Prologue
She dances on with wild abandon. My mother is a beautiful woman. I share the same dark, flowing hair she has, but her eyes are bright and grey, like my brother's. She is small and bony, yet she is lithe and strong at the same time. Her face is worn, with lines beginning to show for it, but when she sleeps, it's like she had never faced the pain she did.
He follows her, smiling like he is the luckiest person on Earth. My father is strong and calm; always the negotiator, always thinking about the consequences. I possess his level head, but my brother possesses his strength, warmth, and heart. His blue eyes (the one's I own) show everything; truly the windows to his soul. They are clear and light when he feels the same way, but cold and dark when the nightmares take over.
A laughing child follows behind, happy that his parents are smiling, after quite some time now. My brother is loud, rash, and impulsive, but it's because he cares so much. Freckles speck his nose and cheeks, and he is lanky for his age, but his heart makes up for it all. He never ignores the chance to help, his heart always worn on his sleeves. He doubts himself sometimes, doubts he belongs. But those eyes are definitely my mother's, that hair definitely my father's.
I am the daughter of Katniss and Peeta Mellark. Everyone calls me Rose, though that is not my name. I am 13, but I know much for my young age. In fact, I know everything that is important to know; the story of Panem, the War, everything. They do not know I know. My parents I mean.
In school, we will only learn about it at 16, but Haymitch told me everything long before. He does not believe it should be kept from us for so long. He told them as bedtime stories at first, but as I grew older, I started to realise the truth behind them. By then, I was so used to listening to stories of children dying in games they didn't want to participate in, that the realisation did nothing to change my view on the world.
My favourite story is probably of the girl whom I was named after – Rue. I remember crying when Haymitch told it to me at first. It was still stories and games then. Years later, when I realised what those stories meant, it didn't bother me at all. I had already learnt that life goes on.
Much has changed I guess. This nation is no longer called Panem. It is called Mockingjay, after the bird that symbolised so much in the War. I think it's also a tribute to my mother, who gave so much. The districts all have names now. We are no longer just numbered slaves for the Government's own usage. The Capitol is still the Capitol though.
It is no longer an authoritarian government, but a diplomatic one. Our current president is President Brair. Members of the Parliament come from the Districts themselves, elected and voted for by the people. The first district still produces luxury items, the second still producing weapons. But everything's more equal now, fairer, because everyone has a right to speak up. We get to visit the other districts too now, the trains open to everyone.
There are no longer fences to cage us in. Roads have been built, connecting us all with one another. The thirteenth district has come out from the dark, with houses built on top now. The Seam is more of a middle class neighbourhood area, while what was once called the Victor's Village, for the richer ones. The Wilderness is still there, but everyone's allowed to enter it as they please. Still, little dare venture into it.
Yes, everything's much better now. Peaceful, prosperous even. Everything's much better now.