Primrose is frightened out of her wits, and although I would never admit it, I am too. The reasons are, however, different.

Today, Primrose would attend the Reaping for the first time, not as an observer but as a contender. She could become a volunteer from district 12 for the brutal and disgustingly torturous Hunger Games. My fragile sister could become a tribute!

I can never watch her cry, how would I see her bruised, bloody and beaten up in the arena! Even the thought of death is not far fetched in the arena. So I have decided to kill the escort, the Capitol’s representative on live television. And I'm scared.

***

Akin to previous years, the 74th Hunger Games involves herding all the twelve through eighteen year-olds into the Hall of Justice, which has an unfortunate irony for a name. Effie Trinket, the escort for district 12, is as obnoxiously cheerful as she used to be, while blabbering about the history of the games. The crowd turns dead silent as she finishes; the time arrives when the names of tributes are chosen from the box of all names, girls and boys separately. Peacekeepers encircle the crowd of contenders, helping the Capitol perpetuate fear, instead of living up to their title.

“Primrose Everdeen”

My baby sister! Tears well up in my eyes as I think of an alternate reality where I had not compassed the destruction of the Capitol. Through glazed eyes I gasp, “I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!”

Gasps escape from everywhere but my eyes find my sister's which look pleadingly at me, she knows about my plan. I revert my eyes and strut towards the platform. I feel dazed as I say my name on the microphone.

“Peeta Mellark”

I recognize him from my class as he starts towards the platform. I meet Gale's eyes in the crowd and nod my head to indicate him to go ahead with our plan. He shouts, “I volunteer for Peeta.” The crowd stands stunned and Peeta looks baffled as my friend, Gale Hawthorne, makes his way towards us. Never before in the history of district 12 had anyone volunteered for any of the selected tributes, let alone both of them. Effectually the crowd starts cheering, sobbing, sighing, wailing, all at the same time. Everything is being broadcast on live television, right from the collective berserk expressions of citizens to the perplexed but stolid peacekeepers.

Sensing the pandemonium before us, Gale snatches Effie's arms and shoots a tranquilizer into her before putting the syringe back into his pocket. Her screaming protests immediately subside as she crumbles on the floor. His act capture the attention of everyone before us, including the peacekeepers, who reposition their arms facing us. In an attempt to stop them, I produce a pocket knife from my boot and hover it over Effie’s senseless body, then grab the microphone and holler, “Don't dare move or I'll kill her.” The head peacekeeper seems to converse with someone over an earpiece. Then he turns towards us and shouts, “What do you want?” Seething, I retorted, “What do we want! We want to stop the Hunger Games, we don't want to be pawns for your entertainment! Our district and all of Panem is sick of being treated like a scum of President Snow's shoes. We want to live and we want to live freely. Everyone who wants to join us can do so now, tomorrow might be too late.” The crowd chants my name as I go on, “This marks the beginning of a rebellion against the Capitol. Let's join hands for a better future.” Effectually, I pierce the knife through Effie's heart.

From the corner of my eyes, I could see Gale collapse, I felt myself fall along with him as bullet after bullet perforate our chests. Out of all the noise, I could decipher a singular outcry, “Katniss, I'll make them pay!”

"Prim! The pain from every bullet is worth it if you’re safe", I hear myself whimper as I felt the pain, alongside my life, ebbing away.