Unfortunate Summery: AU, prequel to The Drama of School. Making new friends is the least of Katniss' worries whilst she's mourning the death of her father and mother, caring for her little sister, struggling with her boyfriend's abuse and looking for a job at only the age of 13. However, the popular Victors only seem to want to know her more when they learn her hazardous past and only try even harder to befriend her. Surviving is second-nature to Katniss, but socialising is unmarked territory. How will she cope with the new attention with all the other things she's got on her hands? A/N: Soooo, this is the prequel to my other story, The Drama of School! Im sorry for all of you that have read that before this, it's really awkward and I should have thought it out before. But seeing as my other story was so popular, I thought I should write a prequel to go with it :) Chapter 1: Flashback and a Funeral
Blurry figures dressed in black, holding what I think are umbrellas. It's the typical funeral, rain, shades of grey, sobbing, the dreary voice of the vicar reading something that would be beautiful, but is wasted while we mourn.
The only different thing is there's two coffins. Two dead bodies. Two dead parents. Two orphaned children huddling together in the cold.
Flashbacks run through my confused mind as we sit there, but one sticks out in particular.
"Listen to this Kitten," My dad whispers in a secretive manner in my ear, his dark hair flopping over his slightly creased forehead. He whistles a delightful tune, before the black and white birds either side of me start to repeat in unison. It's a beautiful melody, one I did not know would bring a tear to the eye in later life.
I loved the outings into the woods, was so proud that I was finally learning how to hunt after many years of watching my wonderful dad excel at it. He seemed to work magic every time we entered through that fence that separates the "seam" from the forest.
In my hand I clutched my already slightly worn bow, which was only hand-made by my dad a month ago, but I used it that many times it already looked well-loved. I remember we were on our way to the lake after a successful hunt; we managed to kill a few rabbits and a squirrel. Well, my dad did, I just got my arrows stuck in a tree, but a tree closer than last time. I was learning gradually, and with the amount of practice my dad said I'd be a professional in another month. I'd be better than him, he said, and I knew he couldn't wait until my arrow hit home.
If possible, the lake was even more beautiful than the scenery surrounding it. There's something special, magical even, about it that I can't really place, whether it's because I associate it with him, or because of its undeniable beauty I'm not sure.
We spent the rest of the day splashing in the shallows and racing in the clear water, before gathering strawberries and herbs to sell at the Hob, a small, rundown place but the owner, Sae, will buy anything of you if she can use it. Famous for her soups, she didn't, and still doesn't, care whether the meat is the finest deer or a wild dog, she chucks it in with whatever else, gives it a stir and serves. Each bowl of soup is different to the other, but I was too scared to ask what she puts in it.
That was one the best days of my life. I was 12 then, my birthday the next day, and a week later the accident happened.
You'd wonder why my first kill wasn't the best day of my life. The answer, of course, being that neither of my parents were around to enjoy it.
Okay, that's it for now! Sorry it's so short! If you want me to continue, you MUST review! No support=No updates!