When I wake up, the sky is dark.
It used to be a struggle, getting up this early in the morning- but now I crawl out of bed mechanically, barely noticing the cold biting at my exposed chest.
I pull a black t-shirt over my head, quickly followed by a grey knit sweater and jeans. The shirt has an unidentifiable stain, and the sweater is a hand-me-down, but the jeans are relatively new in comparison to the rest of the too-small clothes in my dresser drawers.

I glance over at the bed pushed up against the other side of the room.
The sleeping form of my brother, his brown hair a tangly mess, is visible underneath layers and layers of raggedy, patched-up quilts. I remember when I was like him- young, happy, full of hope for the future.

That was a long time ago.

Slowly, I push the bedroom door open, stopping it just before it creaks.
"See you later, Sammy," I whisper into the darkness, pulling the door shut behind me with a quiet click.

Through the frosted window, snow falls gently onto the cracked cobblestones of the street. I've always liked winter best. Frost covers up the dirt and grime of District 12 and, even if only for a little while, makes things seem a bit better.
Quickly, I pull on my boots and step out onto the front sidewalk. A layer of frost has formed over the top of the snow and it crunches with every step I take.
I smile slightly. It's a pretty day.
Too pretty for a reaping.

I come up to the fence that surrounds District 12 and put my ear close to it, listening for the hum of electricity. Like usual, it's dead, and I slide through a gap in the chain link. Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I start to talk towards where I stowed my shotgun the last time I hunted. It's exactly where I left it; the trigger's frozen and unmoving, but once the ice melts it'll work fine.

Weapons like this are illegal in District 12, so I don't ask where my father gets them. He probably wouldn't tell me anyway, with his mind consumed by alcohol; he took a huge blow when my mother died.

I trudge around for another hour, but to no avail. The sun starts to peek over the horizon, signifying that it's time for me to go home. I ignore the pangs of hunger in my stomach.

If I had caught anything, I'd have given it to Sammy anyways.