So, this is my first story. I hope you guys like it. I don't know where it's going to go, exactly, but here's how I had the idea.

When I was reading The Hunger Games, I started to wonder – what were her family and friends thinking at home, watching The Games?

Because this answer was never really supplied in the two books I've read so far, I'm going to try writing it myself. Please review it and let me know if I should continue!

-Flameofthesoul

It was early morning when I awoke that day, and Rory, Posy and Vick were still asleep. I didn't notice that my mother was already awake, filling her role as the Districts laundress, until I had nearly swept out of the door.

"Good morning, Gale." She said cheerfully, smiling at me. Somehow, even now, on the day of the Reaping, she could be happy….or perhaps not. I noted the dark rims to her eyes, her slightly pink face. She'd been crying, nervous, as I was, about what the day would hold.

I kept up the fragile pretense of cheeriness, smiling tightly and hugging my mother, before grabbing my hunting knife, bow and sheath of home-made arrows and heading towards the hole in the electric fence.

It was perfectly fine to climb through it. The Capitol never bothered to spare any electricity for us, probably assuming that we would be too frightened of living alone with wild animals to try to leave the District.

They were right of course. As far as I knew, Katniss and I were the only ones who dared risk our necks in the forest, other than our fathers, who both died in mine explosion years ago.

I saw a fat squirrel skitter across the cobblestones in front of me, and I immediately glanced around.

Nobody was looking.

Good.

I whipped out my knife and tossed it, just in time. The sharp blade bit into his neck, and if you have to die, a slit throat is one of the quickest ways.

I smiled to myself, pleased. This would be payment enough for breakfast if I stopped by the bakery. Such good fortune on such a dreaded day was both surprising and welcome.

I turned, headed towards the stalls and shops, absorbed in thought, until I stopped at the Mellarks'.

I glanced in through the large display window, and seeing Mrs. Mellark behind the register, quickly walked around back, to the door adjoining the kitchen. My sales weren't as good when I dealt with her – if I got anything at all, it was always either burnt or stale. I think it was because I'm from the Seam and she'd lived all her live in the town, disgusted by the poverty we lived in.

I knocked quietly on the door to the bakery, and Mr. Mellark opened it with a broad smile.

"Hello Gale, what do you have for me today?" He asked.

He seemed in cheerful mood. That was good. I could manipulate that if his wife happened to come in.

I pulled the squirrel out of my game bag and held it aloft for inspection.

"Squirrel. It's fresh too, just killed. I'd trade it to you for only a quarter loaf, as long as it's not burnt." I said, gesturing to the stacks of bread dough visible through the oven's glass door.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, turning the meat over, checking for any signs of previous infections or wounds that would render it inedible. To my relief, he found none.

"Alright then, son. I can't pass up a deal as good as that one with a clear conscience, now can I?" He said, taking the squirrel.

Then he turned, and with a look of confidentiality, he said loudly, "Oh my, I just remembered, I still have a loaf here that came out a little lopsided….unfit for selling. Would you throw it out for the pigs when you leave? I don't know if I have the time…."

He pressed a full loaf of warm, perfectly molded bread into my hand. I glanced up at him in astonishment, and he whispered, "This is a sad day for us all, boy, and I'll do what I can to brighten it. Good luck hunting today." And with a somber shake of my hand, he gently pushed me out the door and on my way.

I laughed at my own luck, and raced through the hole in the fence to share the news with Katniss.

I slipped the bread into my game bag, protecting it from leaves and branches as I climbed through the thicket of berry bushes that hide our meeting place from sight.

Katniss arrived only a few moments after I did, and upon seeing me, she smiled. Hers was one of the few smiles I usually returned, and return it I did.

"Hey, Catnip." I said, grinning. Although that wasn't her real name, that was what I called her, because the first time I'd met her, nearly 5 years ago now, she had been so shy in telling me her name that that was what it had sounded like.

"Look what I shot." I held up the bread, one of my arrows stuck in the crust, and Katniss laughed, partially at my joke, and partially in disbelief.

She took the loaf from my hands, plucked the arrow from it as gingerly as she did from an animal, not wanting to damage the bread.

"Mm, still warm," Katniss said, her voice reverent, breathing in the scent. "What did it cost you?"

I casually flipped some hair out my eyes, showing off a little. "Just a squirrel. Think the old man was feeling sentimental this morning. Even wished me luck."

"Well, we all feel a little closer today, don't we?" She said, pulling something from her own bag. "Prim left us a cheese."

I grinned brightly. "Thank you, Prim. We'll have a real feast."

The mixture of my own upbeat statement and the looming shadow of today's events reminded me of someone.

I quickly adopted a Capitol accent, mimicking Effie Trinket, the fake, giggly, Capitol woman who came once a year to read the names at the Reaping.

"I almost forgot!" I cried, "Happy Hunger Games!"

And then, plucking five or six of the tiny blackberries off of the bushes surrounding us, I tossed them up in the air over Katniss's head for her to catch, adding, "And may the odds…." She caught the berries in her mouth and joined in, laughing, "….be ever in your favor!"

I sat down to cut the bread, thinking how I wished these moments could last forever, how Effie Trinket, and President Snow and the Games were all distant threats that cant affect us here, in the woods, just the two of us.

Then it occurred to me. If we stayed here, tried to make this last, we could survive just fine.

We can hunt, climb trees, make fires; Katniss even told me once that there was a lake here.

"We could make it you know." I said, softly.

She turned to me, humor fading quickly from her eyes.

"What?"

"Leave the District. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it."