What Could've Happened With Prim

"Primrose Everdeen!"

I can't seem to shake the sound of Effie Trinket's voice calling my name at the reaping out of my head. Every night as I lay hopelessly in bed I replay that moment over and over; it was either that or to anticipate what's to come. I think back to when I'd stepped up onto the big stage and faced the huge crowd, seeing a sea of disappointed faces. Why had everyone looked so sad? Sometime between that confusing moment and now I've decided it was because they must all know Katniss and used to know my dad. Plus I'm only twelve, and everyone's always in disgrace when a child is chosen in their first year. Yes, I believe it must've been a combination of those three reasons.

I pull the soft, silky covers right up to my chin and curl up tight when I think of Katniss. I miss her so much along with my mom, and Buttercup. Oh how I would give up almost anything to have Buttercup lying next to me right now. I squeeze my eyes shut and imagine his solid warmth against my body, lying unmoving to protect me from all the dangers that I will be soon encountering. I imagine myself stroking his long soft fur, listening to his gentle purr as I drift away…

But of course he's not here, and I'm not going to be drifting away anytime soon. Despite the extreme level of comfort of this Capitol bed, it's just not the same as back in District 12 when I'm with my family, where I belong. I should be there right now, taking care of Buttercup, milking Lady, helping my mom cook and clean and heal people, sleeping beside Katniss. But I'm never going to go back there again, I'm never going to see any of them or speak a word to them again before my life ends. Tears burn in my eyes, and begin to spill out, making dark dots my pillow. Soon the whole right side of my pillow is soaked and I'm choking on sobs, just like every other night since leaving home.

I also can't get the looks on Katniss and my mom's faces out of my head from after the reaping, when we'd exchanged our final goodbyes in the Justice Building. Katniss had evidently been hiding her emotions from me; she'd had on that blank face of hers that she does whenever she's upset. She thinks she's fooling everyone, and perhaps she is, but not me. I can read her like a book. My mom had been very distressed, tears rolling down her face the whole time as she choked out her final words to me and held me in a very tight hug. I hadn't stopped crying the whole time either, and it'd been incredibly embarrassing when I couldn't contain myself at the train station, when all cameras had been focusing on me. I've decided from that moment that I can't do that anymore. I don't want to look weak to the sponsors and the other tributes, but I certainly don't want to show my weakness to my family either. I'm hoping that even though I know I won't win the games, that I'll at least put forth my best effort and show my mom and Katniss that I'm stronger than they thought. I want to impress them before my last chance of showing them I'm underestimated is gone.

Tomorrow will be the last day before the games begin, which means I'll be doing my live interview with Caesar Flickerman. I get jittery every time I think about it. All of Panem will be watching! This will be my chance before the games to get some sponsors, or at least one. I don't let my hopes get too high. I'll also have a chance to impress my mom and Katniss, and I make a silent vow to myself that I will do my very best tomorrow.

I wake groggily to Effie's knocking on the door, and she calls to remind me of the interview. I get jittery again, and after getting ready and sitting at the table, I eat nothing but a nibble of a roll.

"The games begin tomorrow, girl, you'll want to be stuffing yourself today," Haymitch Abernathy tells me as he takes a swig of liquor.

I just shake my head, and say nothing.

"Hey," he says softly, reaching out and gently tilting my head up towards him. He looks me right in the eye. "I know that it's nerve racking, with the interview today and all, but you need to be practical. Let your logic guide you, not your emotions. It'll be a waste if you sink your own ship after getting a seven out of twelve yesterday. Now eat." He pushes a loaded plate in front of me. "Or you're not lasting a day in that arena."

I slowly munch up the stuff in front of me, and as I do so I flash back to my session yesterday when I'd showed the gamemakers what I've got. I'm certainly not planning on killing anyone in the arena, so during training I hadn't tried out any of the offensive weapons. I'd learned other things to preserve my own life though, like building shelter and painting camouflage. My strategy is to hide out the best I can and hope no one will find me. Then everyone can kill each other, and hopefully the last man standing aside from me in the end can die of starvation. Of course, this is only my plan I'm telling everyone so I can say at least I'm giving it a shot. I'm certainly not expecting this to follow through. So yesterday that's what I'd done. I'd simply built a shelter out of the materials available, and painted up the best camouflage I could manage in the time I'd had left. The gamemakers hadn't even paid me any attention though, but not that I care. I'm glad I got one of the lower scores, for I don't want to stand out so the other tributes remember me. I'm betting on the tributes forgetting I'm even in the arena in order for my plan to possibly work.

After breakfast I'm up and about being trained and polished for tonight's big interview. My personality is going to be sweet and innocent, a cliché impression that will show the tributes that I'm no threat to them, and it'll also be quite forgettable to them, I'm hoping.

After my hair's done up in my usual two French braids (which also keeps up the innocent look) I'm dressed in a plain pale blue dress that accentuate my eyes. It's thick material is smooth and flat across my chest and back at the top, followed by a thick white belt in the middle, then the light and thin pleated skirt flows down to my knees and swishes when I walk. To go with the dress I'm wearing matching blue flats with a bit of sparkle. I have minimal makeup; just a hint of brown eye shadow, girly pink blush that complements my pale skin, and sparkly pink lip gloss. I smile big when I look in the mirror and swish my skirt around. What will my mom and Katniss think when they see me?

"Don't forget your bracelet," my stylist, Cinna says after approaching me. He slides my mother's precious bracelet onto my wrist. It was from when she'd been young, before meeting my dad. It's made of real gold and has a pattern of sparkly blue jewels in it. She'd insisted during our last goodbye that I wear it to the games. "Do you like your outfit?"

"Yes, thank you so much," I say, then reach out and give him a hug.

It's then time to get on the circular platforms to rise up onto the stage for the interview. I take my place and the jitters return once again. Soon enough, I'm rising up onto the stage and I hear the music blaring, the crowd roaring, and my anxiety is full-blown now that I'm officially on live TV being viewed by all of Panem. I give a smile and a wave, then take my seat beside Peeta Mellark, my fellow tribute from District 12. He turns to me and gives me a warm smile, and I grin back. For a second I'm about to take his hand, a natural reaction I do when I feel a sudden liking for someone, but I quickly decide against it; it'd be very awkward if I did so. Physical contact is just something I do, and of course my family and friends understand this, but certainly not Peeta Mellark nor the rest of Panem. They'd probably have love rumours going around, and that'd feel very wrong.

Every tribute goes up one at a time to be interviewed, but I'm so nervous I hardly pay any attention. I just sit with correct posture, a pleasant smile, and look like I'm paying attention when I'm really thinking of what's happening back at home. As it gets closer and closer to my turn, I have to resist doing things like tapping my feet, playing with my fingers, and chewing my lip.

I then notice the girl from District 11 who's my age go up for her interview. Her name's Rue. During the group training I'd been by myself most of the time, but I just couldn't help but notice her. She seems very shy but very nice, and she's great at identifying plants just like Katniss. I immediately felt a bond with her, since we're the two smallest girls competing. Everyone is much bigger and stronger than us. When she'd been at the camouflage station at one point I'd joined her, and even struck a small conversation with her. I know it's probably not the best thing to do before going in an arena to fight to the death, but I'd really needed a friend, and she seems like somebody I can trust. All my impressions of her were correct; she was kind of quiet yet very open and friendly. I don't regret speaking to her.

A few minutes later when it feels like my heart's about to flutter away altogether, it's my turn, and I feel the blood drain from my face as I walk shakily to the hot seat. I'm hoping the cameras don't catch my shaky hands and legs. My heart's pounding loud in my ears, and I take deep breaths to slow it as I sit and strain to hear what Caesar Flickerman's saying.

"Hello, Primrose Everdeen!" he says in a very friendly way, flashing me a dazzling smile.

I straighten my back and rest my hands neatly in my lap. "Hello," I say, smiling. My voice shakes a little.

"Your dress is lovely! I like your bracelet too!"

"Thank you, it's my mom's," I say. I look down at it and touch a blue gem with my finger, thinking of my mom watching me right this second.

"Oh, so this is the token from home you're bringing into the games?" he asks.

"Yes." I look back up.

"It's beautiful. How did you feel about leaving District 12?"

My mind's buzzing. Make mom and Katniss proud. "I felt very sad to leave my mom and my sister, and all the rest of my friends." Act innocent and helpless. "But what can a girl like me do?" I add in a tiny voice. There's a few sympathetic moans from the audience.

"Oh, never underestimate yourself. You'll do great! You got a seven out of twelve, correct?"

"Yes."

"That's remarkable for a little girl like you. Do you think you will be able to get back to your home District?"

I hesitate. What am I supposed to say? I can't exactly say 'no', but I can't really say 'yes' either. "Um… I don't know. I guess we'll see."

"Yes, this shall make for a very interesting games. One last question before your time's up. If you can say one thing to your family right now, what would you say?"

Oh no. Oh no. Tears begin welling up in my eyes and I can feel a sob building up in my chest. I try to loosen it, but it doesn't work. I keep my eyes down. "I love you," I say in a shaky voice. "And I miss you guys more than anything." A few tears fall onto my lap, and everyone can hear the tears in my voice. The audience is again moaning with sympathy, and I think I even hear someone else crying out there.

Caesar puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. I look up to see he's set down his microphone, so no one can hear what he's about to say to me. He leans close to my ear, and whispers

"It'll be alright. You seem much more wise and passionate than most your age, and that can be a big advantage for you."

I step down and take my seat while Peeta Mellark steps up for his interview. The cameras lurk on my teary face for a minute, but then go to focus on Peeta, for his talking skills are much better than any of the other tributes. He's already got the crowd laughing and loving him.

"So what is your strategy going into this game?" Caesar asks.

"Well…" Peeta pauses. "I'm not really planning to win."

The crowd gives a big collective gasp.

"What?" Caesar asks. "Why not?"

"See, I've had a huge crush on this girl for as far back as I can remember."

"Who is that?" Caesar's leaning forward in his seat, and the crowd is dead silent as they anticipate Peeta's next words.

"Well, since I'm going to die soon I guess I'll just admit it… her name's Katniss Everdeen. She lives back in District 12. And… well Primrose over there, is her little sister. And there's no way I'm putting Katniss through losing a sibling."

The cameras are now trained on my shocked face. My mouth is gaping open and my eyes are wide, staring at Peeta. I don't know what to feel. Honored, because he's helping me win? Happy, because I have a better chance at getting back home? Or angry, because he's drawing attention to me, making me easier for the rest of the tributes to remember, making me a bigger threat to the rest of them? This could make my game, or break my game. And it all begins tomorrow.