No. No this cannot be happening! This is not possible! There is no way Katniss would have let Primrose sign up for tesserae, for this exact reason. This is her first year, her name would have been one slip among thousands! Prim getting picked is far worse than Gale. Far worse than Katniss even, because there are only two possible outcomes right now. It will destroy Katniss, first her father, and now Prim who she has fought to keep safe her whole life. There is no way someone as sweet, gentle and delicate as Primrose will stand any chance in such a blood thirsty horror. The crowd voices their opinions too, someone so young as just twelve should not be faced with such an abrupt or gruesome ending, Primrose especially. Prim, the one who drags Katniss to the bakery window to admire my cakes while I watch hopefully off to the side somewhere. There is no way this can happen. I look to Katniss urgently to see if my worst nightmare is about to come true. She looks like she's about to faint, totally and utterly stunned as the Seam boy standing next to her barely holds her upright as she comes to her senses. She stares completely shocked towards Prim as she nervously heads towards the stairs of the stage, her face filled with absolute terror, eyes wide in disbelief. Something clicks in Katniss's head and she transforms, a look of determination comes over her face, so much stronger than I have ever seen before. Oh no, I know what she is about to do. I wish I could run to her and comfort her, try to convince her of anything. But it would be no use, Prim is her whole life, she is the reason she breaks the law and risks her life hunting. Telling her not to volunteer would be pointless, and extremely selfish, especially coming from someone who she probably doesn't even know exists. There will be no convincing her of anything else. Then it happens, the whole spectacle unfolds right before my eyes.
"Prim!" She cries desperately. "Prim!" She repeats, her voice a bit clearer this time.
Then as if they all expected it, the crowd moves apart, kids step back immediately as Katniss quickly stumbles past them up the aisle to where Primrose is shakily beginning up the steps. Katniss pulls her back and stands protectively infront of her, holding her behind her with her hands.
"I volunteer!" She gasps, then she collects herself. "I volunteer as tribute." She says in strangled voice.

What did this poor family ever do to deserve such a terrible life? From what I heard, their father was one of the nicest men in the district, Prim is so sweet, the mother always helps the sick who cannot afford proper care, and Katniss, who's whole life revolves around taking care of her frail family seems to bare the weight of all their bad luck. So why this?

After a moments confusion, since in district twelve you pretty much have to be insane to volunteer, Effie Trinket steps up to the microphone and tries to lighten the dark mood that has descended over the gathering in the square.
"Lovely!" She squeaks before clearing her throat. "But I believe there's a small matter of introducing...."
I stop listening right there, absolutely furious. Why does she care about protocol right now when either way, one of the Everdeen sisters is as good as dead! Luckily the mayor agrees with me.
"What does it matter?" He says gruffly, putting Effie in her place.
He looks quite upset, considering he has seen the reaping many years now, perhaps seeing Katniss sacrifice herself has touched him in some special way, I wouldn't be surprised. His next few words are muffled by Prim's desperate screams as she realises what Katniss has just done. She clings to Katniss for dear life.
"No Katniss! No! You can't go!" She cries.
This really upsets me, the love these sisters have for each other is so strong. Why can't me and my brothers be like this?
"Prim let go." Katniss says coldly, her face is emotionless but I can tell that all she wants to do is break down in tears.
She truly is so brave, if that was me I wouldn't be worried about what the camera's or Panem's opinions are. I would have already accepted my death by the time that I got to the bottom of the stairs so who cares what anyone else thinks of me?
"Let go!" She says through gritted teeth, almost growling.

Suddenly Gale is there, looking distressed but trying to keep his composure, probably for Katniss's sake more than anything else, as he prizes Primrose's skinny arms from around Katniss's waist and he lifts her over his shoulder while she thrashes in his grasp. He mumbles something to Katniss in a strained voice which I don't quite catch, nothing can be heard over Prim's hysterics, before reluctantly carrying her off to their mother who looks like she can't quite believe what has just happened yet. Katniss turns her attention away from Prim and Gale and starts to climb the steps slowly.
"Well, bravo!" Claps Effie Trinket. "That's the spirit of the games!" Trust her to try turn this into something noble. "What's your name?"
Katniss takes a deep breath and gathers herself again before dully saying "Katniss Everdeen."
After Effie finally puts two and two together and realises that Katniss and Primrose are sisters, she asks for applause. No one does. This is not something to applaud. Katniss does not want praise or recognition for this, she was simply looking out for and protecting her sister who she loves dearly. Whether they know Katniss or if they don't have a care in the world, no one is naive enough to clap. We all stand in complete silence, refusing to do as the Capitol wants, that is what we have done our whole lives and what good has it done us? None. Suddenly I see a few older men off to the side of the square under some shaded veranda's do the one thing we could do to honour Katniss best right now. Perhaps they are from the Seam or recognise her from the Hob, they could even be old friends of her father's. But when they press the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and then hold them out clearly to Katniss, I don't hesitate to join in. I've heard of this symbol before. It is an old District Twelve ritual used rarely and only on special occasions. It is our own special way to say thank you and show admiration towards a person who is loved, to show them that they will be missed.

How can this be happening? The girl I have loved for so long is about to be sent off to slaughter and I've never even had a chance to talk to her. I should have just done it, I'm so stupid, I'm nothing like my father says I am. It's all lies, I'm a terrible, coward of a person. Now all I will be left with is the memory of a beautifully mysterious girl who never even knew me, and to be honest I hardly know the first thing about her either. I know there is so much more behind that hard facade of hers, I've seen it just a few times, when she smiles, when she picked the dandelion. When she's with Prim, and Gale. I wish I could have been one of the people on that list, but I'm not, and now I won't ever be.

Just as Katniss looks like she may finally crumble into tears Haymitch decides out of the blue that it is his cue to speak. He staggers to the front of the stairs, nearly tripping and slings an arm around her shoulder.
To do what he thinks is congratulating Katniss he slurs loudly. "Look at her. Look at this one!" He seems to be getting really excited now and I can see Katniss struggling to stand strong with him leaning all over her. "I like her!" He continues proudly.
Your not the only one Haymitch, I think protectively as I see the way that she squirms uncomfortably trying to get out of his grip. He is probably just so fowl smelling and looking that she can't stand it having him all over her. I can hardly stand watching it from back here. God, I have such negative opinions on everyone today. Probably to do with the hot, bitter hatred coursing through my veins over how cruel, unfair and messed up this whole situation is. The Hunger Games, who was ever so evil as to think of a punishment this cruel? Any other time Haymitch's rampage would be hilariously entertaining, but it's far from it right now.
He continues on his drunken spiel. "Lots of...." in his state he struggles to think of the right word. "Spunk!" He finally says, satisfied with his choice. Confidently he untangles himself from Katniss and lurches forward, "More than you!" He shouts as he moves forward, pointing directly down the barrel of the camera. "More than you!" He repeats.
I don't know if he is just a happy drunk or if he actually has the guts to taunt the Capitol. I would like to hope that it's the latter, they deserve it. All of a sudden he walks straight off the stage as if he didn't even realise that it ended and falls to the ground, knocking himself unconscious. While everyone else looks shocked down at Haymitch's limp figure, I continue to watch Katniss miserably. I see her take one second to let out her emotions and compose herself again before the cameras are back on her. She stares into the distance, probably wanting to be anywhere but here right now.

Haymitch is carried away on a stretcher and Effie tries to get things back on track.
"It's time to choose our boy tribute!" She practically squeals after a while.
I really really hope it's not Gale now. That would be the worst thing ever for Katniss right now. He will be her families last chance of survival, of protection. I think she would just give up right there, right now on the stage if he got reaped, and besides, it would be so cruel to put those two in a fight to the death together. As she tries to maintain her hair disaster Effie crosses to the large glass bowl containing the boys names, scoops up the first paper slip she encounters, unlike the girls who she seemed to mingle around in forever, and totters back to the microphone. It's as if she is trying to move everything along now.
She opens the folded paper and reads before I even have time to register, "Peeta Mellark."

Wait, what? I can't have heard that right. I see everyone around me stare at me, not knowing how to react, and instantly my heart drops. I feel the blood drain from my face, I had heard right. No, Effie must be wrong. How is this possible? First Prim who's name was only entered once and now mine which was only in a meagre five times! I start towards the stage, slowly and unsurely. Is this some kind of trick? I actually cannot believe what has just happened. All the negative ways I have been thinking of myself this morning flood my mind. I was right, by the time I have reached the bottom of the stairs the word corpse is already plastered into my thoughts, I see it written before my eyes, I hear it ringing in a spooky whisper in my ears. I know that I am never going back to the bakery again. As everyone gapes at me I suddenly don't feel like a tall, strong, broad shouldered sixteen year old, I feel like any other weakling from District Twelve who hardly makes it off their pedestal. How will I die? Will it be quick? Will it be painless? I hope so. But I know it won't be, this is The Hunger Games. How did this happen? I was not meant to be picked. I was meant to grow up, take over the family bakery and have a family of my own, in my dreams it would be with Katniss. But now none of that will happen, and it won't be happening with the girl I love either especially. I will be dead within a month, and most likely so will she. Oh no, I forgot about Katniss in my own moment of disbelief. Just to top things off, I'm about to go in there with the girl I'm madly in love with too. I can feel the alarm register on my face as I mount the stairs as steadily as I can. Something has stirred inside me in the past few seconds as I remembered about Katniss and now I understand why she is trying to remain so calm and emotionless. Just keep it in until you are behind closed doors I tell myself, you have to make some kind of impression. If I could see myself right now I know exactly what I would look like, bright blue eyes wide in shock. I feel my curly hair plastered to my forehead with a mixture of nervous and overheating sweat. The temperature seems to have increased dramatically in the last minute. The stage seems too high and as if it isn't solid, I'm walking on waves as I take my place on the right of Effie. I can't look at Katniss, I don't know why. It's not like the nerves I get in the corridor at school from seeing her, it's something far more intense, guilt? But why?

When Effie asks for volunteers no one does, as I expected. Like I said before, I was not expected to get picked. Rye and I never talked of this possibility so I'm not surprised, and besides, we aren't close like Katniss and Primrose in anyway. We may have gotten better but we will never reach the strength of the bond that they have. I look down at him understandingly where he stands near the front row. He looks so torn, almost broken hearted. I shake my head at him to show that it's ok, keeping as stern a face as I can to keep myself from collapsing into sorrow. Then I cast my gaze over the crowd to the bakery where I can see my mother still standing rigid and cold, although is it just me or is there a hint of worry in her eyes? Aster looks utterly helpless, like he's about to break down from the shock of it all and my father who I can see a reflection of my own feelings on his face, he is trying to be strong for me.

Mayor Undersee steps forward to read the Treaty of Treason but I don't listen, I just think. Why us? Seriously, of all the years I could have been picked it had to be the same as Katniss! This will be agonising. The odds of us ending up having to kill each other are very slim, or even us seeing each other in the arena really. But seeing or hearing of her death, spending the painstaking few weeks leading up to the games so close, yet still so far from her. Knowing Katniss, she will keep as much distance between not just me but everyone else around her while she prepares. No doubt she will be fighting her way out of the arena, for Prim. Not wanting to make friends, keeping the job as easy as she can for herself, and I can't blame her for that, I get that she loves her sister. She doesn't know me so why should I expect any kind of sympathy from her, especially when she is so stand offish anyway.  But that's what I admire so much about her, her willingness, her independence, her strength to keep going and pull through no matter how grim the situation, like all those years ago in the rain outside the bakery. Another thing springs to my mind. Why can't I bring myself to look at her? Why should I feel guilty? It's not my fault that she got picked, that was unstoppable. There is no way I am going to kill her, so why do I feel too ashamed to look at her? Then I realise, it is far from guilt what I am feeling, it is desperation and protectiveness, and I'm embarrassed about it because we hardly know each other at all.

When the mayor finishes his speech and motions for Katniss and I to shake hands I finally have the courage. I grip her hand strongly in mine and look her right in the eyes, those beautiful, deep, dark, grey Seam eyes of hers that hold so much wonder and mystery and secrets and squeeze her hand reassuringly, trying to tell her that it will be okay. This is the first time we have ever touched, and even though it isn't exactly the best event that is causing us to do so, I still feel electricity buzz through me from the point where her fingers clasp mine and it solidifies what I am thinking at this very moment. I can't believe that just a few moments ago I was thinking how in less then a month we will both be dead, selfishly thinking of my own expectations. Because now, I mean it when I say that everything is going to be okay for her, maybe not great, but life will go on as liveable, because I intend to protect Katniss Everdeen, save her life. I will keep fighting for her freedom until my last breath. So she can return to her family where she truly is happy. But to do so, I am going to have to be strong, be appealing, I am going to have to make myself survive as long as I can too, that is why I am trying to keep up this calm front.