Disclaimer: I don't own THG.

Her hair-wig- slips, moving off center. My eyes focus on the tiny details, the light shade of pink, so sweet and pretty. As though it doesn`t sit on the head of one who holds my fate in her hands. Just one slip out of thousands, just one. the words ring in my head, reassuringly. But all the same, some words aren`t going to save me. Although, my name could cause my death, written on a slip of paper.

My nails dig into my palms as she lifts a slip. Not me, not me, please, not me and not Katniss.

But the name that rings across the square is mine. I freeze, waiting for someone to walk up. But then it hits me. I have to go. Tears burst into my eyes, and I fight them back.I move forward, walking up, trying not to cry. I must be strong.

I squeeze my eyes shut, but splotches of pink remain, burned into my eyes.

Prim! Prim! I volunteer! is that my mind again?

I volunteer as tribute!

Katniss. She's so brave, so selfless. She can't die for me, I won't let her. I am expendable, whereas we need her. I cling to her, screaming, but Gale drags me off.

Up you go, Catnip. How could he?

And then Katniss gets on the stage, andit'sallablurofwhispersandtalkin g And Effie Trinket readjusts her pink wigs, and everything is normal.

Except it never will be normal again. And Prim will never wear pink again.