Chapter One

Some in the Seam say that their life is hard, and I do agree with them in some ways. For example no one deserves to starve to death, but at least they have each other. At least they have maybe a mother or father to hug in the morning and kiss at night. At least they maybe have a brother or sister to tell jokes with and play together. Even though they may be starving, their unconditional love will never run out for them. It's already run out for me. I live alone and probably die alone to, an old woman in her rundown home. But for now I need only try and escape the Hunger Games, where anyone from the age of twelve right up to the age of eighteen, lives in fear of having their name picked out like a piglet for slaughter in the Reaping.

I have five more years left of this torture, which if any of you can figure out means I'm just thirteen years old. This year is the 77th Annual Hunger Games. I know what you're all thinking, why are there more games? Surely the rebellion succeeded? Well my friend, I'm sad to say only days after Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark 'won' the Rebellion against the Capitol, were they killed by an old enemy. Enobaria, well of course everyone forgot about her in the midst of the celebrations, but having summoned up an army of Peacekeepers she was more than ready. There was a brutal massacre; some of the only survivors I know of were Beetee from District 3, Annie Cresta from District 8, Effie Trinket the escort for District 12 and Haymitch Abernathy now the only surviving victor from my District.

After Enobaria won the massacre, the games were reinstated. The Arenas built once more and everyone was back into the turmoil that they had hoped to escape. Last year a boy of 18 called Tanker, from District 2, won the Games. He used a huge spiked mace to gore and disembowel his victims, even killed his own District Partner when it came down to the Final Three. Of course both our Tributes were killed in the Bloodbath at the Cornucopia, but I still watched the Games in the Hob with Greasy Sae and Ripper.

They're possibly the closest people of have when friends and family are thought of. As for District 13, Enobaria- now the new President of the Capitol- ordered thousands of bombs to be escorted underground without them knowing. When the bombs set off it was cheerio and a little goodbye wave to District 13. Of course, after District 12 was destroyed after the 75th Hunger Games, it was swiftly rebuilt after Enobaria's massacre. The Hob was back in business, again found in a new mine shaft. However, our Peacekeepers still don't seem to mind this and after around a few weeks the electrical fence surrounding the woods broke, and the Peacekeepers turned a blind eye at this as well.

Though I didn't, for every day of my lonely life is spent there. I hunt and fish and gather plants and herbs to eat. Then I go trade what I can at the Hob, which is probably why I have not yet died of starvation like many others in the Seam. But there's a price to my life of solitude, I have no knowledge of who my parents are or were. All I remember was spending the first nine years of my life at the Community Home, which was hell in itself. Things were stolen if you didn't know where to hide them, brutal kids and adults would beat you up if you didn't know how to fight, your food was eaten up by the greedy ones if you didn't know how to scoff it down quick and worst of all the carers didn't pay any attention to you if you were scared. Although I managed to escape, late at night when most were asleep I gathered my small bundle of clothes and possessions, stole some food from the kitchen and climbed over the high walls that surrounded the Building.

Greasy Sae found me a small house in the Seam, which is where I come from anyway. My long curly brown hair and olive skin will tell you this. However my eyes are far different, they're like big dark sapphires shining in the sky, however my height certainly doesn't reach the sky as I am not very tall and even the boys aged eleven can tower over me. I still go to school like most of the kids in the District, but no one pays attention to me apart from the teachers. No one shouts my name in the playground, or talks willingly to me at lunch. Yes I have got into many fights with boys and girls, but this is soon forgotten. However, they all know not to mess with me. They know that if you mess with Trixhie whatever her name is you'll get it big time. But the thing is I don't like being an orphan, let alone living alone. I hate it, though the family next door make sure I have enough food to keep me going, and I make sure they have enough food to keep themselves going.

They would take me in, but they already have six kids of their own and wouldn't be able to fit me into their tiny hovel like house. However this is far better than the community home, for the family are kind and caring, the only people who really love me. I awake far earlier than I should do, mostly because it's Reaping Day. Annabetha- the family's oldest daughter at 15- has agreed to lend me one of old Reaping dresses this year, otherwise I would have to wear my green shirt and blue jeans like last year. I wipe my long brown hair off my face and stand up rather slowly, splash my face with some water and dress in brown trousers, a black top, burgundy jacket and brown hunting boots.

After this I separate my hair into two halves then plait them and wind them into two buns either side of my head. Next I pull the sheet off the mattress and remake my now messy 'bed', then walk out of my small hovel and listen for the quiet but deadly hum at the electric fence. It's off, like it always is so I crawl under and walk past the meadow into the woods. Next I carefully take my splendid hunting/throwing knives from inside a hollow log in the woods, which are wrapped in waterproof plastic wrap like Katniss Everdeen used to do.

If I lived in District 2 people would think me as another Clove, because-although I don't like to boast- knives are my best weapon to date. Annabetha managed to get them for me when she went and traded some of the family's goat cheese at the Hob, and arrived a few hours later with them concealed in a small linen bag. Before I just used to hunt with an old bow and arrows left there by someone, presumably Katniss, however I was far from skilled with them. Anyway, Annabetha gave them to me as a gift for keeping her family fed and now I can feed all of us, most of the time. Hitching my game bag higher onto my shoulder I check my clumsy snares and see some rabbits lolloping around the woods. Taking a knife out of my jacket I closed one eye and aimed for the heart. Bingo.

The rabbit fell down whilst I took out the others and removed the knives from their limp bodies. I wipe the bloody knives on the dewy grass and carefully place the two rabbits into the game bag, and get up then look around for more game. Spotting another group of rabbits I launch myself into a tree and pick them out one by one, remove the knives and place them in the game bag. Walking on I look around then decide to talk out some of Annabetha's cheese. I munch slowly and savour the smooth taste swirling around in my mouth. They have a goat called Prince, which they have owned since Annabetha was around 10 and has kept the family going with fresh cheese, milk and other dairy products.

I shoot another few rabbits and a pheasant, picking edible herbs and plants to give to the Greenhalo's as well as their fair share of game. Afterwards I trade some of it at the Hob, then leave some for myself so I can eat and survive. It's basically a large fight for survival, Hunt or be Hunted, so if you do not look for a way to survive then starvation will hunt you down and kill you. I guess this is what it's like in the Hunger Games, you either kill and fight for your survival or don't try at all and be killed by someone else preferably the Careers. Getting up I wrap my knives in the waterproof wrap and carefully place them in the hollow log. I go to the fence and again listen for the hum, then when I hear nothing slide under and begin the walk to the Hob. Stepping inside the coal dust floor, the Hob is graced with its usual customers.

Me, the Peacekeepers, many men and woman trying to trade things for food, and of course the infamous Mr Haymitch Abernathy all are frequent customers at the Hob. I stride over to Greasy Sae's soup stall and trade my pheasant and a rabbit for a large flask of soup, enough to feed the family maybe. Next I go to Old man Robert's grocery stall, and trade two rabbits and a squirrel for ten tomatoes, two lettuces and some carrots. If the new Baker's wife is at the counter then I should be able to trade the rest of my squirrels (I shot around 5 yesterday and 5 today meaning I have nine squirrels left) for maybe one or two big loaves of bread one for the family and one for me. I have three rabbits left which means two for the family and one rabbit for me, seven of the tomatoes will also go to them and three for me, one lettuce for them and one for me, then most of the carrots and my edible herbs I will give to them.

Haymitch Abernathy is meanwhile handing over some money to Old man Roberts, to buy some carrots, aubergines, avocados, nuts, more carrots, potatoes and a rather large lettuce. 'Ah Haymitch, I see you're off the alcohol,' I said whilst walking over and raising an eyebrow at his large bag of groceries. 'Yeah District 13 really rubbed off on me, but they say that the Head Peacekeeper is stopping Ripper from selling her alcohol, and that she has to sell manky disgusting stuff like grape juice,' he says in a slightly whispered voice. I raise both eyebrows this time and bite my lip,

'So what's all the veg for?' I enquire pointing at his bag and he replies 'Some of it's for me and some for the rest of the Hawthorne's because Hazel has been doing an excellent job of keeping my house clean,' and I nod in obvious approval. 'Well good luck in the Reaping,' he says as I wonder off and I shout him thanks then start to walk into the Square to find the Baker's. Walking in the cheery Baker's wife gives me a wide smile as I walk through the door and put my squirrels on the counter. Without speaking she hands over two huge rolls of crusty white bread, which are still warm, and takes my squirrels into the back room. She then came back out and smiled at me, which usually meant it was time to leave which I did.

Hastily checking my watch I see the clock has striked midday, meaning it's time for me to make the slow walk back to the Seam and drop off the food, then ready myself for this year's Reaping.