Prologue
It was a cold December afternoon, and I was incredibly bored. We were snowed in, and I was going stir crazy in my little home. It was out of pure apathy that I decided to go upstairs and search the attic for anything that might snare my interest.
I inspected the boxes in the attic with no such luck. All of them were labeled "Parker", and were probably full of my old baby toys and useless junk just like it. I grumbled with frustration and stood up. I was just about to head back down stairs to be with my mother when I something caught my eye. In the furthest corner of the storage space was a box marked "For Parker".
At that point my curiosity was captured. I walked over to it and opened the grimy lid. Dust flew everywhere, enveloping me into a dry cloud. Peering in, I at once understood what the mysterious box contained.
Inside were dozens of photographs. One that earned my attention was one of my mother, a girl my age, and a tall man. My mother appeared to be pregnant in the picture. I turned the image over to find the date, written in shaky script on the back. It read March 23, and the year I was born. That meant the young girl in the photograph was my deceased sister, Millie.
I studied her carefully. Short, curly auburn hair, hazel eyes brimming with happiness. She looked about twelve when the photo was taken. This meant that the picture must be a few months before she died.
Also inside wear letters from family and friends. I picked up one that read the following.
Dear Mother,
By the time you get this, I will be dead. I think we both know that this is true, and as much as we would like to change it, my fate is unstoppable. These past few weeks, I've kept a journal of my experience. This journal will be delivered to you with my body. You are not to bury it with me, but instead keep it in memory of my life. I want you to read it, to understand that I have excepted my destiny. When the time is ready, I need you to share it with my sibling. They need to understand that I gave my life up for this "entertainment" and that we need to stop this horrific tragedy that plagues us with the death of children every year.
I hear that some districts are getting an aura of anxiety. I too can feel the anxiety bubbling up, along with hope, and a feeling of rebelliousness that I cannot shake. I know that the people of district eleven are getting tired of being suppressed so greatly, for even though they talk in whisper, I can still here their cries. I met a boy about my age from eleven, his name was Parker, and he said that his mother and father where thinking of sneaking away with his older brother, Clevous, who is nineteen. He also is the one who told me of their cries. I think he will be my ally, and maybe we can help each other.
After you finish this letter, burn it. God forbid that a Peacekeeper searches the house and finds this on your night stand. Along with this is my will, which you will not burn. I love you mother, and make sure to tell my sibling that I love him or her too.
Love,
Millie
Going through the box, I found the will that Millie mentioned in her letter.
I, Millie Canosion, except full heartedly that my time has come. This is my last will and testament.
To my mother, I leave my body and diary. She is to use the money I saved up to feed her child and my sibling.
To my unborn sibling, I leave my photographs, letters, writings, camera, and notebooks.
To the orphanage I leave my clothes and wardrobe.
Signed: Millie Canosion, July 23rd
I sighed, stood up, and started climbing the stairs, but before I could even climb down, I heard a thump splish, coming from the direction of the box. Peeking over the floor, I could see that the box had mysteriously tipped over, spewing and scattering the papers all over the musty room. This incomprehensible event had once again seized my thirst for knowledge. I clambered up the staircase into the sky parlor and looked around to see the spilled papers. Lying in the center of the paper laid Millie's diary that mother has stored away. Guardedly, I ambled over to the cracked red leather and yellow paged book. Eyeballing the room, there were no obvious signings of exactly how the heavy box could have gotten knocked down.
I bent down, picking up the fancy notebook, inscribed with Millie Canosion in glimmering gold ink. I flipped the brittle pages, seeing that almost every page was filled with crisp, clean handwriting. I stood there, not really knowing what to do. Should I stay here? What about my room? Where can I go that mother won't find me? These thoughts danced and swirled around my head, I decided that I would wait patiently for midnight, and sneak up stairs, and creat a comfy corner of the room for me to read it.
...
Midnight did not come fast enough. I scaled the stairs silently, sitting down on the sheets I spread along the floor. I turned on a flashlight, and light illuminated the small, dark room. I hesitated before opening the book. Should I be reading this? Did mother have a good reason to keep me from reading this? Or is it because know that the Games are over, thanks to Mrs. Katniss Mellark, she doesn't want to revisit the past by answering the questions that I would have about my sister or the Hunger Games?
I realized that I was going to have to find out myself as usual. Mom would never approve of me going behind her back on such a sensitive matter, especially when it involved Millie.
I shivered. The hairs on the back of my neck pricked up, causing me to inwardly gasp. I felt a rush of cold wind as the revolving window suddenly opened, making me jump. I scrambled to shut the open window afraid that someone, will it be one of my neighbors or a foreigner, see the light on a report me to my mother. Her disappointment of not one, but two things caused me react as quickly as I could. I shut the window, pulling the blinds taughtly shut. After a minute or two passed, I peeked out of the window, franticly searching for any souls awake and outside at this time of the night. Gladly, there were none, so I slumped down in my corner collecting my thoughts. Breathing in deeply, I picked up the diary and opened to the first page, opening my eyes to a whole other world.
