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The sun is beating down on my sunburned face when I spot the familiar black Cadillac sitting in the driveway. I stand there for a moment, my basket of gardening tools clutched in my hands, as I stare at the car. I know this car. It’s the same one Prim and I rode in coming to this horrid place.
“Mr. Heavensbee?” I question aloud, walking toward the driveway in a daze.
What is he doing here? Is it for business?
“Katniss!” Sister Effie shrills, breaking my trance. My head snaps in the nun’s direction and she points to the rose garden where I’m supposed to be helping with pruning. I sigh, looking back at the car once more, before trudging back to the garden where the rest of my group works diligently. We were promised a special treat if Father Snow approves of our work and it wasn’t often we were rewarded, so we all took our tasks more seriously today.
My knees groan in protest as I sink to the ground to inspect the lower branches for anything dead. Days like today were my least favorite to work in, where the sun is merciless and the heat doesn’t let up for a second. Gardening the extensive gardens at St. Thomas’ makes me feel forty times older than my thirteen-year-old self ought to feel.
I’m cutting away dead branches when a hand caresses my back. I jump, squeaking at the touch, and turn to see a grinning Peeta standing next to me with the basket of branches we’ve been collecting for burning. My eyes squint as I look up at him and smile back.
“Care to help the needy?” he jokes in a creaky ol’ beggar’s voice, shaking the basket with a hunched back. “You, miss,” he acknowledges me, “please help the needy, or rot in Hell for all your sins!”
I cover my mouth to hide my laughter, glancing over to see if Sister Effie had heard, but she sits, unfazed, under an umbrella she’d set up earlier this morning to supervise us, fanning herself, and I hand him my branches.
“That’s quite the punishment,” I play along. “Going to Hell for not giving you my branches.”
“Oh, God watches all,” he continues in the voice, and we both duck behind the rose bushes to cover up our laughter before someone sees.
“You’re so lucky you get to go inside,” I whisper once we’ve calmed down. “I’m going to have a burnt head for weeks.”
“Hardly,” Peeta scoffs, popping his head up and deciding to take a break while I continue pruning. “Coin is there each time I go into the shed, inspecting everything I dump into the pile. It’s annoying.”
I nod, imagining the coolly composed woman standing watch as Peeta and the other select boys brought in their baskets of branches and dead leaves, closely inspecting each branch with the same critical cruelty she holds when inspecting our daily chores. “She’s like God, only worse!”
“Don’t ever compare that woman to God, Katniss. It’s insulting.”
I continue pruning the dead roses, their snowwhite petals wilting as I work while Peeta fans himself with his hand, complaining how it’s not fair that the boys are forced to wear pants in the humid summers while the girls got to wear dresses. I point out how I’m always cold in the winter time, but that doesn’t stop him from complaining over how unfair it is. We get into a tiny spat before Sister Effie starts to voice how our piles are gathering up. “Peeta? Has anyone seen Peeta?”
“Duty calls. I’ll see you in the kitchens,” he hisses before grabbing his basket and running to the next row over.
Carefully, so he won’t see me, I pop my head out and watch him run over to Annie Cresta’s pile. Peeta could complain all he wanted about the boys’ uniform, but I, well I kind of liked them. I liked how snug his shirt was against his broadening shoulders and the way the short sleeves seemed to bring out the small muscles he was gaining from working in the kitchens for so many years. His animated smile that I see in every dream he stars in is on his face, laughing at a joke Annie must have told him, and the small butterflies I’ve been feeling for weeks now flutter again. I know it’s a sin to be looking at him when I’m supposed to be working on my chores, but God won’t mind my looking for another second, right?
A blood curdling scream howls from the house, breaking my focus, and we all pop our heads up in its direction, wondering who Coin’s latest victim is this time. Screaming only worsens your punishment, so I have to give the victim credit for taking a chance, especially if the car does belong to Mr. Heavensbee, and that’s when it hits me.
The last time I heard that scream I was seven years old at the Hawthornes’, trying to help my mother drag a screaming Prim to the car, screaming how she didn’t want to leave Rory, the second-oldest Hawthorne son who was the same age as her. Prim didn’t have many friends at home since we lived with my dad’s parents in an older neighborhood than the Hawthornes, and Rory and Prim had clicked instantaneously. She begged and begged for Mama to leave her there, screaming when she was told no, and I remember pinching my ears closed, trying to block out the piercing sound. Wishing she would stop.
Before registering why she could be screaming, I bolt from the rose garden, ignoring Sister Effie's threats, and run through the back door, trying to target where the screaming is coming from.
What did Prim do to get Coin’s attention? Didn’t I always tell her to blend in? That standing out was a bad thing here?
The screaming sounds like it’s coming from the foyer, an area we are forbidden from entering unless scrubbing the floors and dusting furniture. Prim must have been curious about something and gone in there. I run toward the sound, sweat burning my eyes, and there at the bottom of the stairs, holding onto the door frame for dear life, is my sister. Mr. Heavensbee is pulling at her to follow him, insisting they’re going to be late for their train. Prim continues to scream, telling him she doesn’t want to leave.
“I want to stay! Please let me stay!”
“Now, now,” Mr. Heavensbee consoles impatiently, “Child, we’re going to be late, and your new family is waiting. Remember how much you liked them?”
Her screaming continues and I have to shout over it, hoping she hears me.
“Prim?” my voice cracks. “Prim!” I race down the stairs, almost tripping on my own feet. Did he say she’s leaving? A new family? But what about me; didn’t he promise we’d stay together?
She looks up, her eyes puffy with tears, and yanks free of Mr. Heavensbee, running into my open arms. I run my hand down her sweaty hair, shh-ing and telling her everything is going to be alright.
“I don’t want to leave,” she cries into my dress, clinging onto me so tightly I fear she may break a rib.
“Who says anything about leaving?” Looking up at the large man, I ask what’s the meaning of this.
He opens his mouth, stuttering out a response, when a cold voice sharply replies: “That is not how a child speaks to an adult.”
My arms stiffen around Prim’s body as I look over my shoulder at Madame Coin standing on the bottom step, her bony hand clutching a small bag I recognize as Prim’s belongings.
No... No! She can’t!
“You’re sending Prim away?” I pray this isn’t true, that God is playing a cruel prank on me.
“Primrose has the opportunity for a better life,” Coin sniffs.
“She’s my sister!” I turn to Mr. Heavensbee. “You promised we’d stay together! You promised!” Tears of betrayal start to fall as I cling to my little sister. “You told me you’d make sure we’d stay together!”
He nervously traced the bushy mustache and glanced at his watch again. “Things change,” he tells me. “You can never tell in this profession.”
“But you promised!”
A sharp tug of my braids breaks my grip on Prim; Coin’s arm holding me in her clutches as Heavensbee captures Prim. I fight with all my might, knowing the consequences of acting out like this will be severe, but he promised! I promised! We would stay together after Mama and Papa passed.
“It’s been a pleasure having you under God’s house,” Madame Coin states with false sincerity. “May you find grace under your new roof, Primrose Williamson.”
I can barely see I’m crying so hard as the realization that my sister is leaving forever hits me. I’ll probably never see her again. “Prim! Prim!” I break out of the witch’s grasp and run outside to the car, begging Mr. Heavensbee to take me, too. “I’ll cook, clean,” I beg. “I’ll do anything to stay with Prim, Mr. Heavensbee. Just—please, let me go with you.”
He peels my hands off his suit, pushing me into the grass, and gets into his car. I watch in a teary blur as my sweet little sister drives farther and farther away until finally, the car is completely out of sight. My heart cracks to pieces. My body numb. The world spins and breaks all at once.
My eyes break away from the driveway and target the group of children peeping out by the side of the house, even a few curious nuns joining them. I try to compose myself, to brace myself for the inevitable punishment that is waiting for me inside, but all I can do is gasp for air, curling my arms around my legs. My little Prim is gone. She’s going to a new family. Without me. I truly am alone now.
“What do you think you children are doing?” Madame Coin snaps at the audience, shooing them with her cane. “Be gone and finish your chores, or God will punish you for meddling in others' business!”
I see Peeta in the crowd, his recent growth spurt making him a few inches taller than the other children, and my stomach sinks so low I’m sure the Devil can see it. This is my punishment for looking at a boy. Madame Coin, and even Father Snow, always insisted that we do not look. It is a sin to look when we were put on this earth to serve. I looked and lost my sister. I’m sure He’s laughing from above at my foolishness.
My eyes avert to my too small shoes, hoping everyone would just leave me be so that I can be punished and sent back to work.
“That was quite a scene you exhibited, child.” I know I should look up—children must look up to their superiors—but the thought of that woman’s cruel smirk at the sight of my tears made my blood boil.
“I apologize, Madame,” I hiccup, running my hand across my snotty nose. “She’s my sister.”
“Was,” Coin corrects and I do look up now, rapidly blinking as my eyes adjust to the bright sun hitting her light blonde hair. “She’s no relation to you now and I suggest you remember that. You lost all relations the moment your parents dropped dead.”
She was trying to get to me, wanting me to say something that would cause a bigger punishment than I could ever imagine, and I should keep my mouth shut and falsely accept her statement, but a little voice inside my head reminds me that lying is worse than a beating.
“Pardon me, Madame Coin, but aren’t we all God’s children? Doesn’t that mean we’re all related?” I regret the words the moment they leave my mouth. A lie would have been better.
“You insolent little girl!” she growls, reeling back her cane. I instinctually cover my face, praying to God for how sorry I am and for Him to please make the beating bearable. I don’t want to limp like Peeta, or flinch at every sound like Clove Anderson.
Please , I beg. Make it fast.
The wooden cane never strikes and I peek out from under my arm in surprise and see Coin standing there, a calculated look written on her face.
“Stand,” she commands and I oblige, too curious and confused at what was happening. “I should give you thirty lashes for that scene alone,” and the ball in my throat gets stuck at that. I’ve never received thirty lashes before. “But I’m going to be merciful today. Follow me.”
We walk past the gardens, my chin high in the air as heads cautiously pop up to watch us pass. I don’t know where we’re going, but soon we are close to the woods, about a mile I’d guess from the house. Questions fill my head as I wonder if she’s actually going to kill me out here in the wild, where no one can hear me scream. It’s numbing knowing I wouldn’t put up much of a fight if she did decide to kill me. There’s no point trying, now.
Coin stops in front of a small hut that’s no bigger than our gardening shed and pulls out a ring of keys. She unlocks the door and steps to the side, motioning for me to step in. I peer inside, cringing at the smell, and I know this is my punishment for acting out in front of Mr. Heavensbee and for talking back when I wasn’t supposed to. She’s going to lock me in here.
“Well get in!” And she grabs my collar, shoving me into the dank, dark room. From the smell alone I can tell no one’s been in here for years and I feel around for anything, the tiny hole near the floor supplying no light. The room is empty. “You will spend 40 hours in here. One hour for every lashing you would have received had I not been in such a good mood. You will repent to the only person out here: God. And when I return, I expect you to recite an explanation on your sins and what you have learned from your time out here. Am I understood?”
“Yes, Madame Coin.”
She closes and locks the door and I am shrouded in darkness. Alone, I can finally cry without worrying about eyes watching, and I cry until God takes mercy on me and I fall asleep.
I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep, or how late it is, but a tiny knock on the door alerts me awake.“Who is it?” I demand. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me,” Peeta hisses, knocking again.
I stand up and feel my way to the door. “Peeta? What are you doing here? Did you sneak out?” I accuse, wondering why he always put himself into harm’s way for me.
“What? No! No, Katniss.” I hear him sigh and I lean my head against the wooden door, imagining the way his chest rises, his hands in his hair because he’s agitated. “I brought you some bread and water.” A tray slides through the tiny hole by the ground and I stumble to it, my stomach growling at the knowledge of food. It’s hard to keep myself at bay while eating the single slice of bread, but I manage and take a tiny sip of water, savoring the refreshment I’ve been denied all day.
“Does she know you’re out here?” I ask at last, hoping he won’t get into trouble because of me again.
“She told Annie to bring it, but she’s afraid of the dark and I offered to take the tray instead.”
“Does Coin know you’re out here, Peeta?” I clarify.
He doesn’t say anything for the longest time and I know his answer before he even says it. “She knows you’re being fed, but no, she doesn’t know that I’m the one who’s bringing it to you.”
I sigh and roll onto my back, looking up at darkness. “God’s punishing me.”
“What? No! You can’t believe that, Katniss. Madame Coin is insane. Possessed, I’m sure.”
“I sinned, Peeta, and He took my sister away,” I simply tell him, my voice emotionless. I must have cried longer than I thought. “Prim’s gone because of me.”
“Don’t tell me you’re starting to believe in all that.” His hand finds my arm through the hole and I scoot up so that our hands are holding onto each other. I wonder if this is another sin we’re creating, but holding hands doesn’t seem terrible. I’m sure Jesus held his best friend’s hand and Peeta is the only person I can depend on in this place now.
“I don’t know what to believe.” And that’s all I say until he tells me he has to get back before they lock the doors, squeezing my hand in parting.
“I’ll come back tomorrow,” he promises, but I’m beginning to lose hope in promises.