Chapter 1
Everyone says I am just like my mother. Little do they know, that besides looking like her, we have nothing in common. In fact, I am so much more like my father. I'm compassionate, social and outgoing like my dad. We have similar interests in baking and painting. I even have his eyes. I'm not saying that my mother does not possess these qualities… no wait. That is exactly what I am saying. Which is why I am irritated when people insist that I am still so much like my mother.
Before I go further, I should explain why this is important. I mean, people usually take after their parents; that's kind of how genetics works. But when you're a Mallerk, genetics is like a name tag that reads; "Hello my name is…" My full name is Dahlia Rue Mallerk, daughter of Peeta Mallerk aka Hunger games victor and rebellion leader aka the former mayor of district 12 aka the boy with the bread. My mother is Katniss Mallerk aka Katniss Everdeen aka Hunger games victor aka the Mockingjay. When you're parents are the famed star-crossed lovers who led a rebellion and changed the history of Panem, people tend to notice who you resemble. My little brother, Jonathan takes after my dad. In looks anyway. He seems to be a better combination of my parents. It doesn't matter to him who people say he resembles; he just gives the same generic nod to either.
Having famous parents was never a problem until this year when I entered high school. I'm not the type who shrinks away from attention and people, but I certainly did not want the stares and whispers I get when walking down the hallway either. I even hear them from classmates and friends I grew up with. I am not sure what changed over the summer, but once we started high school, many stayed clear. As if that was not enough, Queen Jane and the rest of her snobby friends have made it their senior year mission to make my freshman year a living hell. This means teasing me, and whoever has the misfortune to be near me at the time. After that high level of social assault my friendship pool has dwindled down to a few acquaintances and my best friend Elle.
Elle and I have been best friends since we were 7, when her family moved from district 2 to 12. They decided they wanted to raise their kids in a quiet, simple place. Her father, Gale Hawthorne was a General and rebellion leader before moving back here. He was also an old friend of my mom. I don't know the whole story. I just know that till this day our parents have found an excuse to avoid each other in intimate affairs. They still try to remain cordial however, for the sake of our friendship and Elle's older brother Asher, who works at the bakery with dad.
Asher Hawthorne. Now he is a mystery all his own. Asher is one of the reasons Elle and I have not hit social ruins. Asher is the typical popular guy in school, cute, good at everything and had the mandatory popular girlfriend, Jane. When Asher walked in on one of Jane's lunch tirades against Elle and I he went beat up a guy and publicly dumped her in the middle of the cafeteria. Everyone was surprised since he is normally very even tempered, but no one was more surprised then me. Asher does not acknowledge Elle or me during school. He occasionally yells her full name, Hazelle in the hallway to tick her off. If he does acknowledge me, he calls me Hazelle's friend. I don't know what changed but I guess he felt obligated to stand up for his sister and her friend. Since then it has been quietly assumed that messing with us means messing with Asher. But, enough about everyone else. This tirade is supposed to be about my mother.
There are other qualities that I do not share with my mother, such as a interest in healing. My grandmother is a healer and has always been supportive of my dream to become a doctor. She lets me shadow her in the clinic when we go to visit her. My father also encourages me and never forgets to say how proud he is of my academic achievement. When I was younger, he would make copies of my straight A report cards and put them on the cooler in the house and in the bakery. Yet despite all of their encouragement and pride, both have strongly suggested I not tell my mother of my career plans. This is a feat I have accomplished until now. What changed? Well each year, our school has a contest called "What would you have done to change the rebellion?" Entry is optional, but winners get to go to the capitol and present their ideas to leaders in their field of interest. Being the child of rebellion leaders, everyone assumed I would make some fantastic battle strategy. However I chose the topic of medical triage. It definitely raised some eyebrows for both its creativity and variance from my family's assumed area of expertise.
Now I am sitting with a piece of paper exclaiming congratulations at the top, while my father drones on about how I should ease my mother into the idea of me going to the capitol and my interest in healing. The more he talks, the more I get annoyed that I have to care about my mother's feelings towards what I want to do with my life. By the time I hear her open the door, I have made up my mind about how I want to break the news. She calls up the stairs to my brother Jonathan to move his toys blocking the door. Then she continues to the kitchen where we wait for her. As she enters, she gives a smile only saved for my father. She gives me a quick peck on the cheek and leans in to give my father a quick kiss on the lips. At the last moment he pulls her down into him and they end up kissing until I clear my throat to remind them that I am still there. They quickly pull apart, slightly embarrassed at getting carried away. I can only shake my head at my parents PDA. Sometimes it's cute to see they still love each other. Other times like now I find it annoying…and a little gross.
I assume dad is going to give her a few compliments or promise to make her favorite desert before we talk. Instead he jumps right in.
"Katniss, sweetheart. Dahlia has got some really good news for you." My mother raises her eyebrows and looks to me for answers to this statement. 'Gee thanks Dad.' I think as the attention switches to me. I nod in agreement and feign being timid by quickly looking down and playing with my paper. I am still careful to keep the bold congratulations visible for her to see. Predictably she gets a little closer and asks;
"I see the fancy letter of congratulations. What's it for?" I fiddle around a little more before finally answering.
"There is this school wide competition, that I applied for and was chosen as a winner in my category." She's trying to wait patiently for me to finish but she has a look that says get to the point. "Well anyway winning is a very prestigious accomplishment and I was the only freshman to win it this year. In fact I am the first in the last 5 years." Instead of being impressed like I had hoped, suspicion begins to cloud her features. She asks me, in her interrogation voice.
"How did you win this competition?" Once the interrogation voice comes on, I know it's way more frustrating for me to avoid questions then for her to ask them. I decide to change tactics; Quick and dirty.
"I won it for writing about what I would have done to change the rebellion." As I see my mother about to protest. I make sure she knows the twist. "I think what stood out in my essay is that I didn't choose a fancy battle strategy like most of the kids." Her mouth closed and she was once again curious. I reminded myself of my quick and dirty strategy before I let the words pour out. "I wrote it on medical triage. It's a subject that I have been interested in for a long time. I want to be a doctor and I know that getting to present in front of the leaders in medicine is a great way to make myself stand out." She was forming the words no before she realized that she technically had nothing to disapprove yet.
"Where would this presentation take place?" She asked. I begrudgingly answered.
"The capitol. It's a whole trip to get to see it." Before I finished mom was already shaking her head.
"No Dahlia. No you are not going to the capitol. It's still dangerous. Maybe when you're older." I felt tears of frustration starting to well up as my mother shot down my request. Dad quickly spoke up for me.
"Come on Katniss. She has been a stellar student. Top in her class every year and this could help her reach her dream." She gives an empty laugh while giving dad a spiteful look.
"Why am I not surprised you knew about her wanting to be a doctor and taking this trip to the capitol way before you thought to tell me." Perhaps it was her attacking dad, or the disdainful way she said doctor that pushed me to shout back at her. Whatever it was, the calm argument quickly escalated into a shouting match. I yelled over my mother's shouts to reply;
"I told him because he actually cares about me being happy and he is proud of the fact I am working hard to pursue my dream. Grandma is proud of me too and she actually helps me with my skills. She even goes over the healing plants in the book with me. You know the one you were supposed to pass down to me and John but hide in the back of the closet." I could see the frustration in mom's face as her interjections did nothing to quell my tirade.
"Dahlia Rue! You will lower your voice when you talk to me. I said no!" I no longer cared about getting in trouble or being grounded. I just wanted say in my life for once. I spat back.
"I don't need your permission you know. I only need one parent to sign my slip." Finally she pounds her fists down on the table and yells;
"Damn it Prim. I said you are not going!"