Grandma Sae is calling me, I'm sure of it. Her wheezy voice is unmistakable. I open one eye; the other is still pressed against my sack. 'Mmmm?' I manage to ask her what she wanted without using words that actually appear in the English language.
'Come on you, you're going to help me at the stall today. Young Katniss promised me a wild dog and I have some wee knick-knacks for you to sell,' she says, shaking me roughly. I manage to stand, only just, mind you. I'm still groggy from my sleep. I walk over to the kitchen table where Grandma Sae has laid out some broth for me- carrot and pea, by the looks of things. Wait, carrots? My plant must have grown after all! A strange old man had traded me the seeds one day at the Hob, in exchange for a bowl of soup. He had told me not to expect much, but I planted them in a dirt patch outside our hut nevertheless. Grandma Sae must have watered it when I had lost hope, and here now, in front of me, is carrot and pea soup.
Next to the marvellously orange soup is a pale of water for me to wash my face and hands with. By putting a cautious finger in the water, I discover that Grandma Sae has heated it up slightly so that it is no longer ice cold. There is only one explanation for this morning's generosity; I am clearly going to be working very hard today.
Once I am washed and dressed, I take some time to feed the chickens. We have two: Cluck and Egg. You can tell what an imaginative child I was. My mother, bless her soul, would collect their eggs every morning, until she was bed ridden. My mother had managed to bargain with the birdman up at the Hob; two of his chickens in exchange for a fortnight's supply of soup. He accepted, after much begging on my mother's behalf, and she brought home the chickens that were to be christened Cluck and Egg by yours truly.
My mother was overjoyed at the opportunity of business that these chickens held for us. 'Things are looking up, Cori, just you wait and see.'
That's my name. Cori. It's short for Coriander, which is Grandma Sae's favourite ingredient for her soup, when she can get it. When she can't scavenge any, she jokes about putting me in the soup. 'Aye, you'd make a good soup, m'boy,' she would tease, with an evil glint in her eye. It was rather scary at times, and when I was little I thought she really was going to put me in the soup. Not my full body, but she kept eyeing up the tip of my ear.
As I'm spreading out the last of the feed for the chickens, I notice that Egg hasn't laid any eggs this morning. That's the third time this week. I have a feeling her next egg will be one of her last, and we will have to keep it, so that we can get another chick. Cluck and Egg have been with us for nearly eleven years now, and when my mother bought them they weren't exactly young. Mother is going to be so upset, if she can remember. Sometimes she can't even remember me, but other days are worse. The screaming, the hate-filled threats. We have to try and shush her, in fear if passing Peacekeepers. All the things she shouts are true, but speaking the truth is pretty much illegal here in 12.
I'm making my way over to the Hob now, and I decide to take a longer route, so that I can go through the Merchant's town. I always love going past the grocery stores. If I can't eat the food, I might as well smell it. Sometimes I can convince my body that I've had one of those juicy apples, or a dangerously dark berry. One time the grocer mixed up blueberries with Nightlock berries. It would have been disastrous, had a strange man not come by. He was a coal miner, but also a hunter; he hade traded with Grandma Sae many times. He spotted the berries and informed Mr Frankly, the grocer. Mr Frankly offered him as much fruit and vegetables as he could carry, but he refused politely and asked for a single apple. 'For my daughters,' was all he said, and he went back home to the Seam.
I was seven then, and it wasn't until I was older that I knew who that man was. Mr Everdeen, one of the miners who were in the same mining accident as my father. It was the biggest mine explosion for about 50 years. That was the day that they said even as far as District 10 they could feel the ground shake. It was huge.
I hate thinking about these things, so when I reach the bakery my whole face lights up. They have the most beautiful cakes. I know the boy who decorates them, Peeta, he's in my class at school. We sit next to each other in history. He doesn't talk very much; he only ever looks over at the Everdeen girl, Katniss. He thinks no one knows that he fancies her, but everyone knows, apart from Katniss. She is oblivious to what is going on.
Today, the cakes are decorated for May Day. Brightly coloured ribbons are wrapped all the way around magnificent white cakes with three tiers of amazing sponge. I don't linger for long, as I'm afraid that Mrs Mellark will chase me away, calling me Seam trash as I run. I hurry along to the Hob where Grandma Sae will be waiting for me. When I open the door to the Hob, Grandma Sae rushes over to me. 'Where have you been?' she asks.
'I got distracted, sorry,' I murmur, heading over to the stall. I take a minute to examine what Grandma Sae has collected for me to sell. Some random bits of metal and material, buttons, safety pins. Amongst the clutter I find a bright red ribbon in pristine condition. It's a rare occurrence for something so bight to have made it's way into the Seam. We all wear dark colours, like greys and greens. The brightest thing I have ever seen anyone wear around here is a small pink dress worn by none other than Prim Everdeen. I couldn't help but love her, the pour soul. No one can help but love her.
I pick up the box of goodies and start asking passers by if they're interested. I can tell this is going to be a long day.
Around noon, Katniss walks through the door with her friend Gale. If I didn't know better, I would have said they are cousins, maybe even brother and sister, but I do know otherwise, and they are just friends, although I can tell Gale wants it to be more in the way that he looks at her. I'm not so sure about Katniss, I think she likes things just the way they are.
Between them, as promised, they are holding half a wild dog, which Grandma Sae takes willingly in exchange for some bits and bobs, as well as some thread and a large piece of material. Grandma Sae tells me that she just tells her customers that it's beef in the soup. 'They don't notice the difference,' she winks at me.
Wow, this is my second new fic in two days, I have been so busy! I hope you liked and I will update as soon as possible! Please review, I really want to know what you think!