Hi! Story number two! I am still working on Unforgiven and Forbidden, so don't throw a fit yet. I love Primrose and Cato, so I am writing this story. I don't plan on doing it through Catching Fire and Mockingjay, because frankly, I think the rebellion will ruin this love story. I don't know, maybe I will continue.

Background Information (Recommended)

In this story, Primrose tuned out rather than her mother. Also, this will NOT be the typical arena. This is the 75th Hunger Games, Prim wasn't reaped last year, and since there was no Katniss there was no rebellion. Peeta was reaped last year, but none of the other tributes from the books were.

Anyway, PRESENTING The Brute and the Mute. In the POV of Primrose.

I stare out the window of our shabby house. Katniss is somewhere in the woods, probably with her best friend Gale. Those two were going to get married someday, I just knew. My mother is in the back working on medicines for her latest patient, a boy who has the mine flu. A lot of people were getting sick from the coal dust recently because the Hunger Games are approaching. Since the Capitol uses twice as much energy during the Hunger Games season than any other time of the year, the demand for coal is high and many more people are sent into the mines so that District 12 will meet its quota. If this keeps up, they might have to send in some 17 year olds into the mines.

I walk to the television and try to turn it on. Surprisingly, we actually have power. 'I hope Katniss isn't in the woods, she might get caught outside if she is,' I thought. The only channel that District 12 gets is the Capitol channel, and on it is the recap of last year's Hunger Games, where the Victor was a Career from District 4, Cod.

"Ah, Claudius, this is my favorite part, where the District 12 boy Peeta is struggling against a tribute almost twice his size," says Caesar Flickerman, the most famous Hunger Games announcer. He pauses his speech while a huge boy from 2 smashes his head in. I quickly turn off the television, not wanting to relive that horror. Peeta was the one reason we survived the winter that Dad died. Katniss wasn't old enough for tesserae, and all of the animals were hibernating. Every day, he gave us half of a loaf of bread behind his mother's back. Without that bread, we would have died.

That was also the winter that I stopped talking. Having Dad die in a mine blast was the scariest thing ever. The morning before he died, I said something about us not having enough food because of him, and he got mad at me. For the longest time, I was too scared to speak. I felt like if I did and said something wrong, something else I loved would be taken away from me. Mother cried, but Katniss seemed to understand. While Mom begged me to speak to understand what I wanted, Katniss seemed to know. After a while, I never felt the need to speak. So many problems are caused by words, and not saying them seemed to be the best option.

I almost never left the house either. The only time I ever did was when I went to the Reapings. I had no more school after I turned 12, as once you are eligible for the Hunger Games, they don't seem to think that you need any more education. 'Oh yes, today is the Reaping,' I remembered. That's why they were playing the recaps. I look to the bed and see that Mom had put a dress out for me. I smile at her as I walk towards it.

"How do you like it, Prim?" she asks, her eyes pleading for an actual answer. I smile again and nod in approval. Mom sighs.

"Prim, you can't go through your life without saying anything. How are you going to say 'I do' at your wedding?" she asks rhetorically. 'And you suppose that any guy will actually fall in love with a girl that doesn't speak?' I think. As much as I believe that actions speak louder than words, others don't always agree. I slip on the dress and start brushing my hair. I decide to keep it down, even if Katniss would argue that it would get in my way. I just can't pull off a braid like she can.

"Where is your sister?" Mom questions, looking out of the window. I shrug. "If she's not back soon she will miss the reaping! We don't have the money to pay off that fine." Minutes pass as we both wait for Katniss's arrival. Even after twenty minutes, Katniss still hasn't appeared. I begin to worry. Kids have already started towards the square, where everyone will hold their breaths to see whose lives will be spared. After the day is over, everyone will celebrate with mini feasts and celebrations, except for two families that will stay in their house and mourn the future loss of their children. That's always how it goes in District 12. The last victor was 25 years ago, when Haymitch won against the odds of 47 tributes. It must have been a bloody Games, because as soon as he got back he resorted to drinking. Now it's a miracle if he even shows up to a Reaping.

A horn goes off in the distance, signaling that the horror will begin in 15 minutes. Mom turns to me and takes my wrists.

"It's going to be okay, Prim. She'll make it," she states, but she won't look me in the eyes. I give her a hug to calm her nerves and make sure that my hair is in place as I walk through the dust-covered streets of my District. Kids and their parents have already crowded the place, the children up front and the adults behind a rope. For the adults without kids, this is just a ritual. It might even be a pleasure to them, because it means two less mouths to feed. For the parents, it is a heart-wrenching experience. Even if their kids aren't reaped, all they can imagine is their own getting slaughtered before their eyes.

I walk up to the registration table where Peacekeepers are waiting for the last minute kids like me. Since most of the kids have gotten through, the line goes quickly and before I know it my finger is dripping blood. I quickly put my finger in my mouth, willing the pain to stop.

"Primrose Everdeen?" The Peacekeeper asks. I nod my head and look up. I notice that it is one that Katniss often sells her squirrels to, but I can't quite recall his name.

"Is your sister stuck out there?" he asks quietly, and I nod. He takes my arm again and puts my blood on Katniss's slot too.

"They never check for the accuracy," he states and winks. I give him a thankful smile as I go to wait with the other 13 year olds. Each girl in my row is holding hands, as if connecting themselves to one another will somehow protect them from getting their names pulled. Nonetheless, I give my hand to the girl next to me as she extends it without saying a word. We wait silently until our District escort, Effie Trinket, appears on stage. I flinch as she taps her hand on the microphone, but quickly regain my composure.

"Well, hello everyone!" she says, her voice as perky as ever. "Happy Hunger Games," she starts, but gets interrupted by a drunk Haymitch.

"And… And may the odds be forever NOT in your favor!" he laughs, falling to his chair in excitement.

"Haymitch!" Effie yells in horror. He just laughs.

"It's not like any of these twigs can actually win the games!" Effie ignores him as she announces that we all must watch a video from the Capitol, yet again. I swear, they have made us watch the same video every year. After a few minutes, it is over and Effie is muttering about how much she loves it. I roll my eyes.

"Now, as you all know, this is a very special year of the Games! It is a Quarter Quell, and because of that the years will have a twist!" Effie almost blows my ears out with her excitement. I feel the girl who is holding my hand squeeze tighter. No one ever knows the horror of the Quarter Quell. The first time, they made people elect their own tributes. The next one, where Haymitch won, there was 48 tributes instead of 24. This year, no one knows.

"I'll give you a hint; this year's change has to do with the winners!" she squeals. "To prove that after the Dark Days that both the Capitol and the Districts came out stronger together, and unified, two people will win this year's Games! Specifically, it must be a boy and a girl, not from the same District to symbolize the difference between the Capitol and the Districts. Isn't that exciting?" I hear murmurs throughout the crowd. Two winners? That has never been done before. I rack my brain to see why the Capitol would actually help our chances. The past Quarter Quells had been torture! I am still thinking when Effie bursts our bubbles.

"Also, to symbolize that the Capitol will always be stronger than the Districts, the Victor that was from the highest District will become the ruler of the Victor from the lower castes District! Of course, all of their actions must be President approved." Everyone, especially Mayor Undersee, gasps. Since we were the lowest District, if one of our tributes won, then we would have a dictator in our District. If it was one of the Careers, then we would have even more problems because they would most likely stop anyone from hunting, bringing our food economy down. That would mean that my family would go hungry. I quickly shake the feeling off, because the odds of one of our tributes winning is one and a million.

"Now, for the Reaping!" Effie says, going to the glass bowl filled to the brim with names of girls. She puts her hand in and shuffles the papers through her fingers a bit. She takes one in her hand and walks to the microphone. Her gloved hands unfold the tiny slip and she prepares to speak.

"Primrose Everdeen!" she said. The girl next to me releases my hand. I stand there in shock, but only for a second. I walk towards the stage, desperately trying to hold back my tears. Effie takes my arm and pulls me to the center of the stage. The then walks over to the next glass bowl and shifts her hand through it as well. She puts her hand towards the bottom and pulls out a random white paper.

"Griffin Thorne!" she exclaims. A boy from the 15 year old section approaches the stage. I recognize him from the Seam, a boy whose parents both work in the mines. I stare at him for a moment, and he meets my gaze. I pull my gaze away in shyness.

"Now, now you two, shake hands!" I hold out my hand and he takes it in his to shake. After that we are both taken inside the Justice Building where we will say our final goodbyes. I am taken to a room filled with rich, velvet carpeting. As luxurious as it is, it makes me want to be sick. For 75 years now, kids have been pulled into this room just like I have to be slaughtered physically and emotionally.

I sit in that room for only a few minutes before my mother bursts into the door, alone. Katniss is nowhere in sight. Mom notices my distressed look and shakes her head.

"Prim, don't worry about her. She will be fine. Right now I am worried about you. What you need to do is ally with a boy from another lower district and win. Then, someone with a heart will take over and things might be better."

I really want to believe her. I know deep down that no matter who wins, President Snow will control them and make living here total Hell. That must be why they decided to plan the Quell this way, so they can take control of the lower districts that aren't as loyal. My mom says a few more words to me, but I am too distressed to hear them. Before I know it, she is being led out by Peacekeepers. I have no other visitors, so I am led to the train, which will be the beginning to my death.

I hope you like it! I will most likely take turns between my stories as to which one I update, so don't be surprised if this one isn't updated for a while.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own The Hunger Games. All rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do not own any of the characters, except for my OC Griffin Thorne. This fanfiction is just a celebration as to how awesome her books were. This disclaimer will go for all of my chapters.

Other note: All tributes will be the same except for Griffin. I despise Peeta, I don't really know why.

-Katie