A/N: If you have yet to read this story and you are seeing this author's note, that means you have come across the updated version of my story! Congratulations! I wrote this when I was... I want to say thirteen. I'm fifteen now and I viewed this as far from my best work, so I did a little bit of polishing on it and reposted it. As for people who have read it, welcome back and I suggest you re-read all the chapters because I really, REALLY revised this. The storyline did not change, however, so you won't become confused.
The bright, almost blinding morning light is peeking through the dirt-laced windows of our broken-down Seam house. It hits my eyes painfully, hurling me from my dream land into the land of the living. I toss and turn on the uncomfortable mattress that I have been using since childhood when I notice Prim isn't sleeping peacefully by my side. I look up from my own bed to see her curled up with Mother, looking like a little angel in her unconscious state. She probably had a nightmare last night if she's wrapped up in Mother's arms. Ever since Dad died, we've both been getting nightmares frequently. They usually involve Dad, or seeing the mine shaft being blown up... I shake my head, banishing any bad thoughts. Feeling suddenly heavy with exhaustion, I consider staying in bed for a few more minutes... or a few more hours. It doesn't feel quite so uncomfortable anymore now that I realize how tired I am. Only then do I remember that it's Sunday. I have to meet my best friend, Gale, in the woods today.
We met four, long years ago, when we were both in the woods, desperate for some type of food to feed our family after our father's deaths. His dad died in the same mine accident that claimed the life of mine. Ever since then, we've been the best of friends, hunting together every Sunday until he has to go into the mines next year. I dread the day that he will be forced to risk his life to face what might be the same fate as our fathers faced. As his best friend, I also happen to know that he has a very, very big crush on the mayor's daughter, Madge. I should tell him that the townies would burn him alive if they were to even think of getting together, but I'm not much better than him. That, however, is a story for another time.
My family and I live in the poorer part of District 12 called the Seam. You wouldn't know it by looking at us, though. We all have blonde hair and blue eyes, as opposed to the usual black hair and grey eyes associated with the Seam. Somewhere, my mother has merchant blood flowing in her veins, but I never asked for the story. Despite our odd appearances, we're accepted by the other Seam residents anyway. What I love about living here is that we're all like a big family; we help each other out. It's not an 'every man for himself' system like the merchants have.
My family consists of me, my mother, and my sister, Prim. Mother and I don't get on too well. Well, honestly, we don't get on at all. I don't hate her, but she is far from my favorite person. After Dad died, her mind left her. She was still physically there, but mentally, she was gone to a place where she would not have to face the reality of her husband's death. She was a hollow shell of the person she once was. She was not my mother anymore. I was only eleven, and Prim was only seven. I had to raise Prim as if I was the parent. I hunted illegally in the woods, learned how to sew and patch up our already mostly patchwork clothes, and just did anything to make it look as if we had a good home life. In no way would I let my Prim be put in one of those horrid community homes. I was forced to relinquish my childhood in order to let Prim keep hers. Mother came back eventually and was warmly accepted by Prim, but our relationship was damaged beyond repair, and I really have no desire to try to get it back at this point.
Prim is my favorite person in the world. There's no way someone can't love her to death. She charms everyone she meets and finds a way to worm her way into their heart within barely weeks of knowing them. She's one of the few people on Earth that I'm absolutely sure I love. In many ways, she's more like my daughter than she is my sister. I've been the one raising her for five years. Even with Mother alive, I consider Prim my responsibility.
I'm distracted from my thoughts by Prim stirring near me. She sleepily opens her eyes then settles them on my face. I smile at her warmly, a smile reserved for her.
"Good morning, little duck," I greet her quietly. She giggles and reaches over to hug me.
"Good morning, Peeta. I made some goat cheese yesterday that you can take to Gale." That's my Prim, always thinking of others.
"Thanks, little duck. I'll be home soon, I promise. I love you." I kiss her forehead and walk out of the door with the goat cheese that was on the counter now in my pocket. Swiftly, I jog to the electric fence that's never on and duck under it. I honestly surprised that I'm flexible at all, but years of ducking under a small opening has perfected that, I guess. Quickly, I find my bow and arrows along with my knives in their usual hiding place. Then I do what I usually do on a Sunday. I wait on a rock at my usual meeting spot with Gale. He should be here soon. He's always here only a few moments after I arrive. It's like our minds are in synch sometimes. We don't even need to communicate these things. We just KNOW when to meet.
Gale jumps out into the clearing, holding something behind his back.
"Whatcha got there, Hawthorne?" I ask jokingly, though I can guess. Sometimes we see an animal that we want and we just can't wait to get it, so we don't wait for the other to arrive before nabbing it. He narrows his eyes like he's taking this as a challenge.
"Well, Mellark, I got here before you did to set up some snares. And boy did I strike gold." He holds up two rabbits and a squirrel. I gape at his kill. He really did get some work accomplished before I got here. My competitive side resents this. But I have a feeling that I'll get some today, too. Besides, why not use this opportunity to tease him a little?
"Very good, Gale. I wonder what Madge would say?" I ask innocently. It's a little too innocently, the type of innocent when it's anything but innocent. He blushes, hard, and looks down. Gale never blushes. It's just so not him. It's too... girlish.
I laugh uncontrollably at his embarrassment, suddenly feeling much more amused than I should be. He just scowls at me, turning an even more unnatural shade of pink that makes me choke out laughs even harder.
Between laughs, I tell him, "Prim..gave...us some...goat cheese." I hand some to him, my hands shaking from my amusement.
"Thank you, Prim," he says happily, trying to ignore me catching my breath. We eat in comfortable silence. We never feel the need to talk. Our silences are not awkward and painful. They're peaceful and normal. This is our usual Sunday routine; get some hunting done, take a break then continue hunting until it's time to go home. Gale has two brothers, a sister and his mother to provide for. He has it even worse than I have it. His mother, Hazelle, is what I wish my mother was like. When her husband died, she immediately went back to work, even with Gale's little sister, Posy, on the way. I view her as more of a motherly figure than my own mother. Admitting that is hard, but it's the truth. Hazelle could be there for me when Dad died. Mother could not.
When we're done eating, he looks at me and shakes his head reprovingly.
"What?" I ask, confused at his self-satisfied and smug gaze.
"You tease me for having a crush on Madge, but you have a crush on the baker girl." I look down, refusing to meet his eyes. He knows me all too well.
"No I don't," I lie boldly. There is no way that I'd admit to liking anybody.
"Yes you do," he persists. I snap my head up at the statement.
"What makes you so sure that I do?" I challenge. He smirks.
"You stare at her every time we go into trade at the bakery." I think about it for a moment. Maybe I do look at her from time to time, or maybe a lot, but mostly I'm just amazed by the way she looks. She has jet-black hair, steely gray-eyes, and olive colored skin. She looks like she should be living in the Seam, not in town. Sometimes I find myself wondering if we were meant to switch places in life. I shrug.
"Let's just go back to hunting, okay?" I insist. He nods and we leave our break spot to go deeper into the forest in search of food. But I can only think of one thing: The baker's daughter, Katniss Everdeen.