I'm just tired of all these fanfictions about how Peeta and Katniss grew back together after the war. I've been looking for fanfics where they are kids, but it's hard to find. So I made one by myself.

It's a collection of oneshots based on memories that Peeta could "save" from hijacking. Something like that.

Sorry about my grammar. I'm trying to improve it.

Years Ago

Chapter 1

Twenty-nine years ago, I didn't even know her.

My father had waked me up early that morning. I was so sleepy I barely understand what was happening. He put my clothes on and took me by the hand to the Town Square, where there was already a group of children with their parents waiting to line up. The night before, he had tried to explain what we were going to do, but I didn't pay attention at all.

Since I was the youngest of three brothers, I already knew someday I was going to school. However, my brothers and my mother always make it sound like boring and scary, so I wasn't excited about it. There were kids bigger than me, stronger than me and wiser than me, that probably hated me just because I was from town.

A lot of Seam boys hated people from town just because our lives were supposedly easier. I couldn't understand why – why were our lives so different from each other.

Ever since I was a little baby, my parents kept saying I was lucky. I was born in town, not in Seam. I had steeled bread for breakfast – what wasn't good, but was better than nothing. I would never starve. I would never die from hungry. Or so that was what my father told me.

Father was always the sweet side of the family. Whenever I seemed to be scared of Seam people, father held me tight and said I shouldn't be afraid, since they were just like us, just less economically provided.

My mother, on the other hand, was much more unpleasant when it came to Seam people. They weren't just unlucky: they were disgusting, wild and stupid animals that lived underground mining coal. They were below our pigs.

I couldn't see the difference between us, unless our skin tones and hair colors. My hair was ash blond and my skin was almost as pale as paper. Mother never let me play outside, and I was too young to work, so my skin had hardly ever seen the sun.

Seam people were usually darker. They had their skin tanned. Their hairs were usually dark brown or black – obscured by the coal from mines. The funny thing was I liked their color. It was unique – at least for me, a five years old boy from town.

Therefore, I was so amazed by the hundred children with dark hair around me that I almost forgot they were probably noticing me too, with my blond hair shinning in the sun. And, unlike me, their look wasn't full of admiration. Instead, they were looking at me with rage.

I don't want to go to school, I thought to myself. I was scared of the Seam kids and their hate towards me, the teachers, and even my own two brothers (who would probably pick on me). However, I didn't have much choice. I was dragged from my bed to the square without even having a chance to complain about it. And now I was looking around nervously trying to find a way to escape.

My father noticed my tension and put his big hand on my tiny shoulder.

"It's gonna be ok." He said, trying to comfort me. "School will be fine."

"But Michael said they hate blond people." I haven't said who were "they", but it was obvious. Seam kids.

"They don't, ok? Just a few of them does." Father told me patting my shoulder. "Usually they will just ignore you. Don't talk to them and you will be fine."

"Why, daddy? Why can't we be friends?"

Oh, kids. Kids and their sweet little whys. Why is the sky blue? Why are my eyes blue? Why does cake taste sweet? Why can't I be friends with someone from Seam?

Unable to formulate a better response, my father muttered. "You can be friends."

"But you said 'don't talk to them'."

"Unless they talk to you, that's what I meant." I was still confused, so he leaned towards me and whispered. "Look, most of them are not interested in being friends with town people."

"Why not?"

"Because we have different lives, that's all."

I obviously was not satisfied with that answer. "And just because we're different we ignore each other?"

"Not at all." Father was almost sighing. "Some seams are friends with towns, of course."

"Do you have a Seam friend, daddy?" I asked. My father scanned the square looking for someone.

"See that little girl over there?" He pointed at a girl wearing a red plaid dress. I turned my attention to the girl. Her hair was dark brown and shinning, with two long braids falling lovely over her shoulders. Her skin was darker than mine, but not that much. She's cute, I almost said out loud.

"Is she a friend's daughter?" I asked with hope. Maybe we could be friends.

"No. This woman with a baby beside her is her mother."

I looked out for the mother and finally understood what my father was trying to show me. It wasn't the girl… It was…

"She's blonde!" I said as I was saying the grass is green. "The mother is blonde! How is it possible?"

My father laughed a bit. "See? Let me tell you a secret." He leaned over, whispering in my ear. "I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner."

"A coal miner?" I couldn't believe. Everybody always talked about how rude coal miners were, so I didn't understand why a woman would choose one of them over my father, who was the best man in the world for me. "Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?"

"Because when he sings… even the birds stop to listen." Father answered. I wanted to ask him more about the story, but he seemed lost in memories, so I just followed the line.

Meanwhile, I looked around the crowd and found the blonde woman again. I still wasn't convinced that a girl from town could have fallen in love with a guy from Seam and (even worse) the guy returned her feelings. And despise all the differences, they got married and had a beautiful daughter. It was… impressing.

When the time came, father let me with the peacekeepers and the others. An adult (who might be a teacher) led us to school and separated us in groups.

I realized the girl with the red plaid dress was just a few feet from me. I took in every little detail of her: her sun kissed cheeks, her little nose, her big grey eyes. She was the most amazingly beautiful girl I had ever seen. Of course I hadn't seen a lot of girls by this time, but I wasn't thinking about it.

Before I could notice what was happening, a woman came and led our group to a classroom.

"Hi little cupcakes!" She said, smiling widely. "I am Miss. Mello, but you can call me Stella." She opened he arms to show us the classroom. "Please have a sit."

The room was filled with little chairs disposed in a semicircular form. I sat two chairs away from the red dress girl, and watched as she played with the tips of her braids.

"I'm going to be your music teacher." Stella continued. "But since it's our first class, I want to know a little more about you guys, and I want to present myself." She smiled widely. "Does anybody here know The Valley Song?"

Red Dress (I should have asked her name to father) lifted her hand enthusiastically. Stella smiled sweetly at her.

"What is your name, darling?" Thank you, teacher.

"Katniss Everdeen." She said, sure of herself.

"What a beautiful name! You see, Katniss, The Valley Song is my favorite song. Would you please sing it to us?"

Red Dress – Katniss, I corrected myself. Nice name – stood up without even hesitating. Teacher had her on a stool and they exchanged looks, Katniss asking for permission to start. Stella nodded.

I paid attention to the birds outside. The mockingjays were singing happily. Suddenly, Katniss joined them. Her voice was so sweet, so mellifluous; I wasn't sure if my heart was still beating or if I had died and was having some kind of vision of heaven in front of me. But she was there, real, and it was perfect.

I was so stunned I haven't noticed at first that the party outside had ended. The birds were quiet, curious, listening to the song. I could understand why. Even they wanted to hear her beautiful voice. And that was when it hit me: the birds stopped to listen to Katniss! Just like her father!, I thought, excited.

And I'm here. Astonished. Just like her mother.

This thought wasn't exciting at all. In fact, something inside me turned cold. Oh no. I was finally out of my trance. That means I was perfectly aware of the fact that I was probably… falling with the girl.

The song ended and the class applauded Katniss shyly. I couldn't manage myself to clap my hands, though. I was still petrified. A slightly blush appeared on Katniss' cheeks while she returned to sit.

"Very good, Katniss." Said Stella. "You've got a beautiful voice."

"Thank you, miss." Katniss was flattered.

"So now you guys know my favorite song." The teacher pointed at a blonde girl. "What's your name?"

"Delly." She said in a whisper. "Delly Cartwright."

"Do you have a favorite song, Delly?"

It was hard to pay attention to their conversation with my confused mind. Instead, I looked away from them. And then it happened.

It was all in a heartbeat, faster than my brain could process. I glanced over at Katniss…

And found her eyes on me.

We locked our gaze for just one second before she looks away. This was enough for me, though. I kept staring at her back while her fingers ran nervously upon her braid. Something warmed me up again, and I allowed myself to smile.

The song had touched me somewhere I didn't even know that existed. It made my chest hurt, in a good way. A funny tickling made me smile every time I caught a glimpse of her playing with her braid.

So what I might like her? That was not a big deal. Her own mother married someone from Seam… There was, there could be a possibility that she would marry someone from town too. She could be my friend after all. She probably didn't hate town people like the others.

I wasn't sure of what I felt, but I knew that I liked it.

That's it. Please tell me about my grammar mistakes, it helps a lot with writing.

And reviews are welcome, of course.