Sometimes I walk into my parents' bedroom to see Mother rocking back and forth on the floor. Father is often there, but not always. Today I will turn twelve, which means I would be eligible for the Hunger Games this year if they still existed. Mother knows I'm safe, but she will probably be rocking in her bedroom today.
My parents were both in the Games. Twice. I can't imagine what it was like. The only person who talks to me about the Games and the war that came afterwards is Haymitch, their old mentor. He was in the Games, too. I know his story, how he used the force field against his opponent and the Capitol killed his family, but I don't know about my parents' Games. I guess they'll tell me when they think I'm ready. If they ever tell me.
I live in the old Victor's Village in what used to be District Twelve with my parents and my brother, Rye. Haymitch lives next door. I know that a Victor was someone who won the Hunger Games by killing or outlasting their opponents. My parents and Haymitch are Victors.
My only other living family is Mother's mother. She lives in District Four. She went there after her younger daughter, Primrose, was killed in the war. I feel connected to Prim and Mother by our names, all plants. I once painted a picture of katniss tubers and primrose placed beneath a willow tree. When I showed it to Mother she wrapped me in a hug. She told me to never leave her. I told her I never would.
Father paints pictures and bakes treats. He paints all day and all night sometimes. Most of the painting are of Mother or me or Rye. Or of the Games. But I'm not allowed to see those. Haymitch says painting is how Father copes with all that he has lost.
I know Mother used to go hunting, but she stopped after the war ended. Haymitch says it's because of all the people she has killed. Now, Mother likes to play with me and Rye. My parents tell me I look like Mother when she was little. Rye looks a little like Father when he was young, but not much. I think it would be cool if we both looked like our parents when we grow up. But it would also be kind of creepy.
Sometimes I wonder who I will get married to when I'm older. There isn't any other boys to even date. A couple of other people live in the ruins of District Twelve, but they're all adults. I've never even met another child, except for Rye, of course. I hope all boys aren't as annoying as him.
Once, I found an old picture of Mother's father. They look a lot alike. I asked Father about him, and he said that my grandfather died in an accident when Mother was little. I realized then that tragedy and loss had been part of my parent's lives even before they got chosen for the Games, and their suffering is greater than anything I'd ever experienced.
My favorite thing to do is hunt. Father says it's in my blood. He also tells me that I'm just as good at it as Mother was. Father has tried to teach me how based on what Mother tells him. Mostly, I teach myself. Rye likes to play a game where I pretend to shoot him with an imaginary bow and he dodges the arrows. I tell my parents how much I hate the game because I know people actually used to shoot each other. But I guess there are much worse games to play.