The Hunger Games Are Not In Prim's Favor

The Day Before The Games

     I had a knot in my stomach the whole day. You would too knowing that tomorrow you were going to go fight to death in an arena. Or in my case, knowing you were going to die tomorrow. 

    I trained awfully hard that day. I was so quiet and nervous , while people from district two and three were dancing around being loud.

Peeta would roll his eyes at them.  He whispered to me, "The careers aren't scared, they have been training for the games since they could first walk."

  "Well," I whispered back. "I am staying away from them." Peeta gave me a weak smile.  I could pratically tell what he was thinking.

He felt bad that a little twelve year old had to go through this.

I know that he knows I am going to die the first day. I'm not mad at him for thinking that.

I know it too. I was wondering why Peeta is being so nice to me, when he may have to kill me later. It's like getting a pig that you have to butcher later and naming it. It makes it harder.

Haymitch gave our last advice that night. He said, "Stay alive"  Peeta grunted, " Um, we sort of all ready know that."

Haymitch looked serious, "But yet some give up and just let the careers kill them. Don't be those kind of kids." 

I nodded at Haymitch, I felt like he was talking to me. I was already saying how i was going to die, when I should be more confident. It is just so hard. The other kids are so good.

Effie walked in the room, "off to bed you two."  "Tomorrow you have a big, big day."  She didn't even try to say it happily.

  I nodded, and went into my room. As soon as I was alone, I started to cry. I got on my nightgown and slipped into bed but the tears kept coming.

  Can you imagine it? Just put yourself in my place. Tomorrow I go and fight kids up to the age of 18. Only one of us is to survive. Do you think you could sleep knowing that?

Peeta knocks on my door. I open it not caring I look like a puffer fish.

"I know we need sleep, but that's not possible. You want to watch a movie?" He asks.  I nodded,and we went and sat on the couch. We watched a funny little cartoon. I couldn't get myself to laugh, but the movie helped me a bit.

Peeta got us some popcorn, and made it the way I like it. Lots of salt and loads of butter.

He was so nice to think of me like this. He was like the brother I never had.

  He treated me like I was seven instead of twelve, but I liked that. He was like my babysitter.

Always trying to keep you happy and occupied.

And I loved it. Too bad tomorrow one of us will most likely be dead. I shake the thought out of my head.  And then I fall alseep to the cartoons, the last cartoon I'll probably ever see.