Hey everyone. Here's chapter 5.

Two songs for this chapter. As the scene changes the song changes.

*Big thank-you again to my beta, mrslukecastellan, who had been a-mazing..!*

Hope you all enjoy - and thank-you for the constant support !

Much Love - EffieMockingjay xoxo

"I see my life flash across the sky
So many times have I been so afraid
And just when I have thought I lost my way
You give me strength to carry on
That's when I heard you say…

I promise you, I'm always there
When your heart is filled with sorrow and despair
And I'll carry you when you need a friend
You'll find my footprints in the sand"

Lyrics from "Footprints in the sand" by Leona Lewis
^ Really sad song and video, but perfect for the emotions i'm trying to express. x

It was Prim's birthday. It was, as usual, a quiet meal between us and the Hawthorne's.

Gale was completely right about getting Prim the duck egg blue dress, and it was so worth the extra effort we had to go through hunting. You should have seen her face when she tore open the plain brown wrapping paper; her face lit up like it was the best gift she had ever received! It made me so happy, so content to be where I was, celebrating my little sister's birthday.

Days like this make me miss Dad so much. Just to see his face, his smile, and see him laugh. Prim will never know that. She was too young to remember him. At least my mother is slowly coming back to herself from that depression. She even rushed to arrive home from her work duty at Mister Abernathy's house to help set up the small meal of a turkey, a rarity, a lucky catch from myself.

My mother hadn't bought Prim anything, not that I had expected her to do so. Somehow, Gale had managed to buy a tiny cupcake and cookie, and we lit a candle and sang to her.

"Prim,"my mother started. "Peeta Mellark said to wish you happy birthday dear. He was with Mister Abernathy having breakfast. I didn't know you spoke to him dear." she looked at her, curious around the eyes quizzing her.

Peeta Mellark? The baker's boy from my class?

I turned to Prim, waiting her answer.


And then, that tormenting tune came onto the television. The Capitol Anthem.

The anthem was over in a flash and my mind was so confused thinking about Peeta Mellark and Prim…

I looked to Hazelle, who was clutching Posy, wide-eyed and shocked. Then to Gale, and Rory, and everyone else. They all wore the same shell-shocked expression.

I turned, listening. The little girl victor was dead. A crash or something.

Another dead kid… I thought to myself.

Life isn't fair, but thank god it wasn't Prim. Even the little girl had a look of Prim, the same sweet and petite features.

But that wasn't all. The next hunger games were being moved sooner. My mind was filled with panic and worry and I looked to Gale and quickly to Prim. She was crying. Of course she was crying. Everyone hated the games. Except the Capitol. And with me having to take out tessarae to keep us going, my name was going to be in that goblet a lot more times that a rich merchant girl. Plus this time, Prim's name would be in there. My sweet adorable little Primrose…

I had to do everything to protect her, but as Effie Trinket says in that pathetic Capitol accent, the odds are definitely in her favour. Only once will my little sisters' name be in.

President Snow, then announced that the Quarter Quell would be in three days time. It would be the 75th Hunger Games, and every 25 years, there would be a Quarter Quell.

Looking back towards my mother, she was naturally looking a lot more worse for wear than the rest of us. Her hands were gripped together so tightly, knuckles white and so bony they could protrude through her skin at any given moment. This would be especially bad for her. I remember her years ago telling me that her friend Maysilee was brutally killed at the 50th Hunger Games, the last Quarter Quell and they had twice the amount of tributes.
Imagine that. 48 bloodthirsty tributes, and my poor mother had to watch her friend die.

It was so so cruel. The Quarter Quells were the cruellest of them all. God knows what would be in store this time. You can never guess with a Quell.

I had to pray that Prim wouldn't get reaped.
Or myself.

The transmission was over in a flash, and the previous party atmosphere was shattered.

Prim no longer looked like the happy twelve year old who had received the most amazing duck egg blue dress and was celebrating her birthday.
She looked petrified.
Absolutely and utterly petrified.

I got up and sat next to her, grasping my arms around her skinny frame and pulling her onto my lap.

"Shush, little duck" I quietly whispered to her, comforting her.

"I promise it won't be you. I promise." She buried her face into the crook of my shoulder and I slowly rocked her.

"Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me I am small
And needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Ouch I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
Yeah I think that I might break
I've lost myself again and I feel unsafe"

Lyrics from "Breathe Me" by Sia

Three days later, the very same, haunting Capitol Anthem played out to all the districts.

I sit, hunched up next to Gale on a worn red blanket, his arms wrapped around me, whispering sweet calming words to me

"Katniss!" he shakes me softly.

I look to meet his eyes. I feel petrified.

"What's wrong Gale?"

"Your trembling." He whispers, pulling me closer so my legs are across his lap, my head on his chest. I hate to admit it, but I like it here. I feel safe and warm. With my other hand free, I grasp Prim's tiny palm. She's looking eyes wide, panting almost at the face of President Snow.

My throat tightens with repulsion as he takes the stage. He's followed by a young boy, dressed in a white suit holding a wooden box. He speaks to remind us all of the Dark Days, from which the Hunger Games were born, and then of the Quarter Quell, it's purpose to be a glorified version of the Games to make fresh the memory of those killed by the districts' rebellion.

How can they get any more glorified? I think to myself. They are killing innocent little kids as it is. What's going to be next?

President Snow goes on to tell us what happened in the previous Quarter Quells…

"On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it"

Imagine the whole of District 12 turning on Prim and forcing her in.. They couldn't do they to her. Surely if we had the twenty-fifth Quarter Quell, she would be safe. No-one would hurt her willingly. Neither myself. Too many people rely on my hunting…

"On the fiftieth anniversary", the president continues, "as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes".

This was the one my mother spoke of. With her friend Maysilee. 48 tributes..

"And now we honour our third Quarter Quell", says the president. The little boy in white steps forward, holding the box as he grips and opens the lid. There are hundreds of tiny yellow envelopes.

President Snow runs his shrivelled finger along them before stopping in the centre and pulling one out. He opens it and without hesitation, he reads, "On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that women and children are and always have been the weakest in society, and must submit to the male sex, I announce that ten female tributes, aged twelve to eighteen shall be reaped from every district and will, through a series of tasks, be constantly reminded of the sufferings and misfortunes of the female sex."

My mother gives a faint shriek and Prim clutches my hand pain etched on her sweet face, it's too much..

What did that mean? Only girls and ten of from district twelve... This is torture. Complete and utter torture. Prim has five times more of a chance now and I can't bare to think of her so innocent and sweet being forced into that arena...She wouldn't last five minutes...

Don't cry Katniss, don't do it!, I tell myself...
I can'tcry, if I do, it will only make Prim worse…

I look to Gale. His face screwed in pain and puzzlement. He looks so confused as he meets my eyes, panic stricken.

Next thing I know, Gale cups either side of my face softly and kisses me slowly on the corner of my mouth, before pulling away. I open my mouth, about to protest.

What on earth is he doing? How dare he! I think.

He puts his fingers to my lips, stopping me protesting and brings me back close to him again, clutching me so hard like he will never let me go.

"It'll be alright Katniss." he whispers softly in my ear, desperately trying to comfort me.

It's no use. With five times as many tributes, that's 10 tributes from district 12 alone. That makes me even more likely to be picked, plus its female tributes only. Prim should still be safe, I hope.

As for me, well… the odds are definitely not in my favour.

That's chapter 5. Hope you enjoyed it.

IMDb Catching Fire rumours are saying it's Sam Claflin playing Finnick - so do you guys think this is true and if so, if its a good choice?
I would have preferred someone like Armie Hammer *swoons*. Haha...
I'm interested to hear who you guys wanted?!

I'm super happy about Jena Malone, as she is exactly how I pictured Johanna. I just hope she has a lively sarcastic nature now! :P

ALSO - Thanks to everyone who asked about my chemistry assignment – I finished it and submitted it, but I doubt very much that I've passed it :) It was super hard.

Please R&R! Love reading them so much!

Much Love – EffieMockingjay x