Panem's Secret - The Hunger Games Fan Fiction

Chapter 2: The Reaping

I watched my sister come to the reaping by herself every year. I never realized how scary it was. She must have been so frightened. I so desperately don't want to be picked. I'm only 12. If i'm going to be picked, then at least let me be picked when i'm older; more experienced.

Fear overwhelms me as Katniss leads me to my line. I start to shake and cry.

Katniss stops and kneels down in front of me, taking my face in her hands, "Prim, listen to me, you're going to be okay. You're going to be okay. You need to line up and they will take some blood from your finger."

"Will it hurt?" I say, tears streaming from my face.

"Only a little. You need to go now Prim, I will see you after the reaping." She hugs me and grabs my hand again. I slowly walk into my line and wait for my turn.

When I get to the front of the queue, I hesitantly hold out my finger to the lady in a white shirt and trousers. She carelessly sticks the needle into my finger and takes a blood sample. She presses it onto a sheet and tells me to move on; not even looking at me.

My eyes dart around to try and find Katniss, but I can't see her. I start to panic again but remember her words, 'It's your first year Prim, they're not going to pick you.' I calm down and find a spot in the group of 12 year olds. Some of the people I see I know from school. I hope it's none of them. In fact, I don't want it to be any of us. I don't want to sound selfish but, it should be the older people that go into The Games because they can take it better, I suppose.

When everyone is herded into their pen, we go silent. The doors of The Hall Of Justice open and an odd looking woman trots out onto the stage. Effie Trinket. She is the same escort District 12 has every year, but she never ceases to amaze. She wears a long, dark, pink dress with frills on the waist line, a fluffy pink wig with a pink flower in it and black stilettos. The theme must be pink. I look down and laugh a bit. It's more a nervous laugh than an actual laugh.

She walks up to the microphone and taps it loudly, making everyone jump, "Welcome, welcome!" Her voice is so chirpy that it sounds as if this is an event to celebrate with joy, like we are going to win an amazing prize instead of being sent to our deaths, "The time has come to select one courageous young man and woman, for the honour of representing District 12 in the 74th annual Hunger Games. Now, ladies first..."

Fear pulses through me as she strides towards the girls bowl. She fumbles around the bowl and plucks out a slip. I feel my heart in my throat. She walks back to the microphone and opens the slip.

She pauses.

I wait.

"Primrose Everdeen."