The sun beams in through the crack from the curtain that blocked the window in my bedroom. The warm, soft bed was like Heaven in these cold winters District twelve seemed to get. Wrapped up in the covers I almost forgot it was three-foot deep of snow outside my fount door. Although poking my head out of the covers the icy air hit me like a knife. Even in this large house with its central heating, thick walls and three fire places fully set and lit each and every day during the winter months it still manages to get freezing cold. Back in my old house in the Seam it could get as cold as this, and to think, that I was as cold as I am with the heating up as high as it could in this house made me feel heart wrenching guilt for the people of my District that didn't have the luxury that I have. I pull one arm free of the covers to reach out over to the other side of the large warm bed. Empty. The sheets were as cold as the air around me. He'd been out of bed for a while now. His mind had been separate from his body for months now. Asking him didn't help. We had talked very little in weeks. His life had become taken up with painting again. Something he'd stopped doing years ago. Occasionally in the past he'd indulged himself in painting. But not to the extremes of the present. Each day, locking his self in, what was my mother's bedroom, for hours at a time, only re-emerging for food. When he wasn't painting he was baking. Anything he could. It seemed the worse he appeared the better his cakes became. The more precise the frosting was. The lighter the bread felt to the taste. And when he wasn't doing either of those things he was reading. Books about history usually. The only time we talked recently was when I asked him about the books he seemed so engrossed in. I however, had spent a lot of my time in the woods. I presumed this morning would be no exception. I climbed out of bed. It was so cold I could see my breath like smoke around my face.

I put my bath robe on and went into the bathroom. I ran the hot water for a bath, I sprinkled some bath salts to make the bath and the room around it smell like roses and lavender. Fully appreciating the pointlessness of bathing before hunting but the cold air gave me the excuse I needed; I just needed to heat up. The room filled with smoke as the cold air was hit with warmth. I undress and turn the radio on. I had in the past few weeks grown a fondness to the radio broadcasts. The television was full of propaganda but the radio was still neutral and gave information on both the Districts and the Capitol. I sank into the bath and shut my eyes as I listen to the familiar voice of Yallen Mull a man who talked seemingly none stop on the radio recently. His voice was loud and fast but calming in any kind of troubling manner. He could proclaim the end of the world and you could still enjoy a bath in a relaxed manner. His morning broadcast began as it usually did by welcoming us to his show and updating us with the weather all over the country. He'd then make a joke about somewhere in the country usually the Capitol, nothing too extreme, anything that was classed as too outrageous would have meant he'd not only loose his radio show but probably his life. The jokes about the Capitol were usually amusing today was no expiation. "Good day to you all Panem it's eight in the morning in this record cold day in November. Every District is waking up to deep snow and here in the Capitol the men who work to clean all the snow off the streets can't move it away fast enough." Even though he was based in the Capitol he was neutral to anything that could happen between what remained of the rebels and the people who ran the Capitol. He didn't show favouritism on any side. He was famously quoted saying, "I don't care who runs Panem as long as I can get a cup of coffee and wear my wig I'm a happy man." This is why I enjoyed listening to his broadcasts. "I'd like to take this opportunity to deliver some sad news, I'm sure you're all aware of President Markus Snow's daughter, Leona well she was sadly declared dead today, tragic young death, only in her early twenties, believed to be caught up in a cross fire between rebels and Capitol men. We give our sympathy's to her family including her brothers who of cause will miss their sister terribly." In early twenties is rather young to die indeed. But she was fighting for the Capitol, against us who were fighting for the rights of the people. A young death is tragic but it could not have gone to a better family.

President Markus Snow. The eldest son of Coriolanus Snow. When Snow died five years ago, Paylor took over as President of Panem. She was the best choice. Soon after she had taken control Panem changed. And for the better. No more Hunger Games. Very little starvation. A lot more work throughout the Districts. Some people were given licences to hunt, so it wasn't illegal but if you didn't have the licence there were ramifications, usually a fine or a small prison sentence. I understood why this had to be, the only reason why I supported it was I was the first to get a licence. The Victors kept their houses and their money as she believed we deserved it as reparation to being put in the arena to fight. Haymitch was still in his house next to ours. Hazelle still cleaned it. She brought him food and liquor and talked to him when he was sober enough to hold a conversation with her. He had calmed down with the drinking since the third rebellion had started. When Peeta and I moved into my Victor's house together, the day we got married, he had given his Victors house to Hazelle, Rory, Vick and Posy. Rory, being a seventeen year old boy was obsessed with girls. He was the opposite to his elder brother, my best friend Gale, which all the girls where obsessed with him. Vick loved hunting. I took him out with me, being under eighteen he wasn't eligible for a licence but hunting with me meant he was allowed to hunt. He however still snuck out and hunted on his own; he, like Gale and me, was very talented with a bow. He was very light on his feet. He enjoyed climbing trees to shake birds out of trees that I'd then shoot. He reminded me of Gale when he was fifteen. Posy, she was like her mother. She helped her washing clothes and in Haymitch's house when Hazelle was sure he was sober. She was remarkably down to earth when it came to being a ten year old girl. She didn't care about pretty dresses and making sure her hair was nice. But like many girls in District twelve she'd never been given the chance to have anything like that. For most of us the only time we would have been able to wear a nice dress would be when the Hunger Games, too look presentable to the eyes of the Capitol when Reaping day came around. She never had to do that. Thankfully. There was no chance of that now. Also, thankfully. Gale lived in District 2. He made a good living there. Enough to send more than half his money back to his family, with that money they could all eat well, pay tax, get new clothes if they needed them and have a decent life. A lot of the money he sent went to taxation. The money Haymitch paid Hazelle and Posy helped them out a lot. Money from laundry and whatever money Vick made from hunting they lived off, Gale still was able to support himself in District 2. Gale and I kept in contact but not the same as I'd like. But spending time with Vick was like being with a young Gale.

Last year elections came around changes began in Panem. Paylor was hoping to be re-elected. She was up against Markus Snow. He was a symbol of a mixture between what Panem had become and what it was before. The perfect combination we though. As much as Paylor had done, there was still unrest with the people who wanted the ways Coriolanus to fully return. With Markus, both would be satisfied. That's what Peeta believed anyway. He made no secret that Markus would get his vote. Whereas I kept my vote for Paylor very much to myself. Markus was elected. President of all of Panem. As much as I wanted Paylor to continue as president Markus seemed so different from his father, a middle ground was maybe what Panem wanted and moreover needed.

I remember his speech to the country the day he was announced as president and sworn in. He was insanely tall. And skinny. His physical state reminded me of a willow branch, you were never quite sure how he managed to stay up right, and it was a mystery how he didn't bend over when the wind blew to strongly. He had jet black hair. Cut short at the back and long and quiffered at the front, his hair was perfectly cut, not a hair out-of-place if you measured each hair I'm sure the back would be the same length as all the other hair at the back of his pale head. And the front must have been the same. Each side of his perfectly styled hair was a naturally grey streak. It was then made into a lightning bolt. His face was white. Un-naturally so. His eyes were more un-natural than his skin tone. His eyes were blue. But almost white. It was almost appeared that his eyes were white but had a shining of blue when the light caught them. And they were lined with purple and green glitter in the corners of his eyes. His cheeks were clean-shaven and dusted with lilac powder. He had a small beard on the tip of his chin, died purple and like his hair not a single stray hair. He had thin, painted, green lips lined with purple. He seemed, to whenever he appeared on the television, to wear a variation on a purple three-piece suit. Each time it may have been different shades of purple but still he wore no other colour. He spoke in a booming voice. He looked like the old Capitol ways, the hair, the eyes, the makeup, the flamboyance in dress, but spoke like Paylor did. But allowed the Capitol to return to having money, but kept the wealth and food flowing to the Districts. The power would stay as Paylor had made it. Neutral.

He seemed to be very different to his father. A year in, things have changed. He had returned many of his father's policies. Food was running low, the Capitol was growing in power, it was almost like going back in time, and the only absence was the games. Peeta and I daily worried that he'd appear on the television to announce that they were coming back. Peeta called him evil. A tyrant. Like Caesar, of cause this was lost on me. It was the fact he voted for him that sat badly for him. Now Markus' daughter was now dead, horrific but at the same time he'd been responsible for so much, I felt for his other children losing their sister, as I knew what that felt like, how much it hurts, but for him, I felt nothing. As I sink lower in the bath Yallen's voices still echoed around the bathroom. "As I'm sure you're all aware out there Panem it is the one year mark on the Child Tax, which means if you've paid for the full year you're next payment is halved per child. I'm sure this is good news for you with large families." He says.

"The Child Tax" I think to myself. Hazelle pays it. The amount of money she has to pay per child is apparently unspeakably high. She has to pay it three times. When February comes around, and Rory becomes eighteen, she will only have to pay for Vick and Posy. If you couldn't pay, you were given a month to come up with the money. If you still couldn't have it, they took your child away. It would then be given a new name and adopted by a family in the Capitol and brought up there a lot of the younger children in the communal homes were already taken. But when they had ran out the tax was introduced. It was horrific. I remember the day it was announced. I took my bow and ran into the woods. I remember standing next to a tree hand pressed against the bark. Hair blowing around me, tears streaming down my face. I remember standing there, feeling the cold bark against my hands, the springy soil from under my soft leather boots. I remember the pain when I caught my finger on the bark in the damp tree. It was the skin above the gold band on my left hand. My husband, Peeta, he was baking when the news was given. I wished I'd misheard or that it was all a dream. The crashing of plates in the kitchen made me realise I had heard correctly. Looking at it, it brought me back to reality. The only constant thing I had, Peeta, looking back now this is when things started to change between us. When he became more internal than his usual external self. He knew that now no matter how much he asked, I'd not have children, especially not now. The Capitol is now using children as weapons. Again. This is a step to close to the Hunger Games, what if they did bring them back? My godson, Finnie, he'd be the first to be "randomly" drawn in the reaping. It would be perfect, the son of two Victors, Finnick and Annie, two Victors who were vital to the last rebellion. It'd make good T.V. It was not the money to pay the tax. Victors have such a high salary it wouldn't matter. It's if they decided to bring the games back. My children well, the daughter of the "girl on fire." The son of the Mockingjay. The babies of the star crossed lovers from District 12. Now that would make a good Hunger Games. I'm positive they'd be they'd be drawn. I tried to hunt. Tried to get the day's events off my mind. I couldn't find anything. All I could think about is how things were changing. Could Hazelle afford to pay the tax? I'd do anything to insure those children were not taken away. Gale would hate knowing I'd given them money but if he lost his sister, his two brothers, it'd destroy him. I wouldn't allow that to happen.

As the bath got cooler I climbed out. Got dressed and went down stairs. "Peeta?" I called. No reply. I walk into the living room. There were pictures on the mantel piece above fire place. One of my mother and my father on their wedding day. It was next to the picture of Peeta and me on ours, Peeta and me. Three years married, doesn't seem real, seems to have passed so fast. Pictures of Prim, my younger sister who has unbelievably been dead for five years now, and also a photograph of Peeta's elder brothers also who was sadly dead. I paced the room. Turning the TV of to see if there was any reason to not worry.

"And the death toll of the Capitol's side rises..." The news broadcaster woman says. I shake my head. Our deaths were not reported. "Deaths from District one have been announced, also many people from high birth such as President Snow's third child Leona Snow was declared dead when her chaperone a lieutenant colonel in the Capitol's army radioed in the death to her commanding officer. She herself, Lt Colonel Leah Locket was then declared missing in action presumed dead from an horrific cross fire that most of her troop were killed in also. We wish our deepest sympathies to their whole family." In anger I shut the television off. I see a piece of paper written in Peeta's hand writing on the table. I pick it up and read it.

"Katniss, Today's the day, rebel's numbers have grown and they are all arriving today. Also refugee's from the other Districts all come to 12 today to seek shelter, if you want to come and help out market square is where you'll find me, oh and wrap up warm. Love Peeta." Today. When the rebellion started again there was talk of evacuating the other Districts and putting the refugees in 13 for safety. All the people who could and were willing to fight would stay with us in twelve. Most of the Districts were against Snow's regime and wanted change. Today was the day it started. I put my thick winters coat on and hunting boots. I put thick woollen gloves on and walked out the house locking to door behind me.

"BOO!" Posy yelled at me from Peeta's old house. The snow was up to her hips as she wades through the snow towards me in a thick coat that was once Prim's. I ruffled her dark hair. "Gale's coming home today! We're all going to meet him!" I couldn't help but smile. "Where are you going?" She asks me.

"Going to meet Peeta." I tell her. She smiles up at me as we walk together. "Where are your brothers and your mother?" I ask.

"Rory is already in the market helping Peeta. Vick said he'd meet us all in the market, he went hunting but you know, don't tell anyone." She presses her finger to her lips. "Mothers making sure Haymitch is alright." She tells me skipping though the snow. As we walk into the market town the snow was not as thick as up by the house. It was just about a dusting. There were eight hovercrafts. Each had the number of where they had come from painted on the side the size of myself. District's three to eleven were all on the ground. The warmth from the engines made the air bearable. Peeta was stood, clip board in hand talking to an extremely tall and heavily built man. It appeared that Peeta had already taken a crucial part in the rebellion. He had long thick, black, greasy hair. His olive skin was oily and worn from harsh weather and heavily full of thick scars. His eyes were misty and a light shade of brown. His nose had clearly been broken on several occasions.

"Katniss!" Peeta yelled as we walked towards them both. "Katniss this is Colonel Root, he'll be running the rebellion. Root this is my wife..."

"Katniss Evedeen oh sorry Mellark! Of cause nice to meet you ma'am. Everyone knows who you are." Root said grabbing my hand and shaking it.

"Oh and this Posy Hawthorne, Gale Hawthorne's younger sister."Peeta told him. Root crouched down to Posy's height.

"Hello." He says she hid behind me she looked terrified. "I knew your brother before I was moved to district four. I was his commander. He was a good soldier, good man, and I can tell he is a good brother." She nods. "You're scared of me? Well I am terrifying. But I don't mean to be. But if you think I'm scary you should meet my second in command. She's terrifying." A wind picked up. A hovercraft from District 2 was descending. Posy grabbed my hand with excitement. The hovercraft landed. Many men and women all walked out, the civilians and refugees walked towards a large sign saying "refugees" next to what was the justice building that was now the main command building were the officers of the rebellion would live. And as Peeta and I played such an important role in the last rebellion we will attend meetings but live in our Victors house. Then the soldiers and peacekeepers came out, including Gale. His hair was longer than I have seen it before. He had stubble on his face. His eyes were red and bloodshot his face was stained with tear marks. He'd got a tan from being in the sun of District 2. Even though the snow had been horrific the summer had been so hot his face was still showing the summer's heat. He was still as handsome as ever. His military attire was full of mud and blood stains. His belt dripped with guns. He was more of a grown up than I had ever seen him. He looked up to see his little sister and I smiling. If there is one thing I've missed about Gale, it was his smile.