Disclaimers: I do not own the Hunger Games. However, I do wish that I have the writing skills of Suzanne Collins :P
Chapter 1
The weight of the rabbits and wild turkeys in my leather game bag is balanced on my shoulder. I can feel the steady rhythm of thump, thump, thump against my leg as I walk with today's haul back towards town.
The sky is dimming, the last few vivid oranges streaks of sunset disappearing behind the ragged outline of the dense forest. A fine autumn breeze settled in; it chilled my arms underneath my thin cotton sleeves. I picked up my pace, hoping that moving a bit faster will help my shivering body warm up.
Men from the coal mines were filing home after a tedious day at work; their clothes had a thin layer of black dust. Shops that lined the perimeter of town square were closing up for the night. Everything in district twelve is back to normalcy. After the fall of the capital five years ago, my home district was detoxicated and rebuilt; people that were killed in the blast were buried; families began to settle again. We stilled mined coal, but district twelve has also taken on producing medicine for Panem. Poverty was now to a minimum, and most people had comfortable and safe homes to raise a family. Peacekeepers and the Games are now a thing of the past, a mistake in history that should never be repeated again.
I passed by the Hob, still busy with traders trying to get a good deal on vegetables or clothes. The Hob was one of those habits that no one could abandon. Although most were able to afford butcher meat and grocery, some still preferred to trade at the market. A new warehouse was built after the reconstruction of district twelve; after some time, the energetic vibe returned to the exchange market.
Entering the warehouse, I make an effort of hit most of the businesses and distributed a good portion of my game and veggies. I kept a squirrel and two rabbits for stew as dinner tonight. The thought of my mother's mouthwatering rabbit stew made my empty stomach growl. I paid extra attention of Greasy Sae and made sure she was doing ok; after all, she was the one who took care of me the first few months when I returned from district thirteen. I slipped a ball of yarn to her granddaughter, who held on to the fuzzy string happily.
I left the busy market and headed towards the town square. The butcher shop and candy store were already closed. Across the street, the small clothing boutiques were also dark. My mother's apothecary was one of the few that were still open; when I walked past, she waved and smiled at me. I returned the gesture and signaled that I will be home soon.
I crossed the paved square to the far left corner. A small bakery nestled in the corner. Cakes and cookies were displayed through a glass window.
I pushed opened the door and was greeted by the tantalizing aroma of bread. A large man loomed over the counter, sweeping crumbs off of the smooth counter.
"Hi." I attempted to make conversation.
He looked up at me and blinked. The baker wasn't much of a talker, but after an awkward moment of silence, he offered me a small nod.
I carefully placed my game bag on the counter and pulled out a squirrel. I handed the small creature to the baker, who accepted the meat happily. He came back with two loaves of warm bread, wrapped in a delicate white tissue paper.
I stashed the bread into my bag. I did not have to hurry to leave in fear of his stingy wife; she did not survive the blast that destroyed district twelve, along with nearly three-quarters of the population.
"Thanks."
I looked up at him and gave him a sincere smile. A closer look at the middle-aged man showed that creases are forming in the corners of his eyes, his gray eyes glassy and tired. Years of working the monotonous life indoors had worn him out.
I heard the jingle of the bells on the door whenever someone enters. I snapped out of my reverie and turned around to see who had arrived.
My mouth opened in surprise as a medium build, blond-haired boy with icy blue eyes walked in.
Peeta Mellark stood in front of me, looking like it was no big deal that he strolled into the bakery.
I never believed in miracles until now. The guy that was in front of me was definitely not a part of my imagination, because the baker stood there in shock, equally surprised.
He was supposed to be dead.
I was unable to move due to the sudden appearance of the person that disappeared five years ago. The disappearance that broke my heart, which caused me months of distress. I spent most of my time alone in the woods, trying to forget.
"Hi, dad. Hi, Katniss."
Peeta stood there, looking around the shop with his hands shoved in his trouser pockets.
I took a cautious step forward, afraid that this was part of my hallucinations. Each step brought me closer to the person in front of me, who remained in the same spot, a smile forming on his face.
When I was only inches away from him, I threw my arms around his neck. I felt his arms reciprocal the act, slipping around my waist and wrapping me in a friendly hug. He gave my back a few pats and let go of me. Nothing more, nothing less.
I let go of him, stepping aside to allow his father embrace his son. They exchanged a few word, then the baker left, sensing that I wanted to talk to Peeta alone.
We were then planted in a heavy silence.
"It's good to see you." I finally said.
Peeta slowly broke into a grin. "How are you, Katniss? I haven't seen you in a while. It's been quite a few months."
I frowned, but quickly recovered.
"I'm…good."
He smiled.
"What happened?" I asked. "Where were you for all this time?"
"Well, I was at the capital, giving speeches and planning agenda for electing a new president. It was honestly quite a pain and rather boring. I'm glad to be back."
I studied his face. His skin was smooth, free of scars and blemishes. His complexion looked healthy, his cheeks glowed a warm tint of pink. Blonde hair was tousled and his eyes stared at me in curious way. He was dressed in a simple black t-shirt and jeans.
"I'm glad you're back," I finally said quietly.
I placed my hand on his cheek. He suddenly stiffened and flinched. I immediately snapped my arm back and looked away.
We fell back into a pregnant silence.
Finally, I cleared my throat and looked at the floor.
"Peeta, it's getting late. I'll be going."
I headed for the door, avoiding his gaze.
I felt a strong hand stop me before I was able to step outside. I slowly glanced up to see Peeta looking at me.
His touch made my skin tingle. A feeling that only he could bring to me.
"I guess I'll see you around, then."
He dropped his hand from my shoulder. Disappointment swelled inside of me.
I turned around and walked out without looking back.
Once outside, I gingerly pulled out my phone and dialed a number.
He picked up on the fourth ring.
"Hello?" The voice snapped impatiently from the other end.
"Peeta's back."
"Sweetheart, I hate to burst your bubble, but that boy's dead."
"I saw him. It was really him."
"Look—"
"No! Listen to me! Haymitch, he's back. He's not dead."
The end when silent for a minute.
"He said that he was only gone for a few months. It's been five years."
"What—"
"He acted like there was nothing wrong. He..."
"...He doesn't remember."
My vision began to blur as moisture welled up in my eyes. I gnawed on my bottom lip.
"Maybe it's better that way," was the reply.
"You're right."
I felt my heart quiver, a terrible loneliness that dawned upon me when I accepted the news.
Against my will, the tears fell.
"When do you think people die? When they are shot through the heart by the bullet of a pistol? No. When they are ravaged by an incurable disease? No. When they drink a soup made from a poisonous mushroom!? No! It's when… they are forgotten."
-Eiichiro Oda
I have never written a Hunger Games Fanfic-so this is my first try. I was lost in the 39 Clues fandom, and only recently I pulled myself out of the pit and decided to read other fanfiction. Haha. I hope that was OK. I cringed when I read this over. I'm not so sure how I feel about this, but I do hope that you enjoyed it.
I want to get to know you, so here are some questions:
1. What did you think of the Catching Fire movie? (I liked Catching Fire a lot more than the Hunger Games, which was disappointing compared to the book.)
2. Where are you from? (I live in the United States, but I am from Canada.)
3. If you had to give up something you love, what would it be? (I would painfully give up sushi.)
4. Favorite band or artist? (I LOVE Lana del Rey-she's my idol.)
Please review and tell me what you think!
-M