'With every love comes sorrow. With every life come death', the words I told myself every year before the Reaping.
I'll never know how, but my mind had someway of waking me up at the break of dawn every single time. The slight stream of sunlight trickled through the thick material hanging across my window, and the morning birds sang from the nearby trees. I left my tatty, old mattress and slipped on my travel jacket, as per usual, and snuck out my front door. My father had already left to work at the factory and mom was at the bakers, but my siblings were still asleep, and if I woke then, yet again, I would have had to take them with me.
I left my house along the route everyone takes in the 'poor' area, and followed the least used path towards the big gate that led into the station. About 20 metres before the fence, I crawled through my well-hidden tunnel, to emerge in the narrow pathway. Only a handful of people ever knew about my space, and no one but me ever came; but that's the way I like it.
I was five when I found it. I had run away from the house because everyone was crying. It was a really bad time. We had just lost my eldest brother to the Hunger Games, a sick way of entertainment, put together by the Capitol to 'remind' the districts of the 'terrible' war. He had been reaped, and as always, no one volunteered. When Todd, that was his name, entered the games, he stepped of his metal plate too early and was killed in the explosion. Some say it was suicide, because he knew he wouldn't stand a chance against the other tributes, but others say he was drawn to something. I've watched the replays over the years, and every time, I've noticed his eyes locked on something in the distance, and as if he was in a trance, he just stepped off. I don't remember much else of my childhood.
After walking for a solid 3 miles, I caught a glimpse of my own private getaway, a small cave with water trickling down the entrance and pink and yellow flowers, somehow, growing within. I entered, a chill going down my spine as the cold water made contact with my pale, blistery skin.
I was too lost in my thoughts that day to notice the slight change in atmosphere in the dark and damp cave. When I came back to reality, I glanced around the room, and just saw in the deepest shadows a lone figure, watching me. At first I sat there as if I didn't notice, but I couldn't help looking over there. Eventually, I got the guts to say, 'How did you find this place and who the hell are you?' Looking, back it was probably really rude, but it's what I needed to know, and I wanted that information.
It took them a little while to answer from utter shock, but in a deep, but young male voice, the person said 'I'm so sorry. I saw you come in…' he sounded panicked. '… and well, I guess I was quite curious. I wanted to know what was behind here… and you know… I kind of… yeah well.' And as if by magic, his worry disappeared from his eyes and excitement replaced it. 'I'm Crilay by the way. And you are?'
I couldn't help but let out a little laugh. The sudden change in emotion and the way he acted was absolutely hilarious at the time. I managed to compose myself enough to say, 'Finch, but most people call me "Foxy".'