Ok… This is my kind of" fan fiction". It's basically what it would be like if the rebels hadn't won the rebellion and things had gone back pretty much to "normal". This is my first ever fanfic so here goes…..

I am woken by the deafening siren. I lay there; trying to block it out. I know it will stop in about a minute, but the deafening wail will still ring in my ears for hours. All I want to do is sleep. My bones ache and I am weak from hunger. But I have to drag myself up for another 12 hour day of backbreaking work. I can hear the heavy footsteps of the peacekeepers ensuring everyone is up and out collecting their daily allowance of porridge oats – 1 bowl per person to last the whole day. What we are expected to live on.

I am an orphan. My Parents and Baby brother died in the bombings last year. I now live on the edge of what used to be the seam. In a small canvas tent only big enough for the thin mattress which I call my bed. It is all that the capitol provide along with the daily porridge. Ever since the rebellion it is now our job to help feed and rebuild the capitol. Once a week a train comes and 50 of the strongest men are taken to the capitol to help with the work. Most come back weak, broken and dying. Others haven't returned. Our district is now made up of what was left of districts 10, 11, 12 and 13. I am from district 12; I used to live near Katniss in the Seam and would occasionally play with Primrose.

I throw on my simple clothes – A grubby shirt and grey trousers. I don't own a pair of shoes anymore and my feet are scraped and bruised. As I crawl out of my tent into the blinding daylight I am met by the black and white feet of a peacekeeper. I cover my head expecting a beating but am relieved when I hear the reassuring voice of Crucis; "Get up silly!" He steps back far enough to let me stand up but not far enough that when I do, my face is right next to his. Crucis is actually the same age as me – 14. But his height and maturity helped him to lie about his age and become a peacekeeper of district 12. For a brief moment we gaze at each other before he suddenly realises and steps out of the way. I'm not sure if it was on purpose, but personally I don't mind. Crucis is like me, an orphan. He was originally from the poorer parts of the capitol but became a peacekeeper and moved here after the rebellion. Before now, we have sat and talked for hours about life and wondering what will happen in the future.

He hands me a bag of soft rolls with ham. I take them and tuck them neatly just Inside of my tent. "Well, where's my hug then?" he questions "That's my lunch I just gave you!" I gleefully wrap my arms around him and our cheeks briefly touch. "Where's your voice gone today then El?" he asks playfully.

"Oh, it just popped to the forest!" I joke back. "I'd better go and get my porridge!" I complain. Crucis takes a march style step back, salutes me, turns, and marches off. All the while smiling at me with a cheeky grin.

It's a 10 minute walk to the old square where I only just make it to get my porridge. The un-impressed, old Peacekeeper gives me a withering look before ticking my name of and shoving a tin bowl of cold, lumpy porridge in my direction. I walk forward to the "eating area" where there are simply a few blankets on the floor where we are expected to sit and eat our porridge under the watchful eye of more peacekeepers. Not until we are completely finished, and had our bowls checked and washed are we allowed go and sign in to be given our job for the day. Today, mine is cow milking and lambing. An easy day as far as they go. My name is ticked off and I am given my tools for the day… an old metal pail for the milk and a traditional wooden stool to sit on. I am expected to have Milked 75 pails in 12 hours as well as help with any lambs being born. Nobody gets a lunch break or any type of break for that matter. And, to make matters worse of you are unlucky enough to not have any nice peacekeepers around you will be beaten for not doing your job correctly.

The day goes slowly; by around 2pm I have milked 57 pails and helped with two births. One of the lambs didn't survive and so I, was punished with a vicious beating until I was dragged away by a young man from the original district 10. He helped me to my feet and checked me over for any permanent damage. As he let my hands go however I crumpled to the floor. Struggling to even sit up. He helped prop me onto my stall where a cow was waiting before scuttling away in fear of probably a similar fate.

At 7 O'clock everyone is ordered to stop work. One by one the peacekeepers come round and check that we have worked sufficiently. Luckily I have escaped my second beating of the day as Old Grier from the original district 11 gave me her extra pails of milk, making mine up to 77 pails. I am dismissed, my name signed out before I start the 30 minute limp back to my tent.

Tomorrow is the first day of a 5 day holiday and the beginning of what is being called, "The Punishment" by the people of the district. It's been over a year since the rebellion but, luckily so far the Hunger Games have not made a reappearance. There are rumours as to what our "Punishment" will be. Some say we will have all food supplies cut off. Others say that the capitol will just completely dis own us and cut off all communication, supplies and support from the capitol. However, everything is just mere speculation at the moment as we have no idea what's in store.

It takes me an extra 15 minutes to drag myself back to my tent when I see weary eyed Crucis waiting outside my tent for me. I practically collapse in front of him, rolling onto my back to face the clear, blue and orange sky. I hear the scruff of gravel as he does the same lying next to me. "Bad day?" he asks sympathetically, I make a long, obvious sigh meaning yes and he seems to understand. We lay there together in silence until the sun has almost set. It is me who breaks the silence; "What do you actually do all day?" I ask.

"Wait here for you" he replies sounding serious.

"Well that's nice", I taunt sitting up.

"To be honest I tend to stay off the radar, I keep signing up for patrols of this area and can pretty much do what I want".

"Well it's alright for some!" I complain jokingly as I get to my feet. Crucis does the same brushing me off before himself.

"May I escort you to your humble home?" He asks, imitating a posh voice.

"Why thank you!" I reply in a similar tone. He takes my hand gently in his before stepping forward leading me the two foot walk to the entrance to my tent. He playfully gets down on one knee, brings my hand up to his mouth and pecks it gently. I bow my head to him gracefully before ducking into my tent. I don't hear his footsteps walking away so I quickly stuff one of the bread rolls in my mouth before sticking my head out of the flap like a sideways jack-in-the-box. I am horrified to see his limp, lifeless body slumped on the ground, blood emanating from a gash on his head.

Before I even have time to take in the sight before me the roll sticking out of my mouth is ripped from me forcefully. I don't even have time to look at who did it before I feel the force of a kick to my head. My arms give way and I Break into the dusty ground. Another kick, this time to my side leaves me reeling in pain and struggling to breathe. The last thing I can remember is the cold clang of metal hitting the back of my head before the world is spent spinning into darkness…