up, forming a duck tail. Katniss comes back, covered in dirt and sweat. She sets some good bread and half a gallon of strawberries on the table, and takes her turn to wash. I look in the mirror, and I see someone who is not myself. This girl is beautiful, and her hair is in two braids, and so on. But I feel like myself. Katniss walked out, and she looked gorgeous. Her hair was up and she was wearing one of Mother's dresses, a soft blue one. "You look beautiful" I tell her, because she is. "And nothing like myself." She throws back. I must have looked terrified, because she hugs me. I take comfort in her embrace, her strong arms, the distant smell of pine trees. For a second, a flash of something-panic?- flits across her face. Then, she is calm. "Tuck your tail in, little duck." She tells me. I giggle. "Quack." "Quack yourself." She laughs. My sister's laugh is filled with love and joy; it makes you want to make her laugh. "Come on, let's eat." She plants a kiss on my head and steer me to the table. I feel safe here, all my problems gone, just me and my family, together.

We eat the grainy bread from tessera, and drink milk from Lady, a goat Katniss got me for my birthday. I love Lady, a sweet gift and useful companion. I'm not very hungry, and I play with my food. Out of the corner of my eye, Katniss eats little food, too. Is my fearless sister nervous too? Scared, helpless?

It is one o' clock. We head down to the town square. My stomach clenches in nervousness, and I grip Katniss' hand. Everyone is lined up, waiting for Peacekeepers to take a blood sample. I shudder, and my brain moves through fog. They prick my finger, and the small dot of pain clears my head. I walk trembling to the back, with all the twelve-year olds. We are a sniveling, crying mess. I want to cry too. I lock eyes with Rory, Gale's younger brother. He comes over, and our hands come together. For reassurance. I tell myself, but is that true? My heart flutters, and I flush. Why am I acting this way? All in our group listens to Effie Trinket, the Capitol lady, of how the Hunger Games came to be. Mayor Undersee sits in a chair in the front. Effie is onstage, so her seat is empty. So is the third chair. Katniss told me that was where Haymitch, one of District Twelve's living victors sit, but she also told me he was drunk most of the time. I am sweating now, Effie's eyes look into the crowd, as if contemplating which two of us will go. I see the two glass bowls holding thousands of slips. One name, Prim, just one name. I know, but this is my first Hunger Games. Anyone younger than twelve is not allowed to watch. I will either go in, or watch a gory death of an innocent person. Effie walks to the first bowl. A bead of sweat drips down the back of my neck. I let go of Rory's hand. "Ladies first." She says. Her heels click. Her hand drops. She pulls out a name. It's not Katniss Everdeen. It's not Madge Undersee. It's not Delly Cartwright, or any of my friends or my sister's friends names. It's me.

This'll be a two-shot thing. 3 R&R

Annabeth Tris Chase