Chapter one:
Silence. Silence is all I hear as no one speaks. No one hums. No one breathes. Dad, or Haymitch, I should now call him, sits silently and glares blankly at me, trying to read my emotions. I stare straight back at him, smelling his foul alcoholic breath. No one says anything. I momentarily look out the grimy window, and silently say goodbye to my whole life. My district, my 'family,' my friends. My home. A small tear rolls down my cheek as I fog up the window, and write a '1' on it. Going from District 1 to District 12 isn't going to be easy. Let's see. Luxury verses Coal Mining? I don't think so.
Apparently, Haymitch isn't my real father, Effie isn't my real mother. Babette and Jacko aren't my real siblings, and I...knew this all along. Haymitch doesn't look like me one bit. I have a perfect ski slope nose, as mo-…Effie would call it, and Haymitch has a rather rounded nose. Effie has a very round head, and so does Haymitch, which I lack. Babette and Jacko, and Haymitch and Effie have blond hair. I have brown. Babette and Jacko are Effie and Haymitch's fraternal twins, and I am just out of place. My body is skinny and petite, a perfect 'bikini body' as Babette said when Effie took us shopping for swimsuits, while Effie, Haymitch and the twins have plumper bodies. The whole family has the "Capitol Accent," including me, because I was raised on it. Surely, my birth mother won't be too happy with it.
A few days earlier, Haymitch and Effie sat me down and told me that they weren't my real parents, and that my real parents had called and asked to bring me back. Obviously, I already knew they weren't my birth parents, but taking me back? Back to District 12? Back to my birthplace? Giving up my pleasures and luxury for a family I don't even know? Sure, I could live with knowing that Haymitch and Effie weren't my parents, but actually leaving the comfort of my own home to live with my real parents instead? At the moment, I absolutely hated my birth parents. I despised them. I thought of them as despicable, ugly, horrible people for just giving me away like they did. How could they? Why didn't they love me? Well, I really don't know, and I don't really want to find out. I'd rather live in question my whole life then to live and meet my birthparents.
I guess District 12 is a dirty, grimy place, with few pleasures. Haymitch and Effie describe it as an ugly, wretched place, and they wonder why anyone would live there. I guess you could say I ask that too. Moving to District 12 is an absolute nightmare. I picture it as a grotesque, beastly little town, dusty and uninviting. Haymitch said it is a place where there is no running water, let alone hot water, to take daily showers. I thought of the possible smell that could be lingering under my nose in the next few hours. I imagine it to be a repulsive, revolting rotten carcass smell, burning the inside of my nostrils, making me vomit and be sick. I really hope it is not like what Haymitch makes it out to be. But he obviously knows well, because as soon as we pull up, I am disgusted.
The train station is empty, crackled leaves blowing across the mud caked brick. Stepping out in my Legronney Boots, I cringe. "Ew," I say, plucking my feet up and down so they only hit the dry spots. District 1 would never allow anything like this. I look up, my eyebrows knitted together, trying to figure where we are. I recoil at the sight. There are people in rags, carrying buckets of a rotten smelling fluid into run down, surely maggot infested homes. My nostrils burn at the scent of the people walking in front of me, signaling that they haven't showered in at least a week. In the distance, I see a fenced in forest, and catch the sight of the electricity running cleanly through it. I sigh, discontent as Haymitch and Effie and I walk to a gated community.
Haymitch punches in some numbers into the keypad on the left side of the Iron Gate, and an unfamiliar voice says "Mellark Residence." I was surprised to see that it actually worked, because the gate was chipped and cracked, the keypad dirty. "It's Haymitch and Effie," Haymitch says without hesitation. I noticed that he didn't mention my name, and it angered me a bit. The gates creaked open without a reply from the voice. Walking straight in, I noticed a difference in well…everything. The yards were cleanly kept, choice flowers in the beds, bobbing up and down. The houses were completely and utterly white. Plain white, not a speck or spot on them. They must be cleaned at least twice a day to get them this clean. I counted 12 houses as we walked down the road, supposedly to my mother and father's house.
What was I expecting? What was I going to do when they greeted me? Surely, they knew my name already, considering how much Effie and my mother have been talking on the phone. I hope they recognize me. Wait-that's impossible because they've seen me all once in their lifetime. I don't even know their names. All I know about them is that they were victors in the 74th annual Hunger Games, something that isn't around anymore, and that they are the reason for me being in the terrible place. Haymitch looks down at me and says "You ready, kid?" I shake my head no, and he chuckles. "It's okay, they aren't monsters." He replies. "Dear, you have nothing to worry about. They are your parents. It'll be okay," Effie says, butting in. "We have been friends for a long time."
The house that we turn to has the greenest yard in the community, the beds with pink primroses and rue plants hanging in the air, waving at us. The house is painted a cool brown and a light blue, unlike the other white houses. There is a little sign hanging on the door that says 'Home, sweet home.' Is it really? For me, at least? Haymitch, Effie and I walk slowly up to the door. This is it. I will finally meet my parents. My anger has risen higher since we got here, so I stay behind Haymitch. Being 16 and hiding behind your fake father's legs is a little childish, but has to do. I brace myself for my real parents opening the door and a choking hug engulfing me. But it never comes.