I was walking in the woods with my bow in hand and my sheath bouncing off of my back. That’s when I saw her, or at least I think I did. She was standing by the pond with open arms, beckoning me to her. “Prim,” I whisper with tears in my eyes, but I blink away the tears and she is gone. I will never forget the horrid day of her death, as she rushed in to aid the wounded and the second bomb that went off right over her head, the bomb that caused her death, the bomb that killed a part of me. The bomb that killed my sister. I wanted to scream on the top of my lungs for her to run but it was too late. I was too late.

 I walk back to my house in Victor’s Village where Peeta and I live with our two children, Rue and Gale. They were named after the two best people in my life. Gale had been my friend since I was 12 years old and who now works in district 2. And Rue, my ally in my first games. She helped me live. She was my friend who was too young and too gentle to die. The games have scarred everyone including Peeta, my fellow tribute from district 12.

 Twenty-four of us chosen to die on live TV. So many wasted lives at the hands of our previous leader, President Snow. I wish I could have saved all of them, but it is too late now, but I was too late.

That night I jolted awake screaming from a nightmare. Both of my children had been reaped. Reaped to kill each other with the whole country watching.

The next day, Peeta and I walked our children to meet Haymitch in the meadow by our house. The sky grew darker and Haymitch never showed. We walked back to our home and I went to Haymitch’s house. I practically had to shove down the door to get in, and just as I had expected. Haymitch sprawled on his couch with a bottle of white liquor in his hand. He was drunk.