The Hunger Games: Prim [REWRITING]

Chapter 3: Learning to Cherish Life

Chapter 3

: Learning to Cherish Life

It's all over. I'm going to die. Maybe I'll meet Dad. Yes, that sounds pleasant. Real pleasant.

There's little any tribute could do when the Peacekeepers take you into the Justice Building. I remember in past years, people tried to make a run for it, but no one's ever been successful. I don't dare risk it. Peeta and I meekly follow into the building, like lambs to the slaughter.

The two of us are separated into different rooms, and I relish the few moments of peace before I'll have to greet people and say my farewells. The room is fancy, with thick carpet, fluffy chairs, and a sofa. It's iconic, really, how the Capitol dresses up their tributes before sending them to their deaths. Not only this, but by selling all the items in this room, this cursed room used once a year, you could feed the whole, bountiful population of our district. This world's messed up. It's messed up to the core, and there's nothing I can do about it.

Sitting down on the sofa, I'm unable to enjoy the rich velvet. I run my fingers across the soft surface but the thoughts that fill my head aren't as pleasant.

"Stay calm Prim, don't cry. You have to stay strong," I tell myself firmly. "Stay strong like Katniss."

. . .

Katniss and Mom come visit first. They brought along Buttercup, and I hold him in my arms, tight. Tears fill my eyes, and this time I don't try to stop them. I just let them flood out and pour onto Buttercup, and onto the rich, velvet couch. Katniss sits next to me and pulls me into a hug, then Mother, kneeling on the floor, wraps her arms around the three of us. And just like that, we hold each other for what will be the last time.

"Maybe I can win," I whisper softly, but only because it feels polite. I know I'll be dead soon. There's no question about it, and Katniss and Mom struggle to find a response. Buttercup purrs affectionally, and licks my face.

"Maybe you can," Katniss says weakly, eying Mom, then looking back at me. Her eyes are grey. Just like Dad's. "You may be small, and you may be weak, but you're smart, and you're quite a healer. Don't let anything discourage you." But we all know, we all know but don't dare say, that this is the final goodbye. There's no coming back.

"I know Katniss, I know." My voice is barely above a whisper.

Mom brings up her hand to cup my face, bring it lower to match her eyes to mine. "Primrose. You are loved, so, so much. Never forget that."

Tears flood from her eyes and I hold her tight for dear life. It hurts so much to think about our home, once bustling with love and joy of two parents and two children, now stripped down to a parent and child, a goat, and a cat. It's all too painful to think about.

"Prim, I believe in you. My hope is pinned on you. Watch the reapings, make alliances. Don't... don't let the Games be your last, painful memory. Prim, the Capitol's a nice place. Enjoy it for me, for Mom. For Dad. And with your beauty, your pure heart, you're bound to attract sponsors. Cherish each gift you get. Don't forget how much we love you.

"When the gong sounds, run for shelter Prim, run far, far away. You remember that movie, don't you Prim? We'd watch it with Dad on the small projector at home, you remember that, don't you?" I nod. I do remember. Run, Forrest, run.

"It'll be just like hide and seek. Don't let the others get to you, physically, mentally... Feed yourself, sustain yourself. Don't go and get yourself killed Prim. Hold on to the very end. Don't give up a good fight, do you hear me?" Her voice is stern and I nod again. I remember the smiles, the laughs we shared over long games of hide and seek around the neighborhood. All my favorite places to hide. The company Buttercup provided me during long, hot afternoons we'd spend hiding in the Seam.