The timeline of the story is slightly different from the epilogue of Mockingjay and some other events may differ as well.
I don't own any of the original Hunger Games characters, only the newly introduced ones.
I look down at the framed photo Haymitch had taken in one of his completely sober states, though such states were a rarity. It's of us; the Mellark's sitting on the porch. Mum and Dad are standing, and he's snaked an arm around her waist. Us, children are at the bottom of the photo, perched on the steps. It goes me, Rye, Lily. Lily's holding Rye's hand and everyone is smiling happily.
I like the photo. Mum and dad are happy, even though I know they've been affected from the rebellion and Hunger Games. I've met few people of the rebellion. Other than Haymitch of course. Photos circulate and phone calls are placed, but no-one ever really comes here. Mum and dad have gone away on occasion, although it's not common.
The house positioned behind us is not in the Victor's Village, a common mistake that many make. Haymitch is sick of redirecting people down the road.
Mum had recently given our address over the phone to someone, who I think was part of the rebellion. Though that person has never been mentioned to me in this household. I'm not sure if they are visiting, I think that my mother had been writing to this person for the last couple of years.
By my feet in the photograph sits our cat. A yellow colored cat with sleek fur and white tipped paws. When Lily and I were little we had had another cat; Buttercup. My mother despised the ugly thing, but we loved it so much that when it died we begged her for another. She only relented because she found what she called a good looking cat.
The cat's fur matches my blonde hair that cascades over my shoulders. Something Lily did not inherit. She has mum's dark hair even though we are twins. People seem to forget that when we are apart, but you can't miss it when we're together like this.
Rye on the other hand inherited everything you can describe as the Seam look except of course for his blonde curls of which are the Merchants'. In the photograph his hair is a tousled mess, like usual. It is a joke that Rye comes from District Four, because to the rest of the District he looks like a 'beach boy.' They say when he gets older the girls will be all over him. Maybe they are now at his kindergarten.
"Freesia!" I can hear my mother call me from upstairs.
I set our family portrait carefully back on the mantelpiece where I found it next to the clock and bowl of keys.