Hello everyone. Anyone who was reading 'Its in the Lyrics' Sorry for the abrupt deletion of that story. But I was being threatened that it might be removed if the songs in the fiction were not removed and I think we all well know the songs were crucial to the story line therefore removing them would have made the story make no sense, so I saw no point in continuing the story. Anyways, I got sucked into the Hunger Games fandom because of a friend who wanted to watch the movie, and I decided better read the books before I see the movie but the books were enough to turn me into a bloody fangirl.

And so here we are people. With my New Fanfic. Fueled by my new obsession.

I own absolutely nothing but the Story I am telling. The Characters and Original plot line belong to Suzanne Collins.

This story will be told between 1st person pov and 3rd person pov.

Enjoy.

xoxoxoxox Prologue oxoxoxoxox

I can clearly remember when the nightmares began. It had been the day my father died, a day I'm sure neither I, nor anyone else in the whole of the world will ever forget. My father had moved us from the small little quiet town of Panem, in the State of Virginia to the hustle and bustle of the city life of the grand New York City. We had moved there a month after I had turned ten in June.

I remember loving the idea of leaving Panem, and its gossipy town's people behind. Not many people lived in Panem so everyone was in everybody's business. Word got around pretty fast in Panem and when my father who had been a firefighter was transferred to the City of New York in April of 2000 everyone who was anyone knew, that Alder Everdeen would be leaving.

My father was known for his singing, though he never truly pursued it as a profession. His voice; however, was still the talk of the town's people years later. They talked about the first time he stood up on stage during a show and tell, my father had been fourteen years old; he had been in middle school. His voice had silenced everyone, and taken their breathes away. In my mother's case it had stolen her heart.

His transfer was all anyone could talk about the weeks leading up to our departure. They talked about how a great man would be leaving them and how greatly he would be missed. My mother of course, Iris Everdeen would also be missed. A fine beauty she had been in her day, still beautiful of course in her older age. She was a nurse, always working to save others at Panem Memorial. My parents it seemed were in the business of helping people and I guess in a way it was in their nature.

My father was good at weaving his way through the burning buildings and rescuing others from the stuffy inferno. My mother was good with her hands, healing and fixing people who came into the hospital for all sorts of things. I loved them both very much, the two of them were a sight to be envied and I couldn't have been more proud of them.

I remember when we left Panem; a crowd had formed around our house and seen us off, through the small town as we drove off others waved their goodbyes, shouting their farewells to our open windows. I still remember the warm spring breeze the came in from the car windows.

My father had decided the best way to get to our new destination was to drive all the way there. Have some fun, take a journey. If we had driven none stop it would have taken about seven and a half hours to get to New York. But my father was also an adventurer and it took us three days because he just had to stop and admire things along the way.

The first week in New York was hard for me. I couldn't seem to make friends or adjust to the fast life of the city, and for some reason I missed the quiet feel of Panem. I actually missed the way women would hustle over to their neighbors telling each other who did what and what was going on. Everyone clearly informed about everyone's private affairs. I used to hate it, but for some reason that first week in New York I really missed it.

My father seemed to have felt sorry for me because one night after work he came home with a small four week old puppy in his hand. The dog was a blonde furry little Cairn terrier. He placed her on my lap as I had been sitting by the window that looked out to the city. From the view, though they were somewhat small I could see the two towers lit up at night.

"Here's a friend Katniss" he had told me as he placed the warm fuss ball on my lap. It had startled me as it stared at me with its beautiful blue eyes.

"What do I call her?" I asked. I didn't usually get along with animals, I remembered the old cat that used to hang around our place back in Panem, my father had named the ugly looking creature buttercup and it was evident from the very start that neither I nor buttercup would ever get along. However this small little dog took one look at me and by god I was a goner. I fell in complete love with the small animal and that little dog, well she fell right back in love with me.

"How about…Primrose?" he asked, I looked at my dad with a smile. He had a thing about flowers that man did. "We can call her Prim for short." He reached over and caressed Prim's head gently.

"I like it…"

"Primrose it is then." He had chuckled, my mother who had been watching from the kitchen smiled. That had been June 8th of 2000. We spent a whole Year in New York and in May 8th of 2001 I celebrated my eleventh birthday with my mother, father, and a few friends I had made in school and Prim, who coincidently turned a year old in human years on that very same day.

It had been a wonderful birthday, and I had practically forgotten all about my life in Panem in that short year. New York was a whole different taste; I decided this was definitely the Capitol of the world because you could see so many different people from so many different places there. If you wanted a grand luxurious place to be, New York was the place to see. I could already picture my life there in New York.

I pictured myself growing up, going to college, getting a job and getting married. Yeah I saw my whole life in that exciting city, made me giddy thinking about what college I would attend and what I'd want to be when I grew older. To me New York was dazzling, and beautiful I could never imagine not living in the city, and I definitely could never imagine what my life could ever be if I still lived in Panem. I really believed New York was a wonderful place…I don't think that anymore.

On the day that my father died, I had woken up late for school. My father had left for work at around seven as he usually did and I'm sure my mother was dead asleep as she had come home late from working an emergency the night before. I would start school at nine, but I woke up at eight forty that morning and I was just too lazy to get dressed and run my pretty little butt to school.

I figured I'll stay in. Picked up the phone and called my father and told him I wouldn't be going to school today. He said something about punishing me for my crime later that night which meant he'd attack me with a whole lot of trivia questions I would not be prepared for, but he still laughed and told me to take it easy and try not to wake my mother, he said he loved me and hung up.

That had been at around eight forty three, I remember because I looked at the clock. I took my time walking to the kitchen and putting the cordless phone on the charger, poured myself a glass of milk. By the time I made my way to the living room to open the curtains and look out the window towards the city it was eight forty five.

Prim had made her way to where I was, lazily lying by my feet as I stared out the window that morning. For a full minute everything was normal, peaceful even. Life in the city was continuing as it would on any ordinary day. I brought the glass of milk to my lips in seconds a very ordinary day turned into a catastrophic one.

I watched with horror from my place at the window, where the Two Towers were small but still very visible as something crashed into the tower and exploded fire into life. The glass fell from my hands and shattered on the ground as I registered what had happened and I had realized that an airplane had crashed into the North Tower. I was paralyzed for a moment before I rushed into my parent's room and woke my mother.

I pulled her out of bed frantically, dragged her into the living room and pointed out the window. It was around eight fifty then, I remember because I looked at the clock in my mother's room when I pulled her awake. It took seconds for my mother to register that the blaze she could see from the distance belonged to one of the Two Towers. Minutes passed and all we could do was stare in shock and horror at what had happened; of course I was more horrified having seen the collision of the plane.

We weren't standing there for too before my mother turned on the News and tried to get a handle of what was going on. I couldn't tear my eyes from the building though. Reports filled our apartment as they confirmed that a plane had indeed crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade center. Mid report however, the second wave of shock hit the nation as another plane crashed mercilessly into the South Tower.

I remember my mother cried out in shock, her hand clasped over her mouth. I had been starring at the Towers when the second plane hit, watched it live for the second time as it made a beeline for the second Tower and when I turned my head to the television and they replayed it what had just happened it was like reliving what I had just lived a second ago but with more clarity, more accuracy and fear filled me to the bone.

My father called at nine fifteen that morning. He told my mother he was being dispatched to the towers to help. My mother begged him not too but he said he had to go. It was his job. He told my mother he loved her. Told her it would be alright, that he'd be home that night for dinner….My father never came home that night.

I watched the towers from my window in the living room; my mother watched them from the screen of the television. I was shaking the whole time I stood there, unable to move, unable to think. Just watched the towers burn, from the television I could hear the reports but I knew if I opened that window I would probably be able to hear the screams of the people from all the way over here. Fifty nine minute after the South Tower was hit; it floundered and collapsed, twenty nine minutes later the North Tower followed.

Inside me I knew when that first tower fell my life would never be the same, I knew, I just knew that my father had probably been in one of those towers, trying to save someone's life and in the process he had lost his own. I knew it, because I began to shake, I knew it when my mother cried out and that day would forever be a day of infamy. That was the very first night the nightmares had begun.

The very first time I had dreamt with burning trees and bloody bodies. The first night I dreamt with the face of a boy I never knew who I tried to keep alive. When I watched the body of a little girl die in my arms, when I cried out as an explosion killed a beautiful girl with blue eyes and blonde hair.

On September 11 2001 I had lost my father and on that day for the very first time in a wicked vivid and realistic dream I heard a man shout into an Arena.

'Let the 74th Hunger Games Begin.'

xoxoxoxoxo

Confused, you should be! Ha! This chapter was short but do stay tune to figure out what it all means, because I know that ending has left you a little bit confused.

Please review and tell me what you think, not much at the moment I know but I have big things planned, big things. Not a long story I hope it won't pass Ten chapters but do try and enjoy the ride as it comes.

ButaTokki.