My mother called them 'fairy tales'. My father insisted that they were all true, before he died; his father's father passed the stories to him. I loved listening to my father's stories but they made mother nervous. She would beg me not to repeat them; in fear the Peacekeepers would kill us. I would often hear them arguing at night because of the stories and my father would often say "She has a right to know the truth!"

Then my life began to change because of his stories. One morning my father said "Serah, you're not going to school today. I have to tell you a story."

He pulled out an old map and said "This is the United States of America." He sighed. "This is before the war, before California fell into the ocean, even before the ice caps melted." I could see the pain of his face as he reached for a pencil "This is where we are" he circled a funny shaped state and pointed to West Virginia. He started in a whisper and told me the history of the United States. Names that I had never heard before and I listened in earnest. Great men like George Washington who fought for freedom. Abraham Lincoln who fought to make equality a standard and his list went on. I listened intently trying to absorb everything he was telling me. My father unfolded the map further and showed me other countries and gave me a brief history of what he knew. He told the appalling tale of Hitler and the story of communism. My day had been a day of history lessons of the world.

Every day after school he would tell me more. "At some point, America had become the most powerful nation in the world and our leaders abused that power. This caused a war and many countries were destroyed and America was left crumbling after Washington DC was annihilated." I knew what Washington DC was, it was the capital of America. I understood what the story he was telling me. "After the war, the earth warmed because of all the nuclear weapons that had further polluted the air, the ice melted and great cities were swallowed by the ocean. It was a nuclear bomb that hit the San Andreas Fault line that had cracked the earth and made California crumble." He told me about the brilliance on New York, the vibrancies of New Orleans, and the beauty of Miami. He had never seen these cities before but his great, great grandparents had and they had given the stories to be passed down from generations on. My father believed these stories and I wanted to believe them too.

Then one day everything changed. He had a boy with him that was about my age. "Serah, this is James Everdeen. He is the son of one of my friends in the mines and I am going to teach you two how to hunt and how to live." James reached out his hand to me and said "Pleased to meet you". My father took us into the forest and begun our education. Every chance that was available we were learning what the different plants were, what was safe to eat. My father taught us how to make a bow and arrows, he taught us how to kill and clean the meat. "Only kill what you can carry" he told us.

James and I learned to hunt together and we often moved as one. My father would often send us into the woods together and challenge us to bring him 6 squirrels, or a turkey. "Why do you think your father is teaching us these things Serah?" James asked one day as we were hunting. "I don't know. I guess he just wants too." This question would haunt me. Months went by and the winter had arrived, it took me a long time to be able to ask my father this question. He sighed in grief "Serah, I have to leave. I'm going to District 13, I'm going to fight for our freedom and I can't guarantee my return. We have to restore the United States." I started to cry "Don't cry sweetheart. I need you to be brave; I need you to be strong. You have to take care of your mothers and other families are going to depend on you. We don't know what's going to happen. The government may try to starve the people, they may beat people, and they may hurt our families. No matter what happens ,Serah, remember everything I taught you and James." I nodded; I knew I had to be strong for my father. That night a group of men left and I never seen my father again.

That was four years ago and I was eleven then. The war had taken a toll on the families, people were shot by Peacekeepers daily for speaking out on how the people were being starved. James and I hunted everyday but it was not enough. It hurt me to children emaciated. I was glad that I had no siblings. People fought and there was no end in sight. The war had brought many into our village. So many new scarred, faces. Children who had lost their mother because their father chose war, children who had lost everything that were wondering alone in this world because of our "government". It disgusted me. James often talked about joining his father in District 13, I was always able to calm him and point out that our father's left us here for a reason. We needed to take care of these children. My father gave us the skills to do it.

The Peacekeepers pulled us out of our classes and gathered us to the center of town. There were the thousand or so adults already there and the children in our school rushed to find their parents. James and I stood together, our mother's had become distant long ago and there was no need for us to find them. A man in a suit stepped the microphone nervously to gather our attention. "Good day citizens of District 12!" I looked at James and rolled my eyes. I had told him my father's stories over the years and the title of District 12 had become a joke to us. "We, the Capitol of Panem, are please to announce…" he stopped dramatically "The war is over!" The giant screens on either side of him came to life with the symbol of Panem and the awful music. "Behold District 13!"

I grabbed James's hand to steady myself. The picture on the screen showed a smoldering building, as the camera scanned other buildings were on fire and ash was raining down. I held back my tears as many faces turned to look at me. It was well known that my father had led District 12 in the war. I urged my face to become emotionless and I held James's hand tightly afraid if I let go the tears would flow. I would not shame my father by showing weakness.

I heard my mother sobbing loudly and being led away. I couldn't bring myself to look at her. I knew that our lives would be changed forever.