Katniss
Slowly, I begin to settle into my new job. After a few day of basic training, I am put to work out in the fields along with Gale, Finnick, Madge and Johanna. Life on the farm may be very different from back home, but it isn't long until I find myself getting used to the routine.
We get Sunday's off, so Delly suggests we go see the horses. 'Are you sure about this?', I ask Delly nervously, as we walk up the hill to the horse stable. I have to admit I'm a little anxious at the thought of going so close to a horse. She grins widely. 'Of course, Katniss. It'll be great'. I try to let her comment comfort me, but Delly is so upbeat about everything I can't tell if her assurance is genuine. Annie and Madge follow behind us, being the only two to agree to come. Annie looks excited, but Madge looks almost as afraid as I feel. Delly fiddles with the lock on the door for a moment, before pushing it aside to reveal the four horses within.
Two of them are brown with black markings and the others are different shades of grey. Admittedly, they don't look all that menacing, but their height is quite intimidating. For me, at least. Delly gestures encouragingly for us to come closer.
Annie steps forward immediately, seemingly awed by the creatures. She starts to pat one of the brown ones, grinning. 'Katniss, Madge!', Delly calls, waving us over. 'Come on. They're harmless!', she promises. Madge and I share an unsure glance.
Delly works with animals, so she knows more about them than we do, but I still feel conflicted. I don't want to disappoint her though, so I walk towards one of the dappled horses. After another encouraging look from Delly, I reach out my hand and gently stroke the horse's neck. It has a smooth, soft texture that reminds me of a blanket. With a little more persuasion, Madge, too, approaches the horse tentatively. I demonstrate the gentle stroking motion on the horse's neck and she copies.
Delly claps her hands, beaming. 'Great! You guys did so well!', she exclaims, practically bursting with enthusiasm. 'Maybe next time you can ride them!'.
Madge looks at me worriedly, which makes Delly laugh. 'Don't worry, I'm just kidding. You could if you wanted to, though'. She keeps up a steady flow of praises as we walk back to our dormitories and I find myself starting to tune out.
That evening, supper is just as varied and exciting as it had been on my first day. Quiches, salads, soups, stir fries and pastas all compete for my attention. I don't know if my stomach has fully adjusted to the food here yet, so I keep it minimal with a slice of quiche and a small portion of salad along with a bread roll.
The first thing Johanna and the others ask when we're all seated around our usual table is how the horse visit went. Delly launches into a whole story about well we did and how she is so proud that we did it. I can't help but roll my eyes a little.
'Did you know they celebrate Halloween here?', I ask quickly, when Delly has to stop to take a breath. I'm not particularly interested in Halloween but I feign excitement in order to change the topic. Peeta told me about the celebration on my first day here.
'Oh, yeah, they do every year', says Finnick. 'I've been here for two years and they did it both times'. He swallows a bite of stew before continuing. 'It's pretty good, actually. You get to dress up, and there's a party, so we get a day off.'
'Last year Johanna dressed up as a farm worker', adds Gale, chuckling. 'Creative, right?' Johanna glares at him. 'Yeah, because there are so many other things I could dress up as', she snaps back. 'I mean-'
'What are you going to do this year?', I interrupt quickly, not wanting them to have an argument.
Johanna shrugs, spooning soup into her mouth. 'I don't know. It's only August,' she points out. 'I know I won't be a farmer', she says, waving her spoon menacingly at Gale, who simply rolls his eyes and returns to his dinner.
'I heard that Peeta's going away for a few days next week', pipes Madge suddenly.
This catches my attention, although I try to sound uninterested when I speak.
'Really? I wonder why.' I say, aiming for a offhand tone. I bite into my roll, chewing casually.
Delly looks speculative for a moment, but I notice she's biting her lip like she does when she's nervous. 'I don't know', she admits finally. She frowns for a moment thinking, before seemingly shrugging it off. She changes the subject a little too quickly afterwards.
The next morning, as we are seated around our usual table for breakfast, I can't help feeling like something's off. The others are engaged in a conversation about their lives at home, so I let my eyes flicker around the table, searching for a cause of the shift. I squint at everybody, and then it hits me. Johanna isn't here. I frown. It isn't like Johanna to be late for a meal. That woman has the appetite of an elephant.
'Do you know where Johanna is?', I ask, turning to Gale who sits beside me. He looks confused for a moment, and his grey eyes travel around the table, as if she'd appear out of thin air. 'No, I don't', he answers, perplexed. 'Maybe she's sleeping in?' I nod, although that's highly unlikely. Johanna is, on principle, very much a morning person, and besides, we are all required to be up by seven on working days. 'I'll just go check on her', I say quietly. He nods, and I manage to slip away from the table without anybody else noticing.
Outside in the cold Autumn air, the wind bites at my exposed skin. I pull my thin jacket tighter around myself, shivering. I hurry to the dormitory building and take the steps on the winding staircase that leads to the rooms two at a time. The girls dormitories are on the right, the boys on the left, although we each have our own small room. Johanna's door is locked. 'Johanna?', I question, knocking firmly. No answer. I call louder, and knock with more force. Nothing.
'Johanna!', I shout. 'Are you in there?'. Still nothing. 'If you don't answer, I'll break down the door', I threaten. She knows me well enough to figure that it's not an empty threat. I pause for a moment, listening for a reply. When none is forthcoming, I realise that I actually will have to break down the door. Stepping backwards, I take a deep breath before kicking out as hard as I can. After a few more kicks, the door's hinges give way, and it swings open. For once, I am grateful for the poor quality.
Cautiously, I step inside the room. After a quick glance around, I can tell she's not here. The room looks strange though, clothes and shoes have been discarded on the floor as if by someone in a hurry. Johanna is not a particularly neat person, but this isn't like her. I step over a grey jacket, thinking furiously. Where is she?
I inspect the room more carefully, looking for details which might help my quest for the answer. A scrap of paper lying on her bedside table catches my eye and I pick it up, hands shaking.
Don't worry about me.
I read the four short words quickly, but they are of no use. I want to scrunch the paper into a ball and hurl it out the window. Don't worry about me? That doesn't tell me anything, and now I feel even more worried than before.
I have to tell someone. It's obviously not something I can just handle alone. Who knows Johanna well enough to have any idea where she might be? My mind immediately goes to our group of friends. They've known her longer than I do, so they might have a better clue as to where she's gone. It occurs to me, however, that going back to the Dining Warehouse and explaining the situation would take a great deal of time. Time I don't have.
I rack my brain for ideas. So now that Gale, Finnick, Annie, Delly and Madge are off the table, who else could help? I consider Darius, the red-headed man who works in the office, but I've met him only a few times, and besides, the office is right on the opposite side of the farm. I will myself to think harder, to remember someone I may have forgotten, anyone who may be able to help. Then, suddenly, it occurs to me.
Peeta.
Peeta
The funny thing about working on a farm is that it's a quiet job. You wouldn't think so, what with all the animals and the hundreds of workers we employ, but it is.
As the manager of the employees, I have a fair amount of spare time. More than most people here do. Usually, I spend it painting or baking, or even reading. My bookshelf is well stocked, all the classics and then a few others. Cookbooks, art related books and travel books which I enjoy reading although I know that I'll probably never go to any other districts besides this one and the district in which I grew up, 12.
Today however, I'm occupying the time I have spare by writing a letter to my two older brothers. They remained in district 12 when my mother, father and I made the move to district 11. Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I'd refused to come and insisted in staying there. I wouldn't be working on a farm, that's for sure.
I've written only a few lines before I get stuck on what to say. I have a lot to tell them of course, but some small part of me wonders if they even care. I'd like to hope that they do, because I wonder what they are doing all the time. It makes me sad, sometimes, when I think about how close we were when we were younger. Practically inseparable. But now, they are in their mid twenties and have families of their own. Their children are sweet, and my brothers adore them. And I get along well with their wives, Alana and Samantha. I just wonder, sometimes, what life would be like if we were closer.
I write another paragraph, but I can feel myself getting distracted at the view outside my window, where I can see into the garden of a nearby tiny hut. A young boy of around six and his mother are playing a game with two sticks. I can't tell what they're doing exactly, but they both look so happy. My mother and I have never had a good relationship. Even when I was a child, she always seemed to favour my brothers over me. I grew up wondering what I'd done wrong. And I never found the answer.
In the letter, I tell them all about life here on the farm. I ask them many questions about their lives, too. How their wives and kids are doing, when their eldest is due to start school. Nothing that requires too much thought. I can only hope that they reply.
When, at last, I finish the letter, the mother and son have gone inside. I stare outside the window for a moment, before rousing myself and sealing the letter in an envelope.
I weigh the letter in my hand, imaging their reactions after reading it. Would they be glad I contacted them and rush to reply?
Or, would they simply shove my letter away into a drawer and forget about it? I push the negative thoughts away and place the envelope next to the front door, where can post it tomorrow. Whether or not they reply is up to them. The most I can do is send them the letter and hope for the best.
Glancing at my watch, I see that I still have an hour of spare time until I have to attend a meeting I scheduled about changing the brand of seeds we use on the farm. That's another quirk of working here. Even the tiniest change in fertiliser or animal feed warrants a whole meeting.
Getting up, I shuffle through my bookshelf in search of something to read. My hand immediately finds one of my favourites, and I settle into my armchair and start to read. Within only a few minutes, I am so caught up in the story that I almost don't hear the knock. It's a frantic, urgent sounding knock, so I hurry to the door. I give the doorknob a rapid twist and pull the door open to reveal Katniss. Her eyes are wide with desperation and she is chewing hard on her bottom lip.
'Peeta', she says hurriedly, before I can ask her what's wrong. 'You have to help me. Johanna's gone missing.'