Prim, Katniss and my mother are all in the kitchen by the time I arrive back home. Katniss is in a blue dress that used to belong to my mother, and Prim's in the white blouse and skirt that both her sisters before her have worn for their first reaping. The shirt's a little too big for her, and sticks out at the back, but I find it amusing.

"Oh, you look beautiful!" I exclaim, kneeling down and stroking her hair, which is in two braids. "But you need to tuck in that tail, little duck," I joke, tucking in the back of the blouse.

Prim giggles slightly and I smile to her, but I stop almost immediately when my mother tells me. "I've laid something out for you, too."

I sigh. I knew it was only a matter of time, but hearing her say it just confirms it to me. The reaping is coming, and my littlest sister's name lies on one of the slips.

I quickly conceal my look of worry and concern for Prim's sake, however, and nod. "Okay."

I hate reaping day, I decide, as I reach the tiny bathroom and see the brush, the soap and the small sink before me.

I scrub religiously, even though it hurts. All the dirt underneath my nails, all the sweat from the woods, all the grime from my hair, it has to go. For some reason, we dress up for the reaping.

We dress up to see two kids go to their deaths.

I scrub until it hurts, because I want to distract myself. From the reaping, from Prim's one slip, Katniss' ten, Gale's forty two. Not mine. I care about them more than I'll ever care about myself.

By the time I'm draining the cold water and drying my hair in a cloth, I'm clean, rubbed raw, and losing the will to live.

Seeing an old green dress of my mother's lying out on her bed doesn't help.

Grudgingly, I change into it, the soft fabric hugging my body. To be honest, this dress would probably make a fortune in the Hob, but my mother is very particular about all her old possessions from the merchant's side of town, and wouldn't let me trade them away.

Before I know it, I'm standing in front of the mirror, my mother behind me, braiding my hair into a crown on my head. I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I can feel Katniss and Prim's eyes on me, but I can't look at them because my hair's being painfully pulled out my skull.

As my mother finishes, almost all of my hair braided back with only two strands framing my face, she leans closer to me, whispering. "Now you look beautiful, too."

"Wish I looked like you," Prim voiced. "Both of you," she adds, eying Katniss.

"Oh, no," Katniss says, leaning down and stroking one of Prim's braids. "We wish we looked like you, little duck."

Her voice is cut short, however, from the blaring sound of the alarm that tells everyone to get to the town square. I look at the small clock on the mantle. It's quarter to two.

Prim is shaking, her small blue eyes suddenly plagued with fear. I quickly step towards her, grabbing her hand and squeezing it.

"Hey," I tell her, smiling slightly. "You wanna see what I got you today?"

I'd put it in the pocket of my dress as I'd changed into it, so it wasn't hard to reach into it and pull out the pin Sae had given me at the Hob.

"It's a mockingjay pin," I tell my little sister, pressing it into her open palm. "To protect you. And as long as you have it, nothing bad will happen to you. Okay?" I look into her eyes. "Promise?"

She nods, her eyes glassy as the second alarm blares. I pull her into me, wrapping one arm around her and smiling to Katniss, gesturing her over.

I try not to look at my mother as I hug my two sisters, one arm around each of them. I've been mothering Katniss and Prim for a while now, and I know she often feels put out because of that.

Well, she should've done her job when our father died, I often think savagely, not daring to voice my thoughts out loud. In fact, I've only ever said this once, and I was out in the woods with Gale.

"Come on," my mother's voice is soft as she speaks. "We need to go."

I bite my lip and squeeze Prim's hand tightly as we walk through the Seam, feet crunching on the gravel. I look around slowly, trying to find Gale in the flowing river of people walking to the town square, but I can't. He'll be here, though. This is his last reaping, just like it's mine.

As we reach the square, I hear Prim emit a small, scared gasp. I frown, then I look in the direction of her eyeline. She's looking at the entrance tables, where you get your finger pricked and printed as a form of registration.

Prim has stopped completely by now, people pushing past her to get to the tables as she hyperventilates and tears begin to slip down her face.

"Shh, shhh," I tell her, kneeling down to face her. "Prim, it's okay, it's okay. Shh. Okay, it's time to sign in now, so they're gonna prick your finger, it's just a little bit of blood."

"You didn't say-" Prim begins, still panicked.

"I know," I interrupt her. "It doesn't hurt much, okay? Just a little pinch."

This doesn't really calm her so I reach up to cup her small face, wiping her tears away. "Okay? Go and stand with your age group, and I'll find you after."

Prim nods, and I stand up, slowly guiding her over to the tables. I join the queue for my age group and, since we're next to the eighteen year old boys, see Gale in his queue. He smirks a little at me, and I try to return it, most likely failing miserably.

"Next," the harsh voice of the woman says, and I step forward. This is the seventh time I've done this, so I'm prepared as I hold my finger out.

The needle is a sharp pain but I force myself not to react to it as my finger is printed on a square in the books the registrators have. The fingerprint is bloody and clear, and as it is scanned 'Everdeen, Sage' shows up on the scanner.

Before I can do anything else I'm getting led round the side of the table and to the area at the back of the group where the eighteen year olds stand, girls on one side, boys on the other.

As I get to my place, my body still but my heart hammering, I turn sideways to see Gale.

He mouths at me. "It's okay."

I nod, but I don't really believe him.

The Seam kids are always the last to get registered, because they have the furthest to walk. So by the time I get to my spot, mostly everyone's already in theirs.

This is why I hardly have any time to think before the mayor, his wife and his assistant are stepping out onto the big, empty stage before us, taking their seats at the back of it. Apart from them, all that is up there is a single microphone, and two bowls on either side of it.

Both the bowls are filled with slips of paper, and my gaze hones in on the one on my right. In it, there are twenty two slips with Sage Everdeen written on them.

"Welcome! Welcome, welcome!"

I struggle to contain my eye roll as I watch Effie Trinket, District Twelve's escort, step up on the stage and arrive at the microphone. She's dressed in an all pink, frilly outfit that probably costs more than my food for the past five years, her face is powered and lips puckered, and her hair is a white curly wig with pink edges. She looks ridiculous.

But, in Capitol terms, this is tame.

"Happy Hunger Games!" Effie shouts, smile wide. "And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

I press my lips together.

"Now, before we begin, we have a very special film, all the way from the Capitol!" Effie grins round at us all, but I can't help but roll my eyes at this. It's the same lines every year, and the same film.

And sure enough, as the music starts blaring and the usual slideshow of pictures from the Dark Days plays on the screens on either side of the stage.

"War. Terrible war," the narration plays out. "Widows, orphans, a motherless child. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turning on brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace, hard fought, sorely won. A people rose up from the ashes, and a new era was born.

"But freedom has a cost. And the traitors were defeated. We swore as a nation we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed that each year the various districts of Panem would offer up, in tribute, one young man and woman to fight to the death in a pageant of honour, courage and sacrifice."

I scoff.

"The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future."

"I just love that!" Effie Trinket says excitedly into the microphone as the ending music of the film plays out and the screens return to black again.

"Now, the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman for the honour of representing District Twelve in the seventy fourth annual Hunger Games!" Effie smiles. "As usual, ladies first."

This is it. This is the moment that decides the rest of my life.

Yet, I'm not even giving myself a second thought. I'm not even caring if Sage Everdeen gets called, but I will care if Katniss Everdeen is. Or Primrose.

Effie makes her way over to the girls' bowl. The bowl with my name inside it, with Katniss', with Primrose's. As she reaches her gloved hand inside, all I can think about are my sisters.

She swirls it around a bit, choosing a slip at the bottom before lifting it out ceremoniously, and walking slowly back towards the microphone.

My heart is beating faster than I think it ever has as she opens it up, reading the name on it before broadcasting the name for all to hear.

And giving me a moment I'll remember for the rest of my life.

"Primrose Everdeen!"

☦︎☦︎☦︎

I've seen this happen before.

Quite a lot of times, actually. And Katniss, too.

But normally, this is as far as it gets. Normally by now, I've awoken screaming, panting, in a cold sweat, my body shivering as I look over in the darkness and see that Katniss is still there. Prim is still there.

So why am I not waking up? The thought is ludicrous, ridiculous, really, but it's all I can fathom in the moment. Why is this nightmare not ending?

The crowd has turned by now, to see who was picked. I would, too, but I'm frozen, my whole body numb, as I pray that I wake up. It's only when Katniss turns to me, making direct eye contact, her eyes full of panic and fear, that I realise that I'm not dreaming.

It's real.

This is real.

Prim has just been reaped.

It can't be true, even though I've established I'm not dreaming, I am still in denial. Prim's name was one amongst thousands. Thousands! There's- there's no way-

"Where are you, dear?" Effie's voice echoes in my head, seeming miles away. "Well, come on up!"

As the crowd parts to let Prim walk up to the stage, I seem to snap back to life. Now I can see my sister. I can see her blonde braids, and white blouse, with the duck tail sticking out the back. I can also see her rigid body, and her glassy eyes, and her small mouth, half open in shock.

My eyes follow her hands as she tucks the back of her blouse in, walking slowly through the crowd of twelve year old girls and to the stage.

And then I'm moving, and before I can even fathom what I'm doing, I'm moving out into the wide gap between the girls and boys. Katniss is doing the same, I see, as I look to the side, as as we meet in the middle, we both shout the same thing.

"Prim! Prim!"

Katniss and I scramble towards our sister, who turns, but we don't make it far, because two peacekeepers step together, blocking out way.

"No! No!" We yell, pushing against them.

And then I shout it, because if I don't, Katniss will.

And I can't lose her, either.

"I VOLUNTEER! I VOLUNTEER!"

My voice is shrill and high and it hurts to shout, but I'm so desperate, tears now in my eyes, as I shove past the peacekeepers, facing Effie and the mayor and talking to everyone.

"I volunteer as tribute."

This is another thing that's allowed. As long as you're within age range and the right sex, you can volunteer. In the richer districts such as One, Two and Four, people volunteer every year, as winning the games is deemed an honour in their districts. In Twelve, volunteers are rare, as the word 'tribute' might as well be synonymous with the word 'death'.

Even Effie Trinket seems surprised, as she gasps before saying into the microphone. "I believe we have a volunteer!"

I'm not paying attention, however, as I feel Katniss grab my arm.

"Sage, no!" My sister warns me. "Please d-"

"I love you," I interrupt Katniss, throwing her hand off me. "And I'm not letting either of you die in there."

And then I'm running.

I reach Prim, who's now at the bottom of the stage stairs, and envelope her in a hug. She's crying now, and I force myself to restrain my tears as I kneel down in front of her.

"Prim, you need to get out of here, you need to get out of here," I ramble, my lips moving faster than I can think. "Go find mum, go find-"

"No! No!" Prim cries.

"Prim, go to Katniss and mum right now-"

"NO! No! No! I don't want-"

And then Gale is there, next to me, his arms pulling Prim away as she howls and screams. We don't speak, hardly even make eye contact, but for a split second I look at him, and his eyes are reading I'm sorry.

"A dramatic turn of events here in District Twelve," Effie says, as two peacekeepers grab my arms, marching me towards the stage. "Yes, well, District Twelve's very first volunteer! Bring her up."

She says that like they have a choice.

All hands come off me as we reach the steps, which I slowly start to ascend. I've noticed I'm shaking by now, my whole body vibrating with how much fear it contains.

"Come on, dear," Effie says, taking hold of my shoulder as I get to the top and leading me over to the microphone, where I face the district.

I'm too dazed that I don't even notice how many people stare back at me.

"What's your name?" Effie asks, bringing the microphone towards me.

"Sage Everdeen," gets said, but I'm almost one hundred percent sure it's not me saying it.

But it must be me, because Effie whoops. "Well, I bet my buttons that was your sister, wasn't it?"

"Yes," and again, I feel miles away.

"Let's have a big hand for our very first volunteer, Sage Everdeen!"

No one claps.

And I'm glad they don't.

Then I look out into the crowd and suddenly my vision focuses.

They're doing the respect gesture that we do every year, when you press your three fingers to your lips and hold them aloft. It's supposed to be a sign that we stand with the chosen tributes, I just never thought it would be done for me.

"And now, for the boys!"

Not Gale. Not Gale, not Gale, not Gale, not Gale-

Effie clips her way over to the other bowl, picking the male slip much quicker than the female one.

Forty two slips have his name on them-

And Effie could've selected one of those as she takes it, walking back to the microphone and opening it up.

"Jasper Mellark!"

Oh shit.

That was probably about the only name that could've made my situation worse.

Jasper gets marched out of his place amongst the eighteen year old boys, four peacekeepers circling him. He's taller than me, despite me being two months older, and his face is filled with fear and confusion.

If it was anyone else, I'd feel sorry.

Jasper Mellark is the baker's son. Or, one of the baker's sons. He has a younger brother and an older brother, but it's him I know.

It's him I'll never forget.

☦︎☦︎☦︎

I can still remember that rainy Saturday at thirteen years old when I ran into the bakery, looking for a trade. I was desperate. Too desperate. This was before I'd met Gale, and tesserae rations were running low because of shortages.

It had been Jasper on duty. He was my age, and working in his parents' shop to earn some money.

And I'd tried to trade with him. I'd caught a squirrel that day, but I'd shot it through the haunches, where the best meat was. It was basically spoiled.

"I am not taking that," Jasper had told me, scoffing at the thought. "Go play on someone else's sympathies, Sage. Or give me something else."

I'd known him from school, and seen him around a bit. I would later find out he and Gale were mortal enemies, but at that moment, he was an unknown.

"I don't have anything else!" I'd pleaded, being young at the time, not understanding.

"Oh, really?" I still remember the sick way he'd smirked at me.

"Listen, just take the squirrel, because I don't have anything else, and I can't give you- ARGH!"

I still remember the feeling of being pinned up against the wall. I still remember the feeling of his lips on my neck.

I still remember him saying that he'd give me two loaves of bread if only I'd give him something in return. By now, I'd caught on. He wanted me to give him my-

I'd managed to fight him off, but not before my shirt had been ripped, my lips kissed, and my body touched.

And I'd never told anyone.

When Prim asked me how I'd managed to rip my shirt so bad, I told her it was on a tree in the woods.

When Gale asked me if I'd ever kissed someone one quiet morning in the woods, I told him I hadn't.

I always let Gale handle trades with the baker, and if I ever saw Jasper in school I'd avoid him.

But he always gave me a sick little smirk, as if he knew what I was going through and loved it.

☦︎☦︎☦︎

The only thing I'm glad of is that he's too panic striken to give me that look now.

He's beside me now, and a whole head taller. I can practically hear his heart beating from here.

And he can probably hear mine.

What he has done to me has cut me so deep, but I've become used to hiding the pain.

Well, at least I'm spared the embarrassment of telling somebody, because I'm not going to survive much longer.

"Our tributes from District Twelve! Sage Everdeen and Jasper Mellark!" Effie announces excitedly. "Well, go on, you two, shake hands."

I'm not going anywhere near him, I scream inside my head as I turn towards Jasper, him doing the same to me. I'm fucking not-

But I do. My hand makes contact with his, which is huge and sweaty. I almost flinch back at the contact, because this hand has touched me in places it shouldn't. This hand has hurt me in ways I never thought possible.

"Happy Hunger Games!" Effie finishes, as we let go of our hands. "And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

They weren't for me today, I think, so many thoughts whirring round my brain so much that I can't think, can't move, can't speak-

But it doesn't matter.

Because soon, I'll be dead anyway.