Catching Fire: Prim [Completed]

Chapter 16: Making Friends

"Don't."

I say one simple word as I grab Rory's wrist, possibly cutting off his blood circulation. Then I head to my room in quick long strides, Rory follows with no choice. His face is still pale, but recovering.

"You can't say anything to him," I warn him. "You take one move and he'll be punished. Severely."

He nods, eyes welling with tears.

"Don't cry," I say sternly.

After a pause, I step forward and give him a hug. Then I hold his shoulders, looking into his grey eyes.

"Stay strong."

Effie comes in soon after, summoning us for dinner. Rory leaves first, leaving me space to change out of Cinna's beautiful fire costume. I wash off the heavy makeup as well before changing into a pair of jeans and light pink sweater.

Gale's presence at the dining table should have been something exciting, considering he had gone MIA for a while. But no one had ever expected to see him like this. We all eat our meals in silence, sending our new avox glances from time to time.

After a long and awkward meal, we decide to watch the recaps of the tribute parade, or as they call it, the opening ceremony. Just last year, it was like a celebration, bright costumes, young victors- lively. Now, with victors ranging from 13 years old to 60+, it's not quite the same. Everyone seems so glum in their dull costumes.

As the screen starts to fade, I rise from my seat, thank Cinna and Portia for the costuming, and leave for my room. Effie tells me to wake up early for breakfast, as we need to talk strategy. Her voice is not what it used to be, cheerful and upbeat. It is now gloomy and dull as well. It must be so sad for her, she finally had a decent year, and even that's about to be destroyed.

I get to bed and drift off to sleep, only to be engulfed into a nightmare.

"Let me go," Rory cries out.

"You'll join your brother," says a surgeon, holding up a sharp tool to his mouth.

"No!" Rory screams, closing his mouth shut.

"Now be a good boy," Surgeon No. 2 cackles, using his long thin hands to force his mouth open. I try to close my eyes as the tool approaches but I can't. They cut his tongue off, encasing it in a glass jar.

Blood starts pouring out of his mouth, and it's only then that I wake up. I throw off the covers and run out of my room. I find his room next door, knock, and barge in without waiting for a response. He's asleep, and I check for his tongue to assure myself that it was just a dream.

Sitting beside him as he sleeps reminds me of District 12, as I sat beside a wounded Rory. How I had wished to stay there with him.

The next morning, our mentors, Rory and I meet together to discuss 'strategy'.

"So, strategy," I say, ready to jump right in. I've always been more strategical than impulsive.

"You guys know, you're the youngest. That already puts you at a disadvantage. And you just won last year. The others've all known each other for a while. They'll come after you two," Haymitch tells us, matter-of-factly.

"So, what you guys need to do, is to make allies," Peeta says friendlily, eyeing Haymitch, who says,

"Yes that, and you have to act in love."

"What?!" the two of us exclaim out in unison.

"You heard me," Haymitch says.

"But-" I start to object