ᵗʳⁱᵇᵘᵗᵉ

‧₊˚🏹✩ ₊˚⊹

[ anything for a sister ]

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, Not her. Not my pure and sweet little sister. 

"Where are you, dear?" Effie questioned. "Come on up." The girls around Prim parted, staring at her with sympathy. "Well, come on up!" 

Slowly, her feet moved her across the gravel, and she subconsciously tucked in the back fabric, not wanting to look as if she had a duck tail in front of everyone.

Suddenly, I stepped forward, shrugging past the other girls my age. I reached the middle aisle just as she did, and I called for her, "Prim! Prim!" She immediately spun around at my voice, and I continued to walk, but two Peacekeepers held me back. "No! No!" The next words left my mouth in a scream, "I volunteer! I volunteer!" I shoved the guards away from me, nearly spitting on their pristine white uniforms before standing my ground. "I volunteer as Tribute!"

Effie watched, before stuttering, "Uh- I believe we have a volunteer, Mr. Mayor."

I ran to Prim, wrapping my arms around her and dropping down in front of her. "Prim, you need to get out of here. You need to get out of here."

"No," she denied. 

"Go find Mum!"

"No!"

"Prim, go find Mum right now," I ordered, my voice cracking. "I'm so sorry."

"No! No!" Prim cried. 

"Go find Mum. Prim, leave! Go find Mum!" I shut my eyes in relief when Gale appeared, pulling her away from me. 

Tears pooled at my eyelids from her terrified screams, "No! No! No! Y/N, come back!"

"A dramatic turn of events here in District 12," Effie said, a cheery tone to her voice. There hadn't been any drama in 12 since, well, ever. Another pair of Peacekeepers escorted me to the stage as I stared at the ground. "Yes, well. District 12's very first volunteer. Bring her up."
I paused at the steps, but continued, holding onto the cold metal railing. She beckoned me forth with her chrome-painted fingers, "Come on, dear." Effie took me by my shoulders, stopping me beside the mic. "What's your name?"

"Y/N Everdeen," I said quietly. 

"Well, I bet my hat that was your sister, wasn't it?"

She tilted the mic to me again with a charismatic grin, and I answered in the same voice, "Yes."

"Let's have a big hand for our very first volunteer, Y/N Everdeen." She clapped lightly, and instead of an applause, I watched as the crowd raised kissed their fingers, before raising them in a three-finger salute.

"And now for the boys," Effie continued. She repeated the actions from before, instead taking a paper from the bowl for the male tributes. Returning to the mic, she read out, "Peeta Mellark."

I watched as the boys in the 16-year old's group parted, revealing a boy. He was tanned, with dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. But the horrified expression is what made me continue to watch him as he walked to the stage. 

Never show them your emotions, I scolded in my head.

Effie reciprocated the same actions, taking Peeta by the shoulders and dragging him on the other side of her. "Here we are! Our Tributes from District 12!" She placed a hand on either one of our arms. "Well, go on you two, shake hands." I turned my head upwards to him, seeing as he was slightly taller. And that's when I remembered him. The boy from the bakery. I shook his hand, and he was stiff in returning the action. "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor."

I looked out the window of the room I was dragged into, waiting for my family to visit. The opening of the door caused me to turn, the Peacekeeper muttering, "You have three minutes."

I saw Prim's face, tear-stained and red from crying, and our mother behind her. Prim ran forward, and I hugged her close, whispering, "It's okay. Shh, Prim. Prim, it's okay. Shh. Prim, I don't have much time." I bent down to her eyelevel, rubbing her freezing arms. "Prim, listen. You're gonna be okay. Don't take any extra food from them. It isn't worth putting your name in more times, okay?" Her breathing was coming out shaky, so I stroked under her eye, wiping the tear. "Listen, Prim. Gale will bring you game. You can sell cheese from your goat."

"Just try to win. Maybe you can," she choked. 

"Of course," I nodded. "And maybe I can. I am smart, you know?"

"And you can hunt," she added. 

"Exactly."

She looked down, sniffing softly. I followed her gaze, finding her spinning Mockingjay pin in her fingers. "To protect you."

I took it, clutching it tightly. "Thank you." I pulled her close, placing a kiss on her forehead, letting her head drop onto my shoulder. I looked over at mum, slowly standing up. "You can't tune out again," I started. 

"I won't," she whispered. 

"No, you can't," I corrected sharply. "Not like when dad died. I won't be there anymore. You're all she has. No matter what you feel, you have to be there for her. Do you understand?" She bit her tongue, and I saw the tears forming. "Don't cry." I looked at her, before embracing her. "Don't cry. Don't. Don't."

The door opened, and the Peacekeeper quickly shuffled inside. "It's time."

Prim ran to me, clinging to my waist. "Prim, it's okay. It's okay, Prim."

"No! No!" she screamed, but the Peacekeeper was too strong, pulling her away from me. 

"Prim, it's okay," I said, but my resolve was cracking, as was my voice. "I promise, Prim-." The door shut, cutting me off. I reached out, and twisted the doorknob, surprised that it wasn't locked. Just as I closed it, it opened again, and I stumbled back with a gasp when it was Gale. I latched onto him, stuffing my face into his chest as he rested his chin on my shoulder. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, I know," he mumbled.

"I am."

"Listen to me." He broke away, leaning down close. "You're stronger than they are. You are. Get to a bow."

"They may not have a-."

"They will if you show them how good you are. They just want a good show. That's all they want. And if they don't have a bow, you make one, okay? You know how to hunt."

"Animals," I said.

"It's no different, Y/N."

"There's 24 of us, Gale. Only one comes out."

"Yeah. And it's gonna be you."

The door opened, revealing the Peacekeeper. "Okay."

"Take care of them, Gale. Whatever you do, don't let them starve," I whimpered, hugging him tight again.

"Let's go!"

"I'll see you soon, okay?" he said, and the door slammed again. 

"You two are in for a treat," Effie started, glancing at Peeta and I with a smile. "Crystal chandeliers, platinum doorknobs, and it flies. We'll be at the Capitol in less than two days."

I zoned her voice out, training my gaze outside. I dared not to look at Peeta, who was trying so desperately hard to hold in his tears. 

Soon, we arrived at the train, the Peacekeepers holding onto Peeta and I's arms as if we would run off at any second. Around us were the outer community of District 12, watching us go. Effie drew us to the entrance of the train. Inside, the inner door opened with a mechanical hiss and my eyes widened at the sight of the luxurious interior. 

There were dark blue velvet chairs, and those chandeliers Effie was bragging about. Silver glistened from the bright lighting, with mahogany side-tables and drawers. She pulled us to the seats, and I sunk into them, lightly gasping at just how comfortable they were. The train had apparently already started moving according to her explanations.

"200 miles per hour, and you can barely feel a thing," Effie started. "I think it's one of the wonderful things about this opportunity, that even though you're here and even though it's just for a little while, you get to enjoy all of this." Neither of us responded, and she grimaced, though hid it very well with a graceful smile. "I'm going to find Haymitch. He's probably in the bar car."

Her footsteps fell dull against the lavish carpet of the train's floor, and I looked down at my fingers, fiddling with them.

"Have you ever met him?" Peeta asked. I could see from the corner of my eye that he was watching me. "Haymitch?" he clarified, but I didn't respond again. "You know, Y/N, he is our mentor. He did win this thing once." I proceeded to ignore, finding great fascination in the golden lining of the window.
"Look, you know, if you don't want to talk, I understand, but I just don't think there's anything wrong with getting a little bit of help."

I turned to him, and the memories hit me again when we locked eyes. I must have been staring to hard or to intensely because he gulped, looking away as blush creeped its way onto his cheeks.

Suddenly, the door in front of us opened, revealing a man with stringy blonde hair. Haymitch. He also brought in a stench. He held his stomach, staring down at us, letting out a sigh. "Congratulations." He walked further, stopping by the drinks cart. He seemed to be in deep thought, pinching his fingers together before plucking a bottle, taking the cap in his mouth and pouring a hearty amount into his glass. He opened the silver ice pot but found none. "Where's the ice?"

"I don't- I don't know," Peeta murmured. 

Haymitch nodded to himself, then slammed the lid back onto the bucket, taking the bottle with him as he walked back to us. He lazily gestured to the seat, "May I?"

He plopped down with a clatter as I watched, unimpressed at his behavior. 

"Okay, so uh...So, when do we start?" Peeta asked.

"Whoa. Whoa. So eager." Haymitch held up a hand, wiping some of his hair from his face. "Most of you aren't in such a hurry."

"Yeah, I wanna know what the plan is. You're our mentor. You're supposed to go-."

"Mentor?"

"Yeah, our mentor. You're supposed to tell us how to get sponsors and give us advice," Peeta listed off. 

"Oh. Okay. Um..." Haymitch trailed off. "Embrace the probability of your imminent death. And know, in your heart, that there's nothing I can do to save you."

"So why are you here then?" I questioned with a scowl. 

He hummed, holding his glass up. "Hmm. The refreshments."

"Okay, I think that's enough-." Peeta reached for the cup, but Haymitch kicked his chest, holding him back down with his foot. I almost gagged at the sight. 

"You made me spill my drink. These are brand-new pants. You know, I think I'll go finish this in my room." He stumbled around, not quite remembering how he got here, but found his way back out, taking a treat along with him.

"He's gonna come around," Peeta remarked, standing up from his seat and following him.

"Wha- It's no use," I said. 

"I'm gonna talk to him." He left the compartment, leaving me alone as I glanced around the navy room. 

The next morning, I arrived late to breakfast as I had slept in. Last night, I had stayed up, watching the highlights from previous games. I was disgusted with the way the Capitol viewed these tournaments as nothing but a game. Something for children. 

I stopped in front of the door, looking through the window. I could see my reflection through the clean glass. I decided to leave my hair to fall in its natural state, but I was still wearing the same dress from the Reaping. 

I saw Effie, touching up her make-up, wearing an even more dazzling outfit then before. But I squinted at the sight of Haymitch and Peeta talking to one another. Peacefully. No feet on anyone's chest.

I entered the room quietly, but I only caught Haymitch replying, "That's a good way to get killed."

"What's a good way to get killed?" I asked. 

"Oh, joy. Why don't you join us?" Haymitch sniffled, pouring himself coffee. "I was just giving some life-saving advice."

"Like what?"

"Oh, I was just asking about how to find shelter," Peeta piped up, and I looked over at him, finding him with a small smile.

"Which would come in handy if, in face, you were still alive," Haymitch continued. 

"How do you find shelter?"

He sighed, "Pass the jam."

"How do you find shelter?" I repeated with a glare. 

"Give me a change to wake up, sweetheart," he half-begged, rolling his eyes. He suddenly took out a flask from the front pocket of his robe. "This mentoring stuff is very...taxing stuff." He placed the drink away, reaching forward. "Can you pass the marmalade?"

I flicked out my wrist, slamming one of the knives from the cutlery before me between his fingers, barely missing them. Effie gasped, and Haymitch's eyes bugged out as he stared me.

"That is mahogany!" she scolded.

"Look at you. Just killed a placemat," he mocked. He pulled the knife from the table, reaching over to carve out some of the fruit preserve. "You really wanna know how to stay alive? You get people to like you."
I slightly furrowed my brows, thinking he would miss it, but he didn't. "Oh! Not what you were expecting? Well, when you're in the middle of the Games and you're starving or freezing, some water, a knife, or even some matches can mean the difference between life and death. And those things only come from sponsors. And to get sponsors, you have to make people like you. And right now, sweetheart, you're not off to a real good start."

He bit into his marmalade-smeared toast, and I was about to rebuttal, Peeta got up from his chair. "There it is," he breathed out. "It's huge! That's incredible."

From my spot, I could see it. The Capitol. It was humongous, with shining towers and abstract buildings. Suddenly, the train darkened as we rode into a tunnel. There were cutouts in the underpass, causing light to shift in and out every second. 

And then the train was back out again, and my ears were met with muffled shouting and cheers coming from outside. Peeta watched with an astonished face at the thousands of people gathering outside, waving and blowing his kisses. He smiled, waving back, earning more whistles and ovation. 

"Peeta, I love you!" someone cried. 

He turned back to me with a sweet grin, beckoning me forth. "Come on. Come on."

He was such a natural at this. The whole people-pleasing act. It made me nauseous. But also, jealous. With what Haymitch told me, I needed to perfect that act. "You better keep this knife," my mentor voiced, breaking my train of thought. He held the cutlery up, placing it down on the stack of pancakes on my plate. "He knows what's he's doing."