“Primrose Everdeen”

 the speaker booms

across the Hob,

drooping faces, 

the look of pity,

as I slowly walk up the aisle, 

Straighten your back,

do not cry, pull yourself together 

“Prim”, the sobs echo around

as Katniss tries to reach out to me,

the two peacekeepers forcefully hold her back

Protect me Katniss, please, 

you promised it wouldn’t be me

 in the reaping, HELP ME

“I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE,” 

Katniss screams,

my body instantly collapses, 

knees shaking to the floor, 

I slump down, sobbing 

as she walks to the stage

“I’ve always got your back, Prim, 

always,” she whispers 

as she brushes up to the stage

the sibling bond, evident: 

the older, wiser sibling 

always making sure 

they have your back 

There are so many ways

to kill the trust, 

we once bestowed upon you

That night two years ago 

a man was following me around the store,

1:00 am, the sliver of the moon

barely illuminating the shop's entrance 

slowly stepping in, the bright neon 

candies come to me, 

yet there he is

one hairy old man, 

slick gray hair and a tight black shirt 

with baggy skinny jeans

a cigar box in his right back pocket

his sly grin, head titled

as I walk into the store, 

his gaze burning a hole into my skin,

the way he staggers past,

ever so slightly bumping into me, 

his slimy wrinkled hands brushing against me, 

walking straight past me, 

the glistening cereal boxes, 

jumping cartoon animals call me back, 

the smokey whiskey breath

jolts me, he’s here.

Pulling out my phone,

I shoot my older brother a text

I think I’m being followed

No response

I dart to the register 

slamming my items on the belt, 

he’s here. 

Again.

the color slowly drains out 

from under me, 

the once neon-bright pink candy 

turns a mere dull shade of grey, 

the music in the small shop stops, 

the lights begin to flicker, 

“Mam, here is your change,” the cashier says

snapping my back to reality. 

I snatch the change

RUN!

without a second glance, 

I take off running, sprinting 

clawing my way forward, 

my legs outstretched, 

my hands tremble, 

and my heart squeezes together, 

driving my arms as fast 

as they can go, 

slamming the door shut

I collapse onto the floor, 

barely peeking out of the curtains. 

He’s gone.

It’s a funny thing the first time you're followed 

the way your heart doesn’t stop beating

the paranoia keeping you up,

The memory playing over and over, 

what’s funnier,

the moment you realize 

your brother the one to protect you

doesn’t even think it’s real. 

“Alexa,” my broad-shouldered, 

Six-foot-one brother hunched over me,

“he wasn’t following you 

he was shopping, 

you're being dramatic, 

quit overreacting,”

the look of annoyance shooting 

daggers into my heart, 

the brown eyes penetrating 

my gut, 

he slouches back into his chair

slinging the headphones back onto his ears

the conversation was over. 

nothing happened.

My brother didn’t realize it then 

but he had killed a big part of the trust 

in our relationship, 

no more late-night talks or rants

I was just being annoying, 

too much drama,

a typical girl overreacting, 

nothing a guy does has bad intentions. 

His protection of me, over.

The last bit of childhood innocence disappeared.

Welcome to the real world.