May 9th, 2334 was a good day for Rosie Mellark.

She got back from the woods at dawn. She walked by the street vendors as they yawned and called out to each other, trying to get a better price on this and that. The sky was getting lighter, but the sun was not yet visible.

Rosie weaved in and out of the crowds, Jay following dutifully behind her, nipping at her heels. He was a small dog, but he was quick in the woods. He could catch and pin down any rabbit Rosie wanted to take, gutting it and mutilating in seconds with her knives. She was brilliant with her knifes, but her skill had always scared her parents. She didn't know why.

Today, besides the obvious reason, was a good day for her. In the woods, she had caught two rabbits, large and sleek. She heard stories about how her family used to have to sell game for food, but now Rosie hunted because she liked to eat rabbit stew. Finn loves it too. Although, at nine years old, her little brother would eat just about anything.

So, with her pockets full of food on that clear, bright day, Rosie Mellark was cheerful that morning, as she headed back to her home, in a neighborhood called once called Victor's Village. She thought of skinning the rabbits with Finn that morning, and her father making stew that night. He was one of the best cooks in District 12. It would he a lovely treat, especially for her special day.

However, when Rosie opened the door, her good mood and happy plans evaporated.

All the lights were off in the house, and her father and brother were nowhere to be seen.

When Rosie was younger, electricity was a bit touch and go, but it had been mostly constant for the past few years. So the entire place dark, not to mention Peeta and Finn's evacuation from the house, meant only one thing.

Rosie dropped her rabbits on the floor in exasperation. Jay muzzled at them and started to bite one of the ears. Rosie nudged him away and then reluctantly trudged up the stairs.

"Mom?" She called. "Mom, I know you're here."

She clattered through the hallway, banging on her and Finny's bedroom door, and then her parents. Finally, she stopped in the threshold of the bathroom.

Her mother was sitting with her back leaning up against the toilet, her eyes puffy and red. Her dark hair was in a rat's nest. She didn't even turn when Rosie came in.

"Mom, where are Dad and Finny?"

Katniss didn't answer, she just continued to look at the porcelain tub across from where she sat. Rosie crouched down and scooted closer to her mother.

"Mom, you can't do this today. This is the fifth time this week." The irritation in Rosie's voice was palpable. She reached out and took her mother's hand, but it just lay limply in her own. Rosie started to feel the anger boil inside her.

"If you don't get out of this, I'll get Mr. Abernathy to come over and scream." Rosie said, her own voice rising a little on the last word. Haymitch was an old drunk of a man, but the few times he'd caught Katniss in one of her funks he'd made a scene until she snapped out of it.

Katniss sighed, gingerly pulling her hand away from her daughter's.

"Rosie, just go away. Go to the market with Finny and your dad."

Rosie remained where she was. For a long moment, she stared at her mother, who stared at the wall, silent.

Rosie was almost a mirror image of her mom. They had the same skinny, strong frame, long, dark hair and olive skin. The only difference were her eyes, sparkling and blue like her dad's. Even so, she had been called 'Katniss' on more than one occasion. Mostly by Mr. Abernathy when he was drunk, or people at the market, but once her dad had even let it slip.

"For God's sake, stop being so difficult!" He yelled when Rosie took off to the woods for six hours without telling anyone. Rosie sighed and tossed her knife at the ground next to him. He flinched.

"I don't see what the big deal is. Mom used to do it all the time-"

"It's not the same thing, she had to!"

Rosie stepped forward. "Don't I have to, too? It's not like she DOES anything."

"SHUT UP KATNISS!" He roared.

As soon as he said it, he took a step back. He looked like someone had just slapped him. His eyes were wide, and within them, Rosie saw a look she'd never caught before-Panic.

"Just...just go to your room." Peeta said weakly.

Rosie was rushed back to the present as she looked at the broken woman who sat next to her.

Apparently she was just like her mother. She looked like her, she liked to hunt. She even had a beautiful singing voice, like Katniss. Not that she'd know, she couldn't remember her mother ever singing.

But Rosie didn't want to be like her mother, this stranger before her.

Rosie couldn't be like her mother.

Overcome with a sudden rush of anger, Rosie gripped Katniss' hand more forcefully.

"Mom, snap out of it." She said more loudly. "Mom, look at me!" She yelled. "LOOK AT ME!"

"Mom, look at me!" Katniss knelt before her mothers rocking chair, Mrs. Everdeen staring straight ahead. Seven-year-old Prim sat in the corner of the shack, eyes welling with tears as her sister fell to her knees, sobbing, BEGGING her mother to-

"Look at me!" Rosie screamed. Her eyes were getting angrier by the second.

She had blue eyes.

Just like her father

Just like her grandmother.

It was as if a switch had been flipped inside Katniss. She stood up so abruptly she knocked Rosie from her side onto the floor.

"Oh my God." She whispered. Her voice cracked, weak and small. She turned towards the mirror as Rosie dusted herself off, looking up worriedly at her mother. Katniss stared at her reflection. Only she didn't see herself.

She saw a woman from long ago. Small and blonde, with sad, sad eyes. A woman who let her loss nearly destroy her.

Mom, look at me!

Katniss didn't want to be like her mother.

Katniss couldn't be like her mother.

Katniss turned, slowly, to face her daughter. Rosie was named after her aunt. Not Prim, that would have made Katniss break down everytime she saw her. But Rose. A name distant enough to be safe to say everyday, but close enough to mean something. Forever interwined with the ones that came before her.

It was a special day for Rosie.

That day, a few hours before, Rosie Mellark had just turned thirteen years old.

Katniss Everdeen was not crying that day for her daughter.

She was crying for her sister, who would never see an age older than the way Rosie was now.

But Prim wasn't there.

Rosie was.

Rosie, who was starting to take care of her family, because her Mom couldn't cope with the life she'd been given.

Rosie, who looked like her mother.

But...

Katniss knelt down so she could be at the same level as her daughter.

"You can't grow up...you can't be like me." She said, more to herself than anyone else. Rosie looked at her mother dead on.

"We have a choice, Mom."

A choice.

Katniss took a deep, shuddering breath.

My name is Katniss Everdeen.

I am forty-six years old.

I will not let my daughter become me.

I will not let myself become my mother.

Slowly, Katniss looked into her daughter's eyes.

"Happy Birthday, my daughter." She murmured. Rosie didn't react. Katniss held Rosie's face in her hands.

"I'm...sorry..." She faded off. Looking down. She looked awfully small.

Rosie bit her lip, comtemplating.

She could rebuff her mother's apology, stay angry at her forever for depriving her of a normal life. One where the parents care for the children, not the other way around. She could of turned her back on her forever.

Rosie instead spoke softly.

"I...I caught some rabbits today, in the woods.

I don't know if you know anything about cooking wild animals, but...would you like to help me make dinner?"

There was a moment's hesitation. Katniss felt rather like she was standing on a ledge. She could fall back into a dark trench like her mother had. She could bury herself in pain and shut the world out. She could repeat history.

But Katniss just nodded.

"I would be honored."

Because Katniss had a choice.

So did Rosie.

We all do.