I don't own THG or its characters.

My eyes open up slowly, only to let the sunshine blind them. I remove the bed covers, though thin, they are the only thing that keeps me warm at night. I look up at the top bunker, where my sister, Prim, sleeps soundly. I wonder how she does it, with all the war activity outside. I look across the room and see the Baker's Son wide awake. We had to live in the bakery for a while after our house was blown to bits, and almost nobody in town would take a couple of hungry, tired Seam kids. But the Mellark bakery allowed us in. The boy's two brothers are out at war, and his mother died from cancer not a while back. That was what Mr. Mellark had told me.

We've been here for two days now, and I haven't learned the boy's name. But I know he set it up for my sister and me to live here. Mr. Mellark was a bit reluctant about it, but the boy, he convinced him. Great. Another thing to owe to the Boy with the Bread. I'll never forget that loaf of burnt bread that supplied my family during the beginning of the Dark Days.

My eyes fall to the floor, not making contact with young man's face. I'm not here to socialize. I'm just here to be safe. I feel a bit jealous of him, actually. He still has his father, while Prim and I, our parents are gone. Dead. Prim grieves mother day and night, while I try to move on. My eyes goes up to see that boy, staring at me strangely, only to flit up to the ceiling. Am I really that thin? He opens his mouth to say something, but only lets out a sigh. He's been doing that ever since we moved in. Staring and not talking. Maybe he regrets the idea of letting us live here. It just might be.

"Good morning," I hear Prim groan as she rolls around on the top bed. Even with cracked lips and hollow cheeks she's very pretty. No wonder my parents named her Primrose. She goes down the creaky, wooden ladder and sits beside me. "What's for breakfast?" She asks hoarsely.

"Maybe the usual stale bread," The boy murmurs. I've never heard him speak before. Maybe he's just naturally shy.

"What's your name?" Asks Prim. She can be a bit curious at times, and a person's name is no exception. She even knows the Goat man's name.

"My name?" He asks as if it is forbidden. "Peeta," He chokes out, his eyes on me as he says this. I look down again, fidgeting with my hands. There's a yell from downstairs, inaudible to me but good enough for Peeta. He runs down the stairs and leaves Prim and I alone.

"You should be friends with him," Prim smiles at me. I shake my head. "What if I start to trust him, and then he goes off and tells the community home about the two Seam orphans?"

Prim crosses her arms. "You know he wouldn't,"

He probably would. I was about to say until Peeta comes up back to the upstairs attic, where we live among the old and rusted pots and kettles. He doesn't say a word to us as he sits back down on his bed.

"Is our breakfast stale?" Prim asks with pleading eyes. The boy nods as Prim's shoulders slump. She goes downstairs and I follow suit, smelling the aroma of fresh bread we'll never eat.

Mr. Mellark, he's even less talkative than Peeta. We three sit down at the dinner table, 2/3 of us looking down because we're just that hungry (Answer: Prim and I) and just can't wait for some food to enter our mouths. Once the food is set down, I ignore the thought of it being stale and take in huge bites, ignoring the hardness of it. It's only a loaf, but at least I'm less hungry. However, the sound of my growling stomach goes throughout the room. The baker has gone back to his own quarters, and what if his son's a tattle-tale? Maybe I'll just have to go the rest of the day hungry. Peeta goes into the storage room, probably to bake some bread, but when he comes back, he hides the loaves as best he can, sits down, and slips Prim and I the loaves. He nods before going back upstairs. That boy, not knowing we could last another day. Once it stops raining, I'll go outside and through the fence and hunt. Prim eats her loaf, while I just glare at it like it was evil.

"Are you going to eat yours?" Prim asks as she eats her bread. She turns around in her chair and looks at the stairs. "You should really say thank you to him,"

I shrug, not knowing what to do. I look outside the dirty, cracked window to right of me and see the rain stopping. Most of the war is going on in the Seam anyway, but you can still hear the sounds of the gunshots and bombs. In the end, I eat the bread anyway, my hunger winning out. When I go upstairs to collect my bow and arrow, he lays down on his bed, drawing something in a notebook. I decide to do what Prim told me to do.

"Thanks," I say. He looks up from his book to see me opening the door to leave. The corners of his mouth twitch up, but then go down.

"Y-your welcome," He stutters out, his cheeks flush. I smile a bit too before going downstairs.

I aim the arrow at the still rabbit, licking my lips at the fresh meat. I'd tell Mr. Mellark to cook it. We're in desperate times and he would probably do anything to get some of it in his stomach. My father's hunting jacket, which I have managed to stow away near my lake hideout, hugs my shoulders. The arrow pierces the rabbit's eye. If Prim were here, she would probably cry and try to heal it. I stash it away in my game bag, and move on to the fence. I've gotten a lot of game today. Two rabbits and 4 squirrels. I'm about to get some strawberries until I hear the sound of trees rustling. I turn around and aim my bow. My eyes land on the deer, so young and innocent. He stays there, licking the water at a lake nearby. Before I could even let go of the string, someone kills the deer first. I hear hoots and shouts from nearby. Hunters. I think as I hide behind a tree. The two boys, tall and obviously from the Seam, come out of the shadows to collect the meat.

"We should really be quiet," One says in a hushed tone.

"Why? It's not like Capitol officers are going to come and jump us," Another says.

"Yeah, what about that food you want to eat? It'll easily be scared away," The same one says.

"Oh Gale," The other one replies. "Food can't run,"

"Hey, don't you hear that? It's probably our dinner," Gale answers back. I walk out, and look at the two boys, with snares in their belts and flat bellies. "Oh," One of them says. "It's just a Seam Girl,"

I squint my eyes at the two. "I'm a hunter!"

They both chuckle. "Prove it,"

I turn around and find a squirrel. I shoot it before it could run on its tiny legs. And to make it even more impressive, it got straight through the eye. I turn around and find the two men shrug. "Not bad," Gale says. "Why you don't join our hunting group, we could teach you snares,"

I nod my head in reply, feeling proud.