A/N: Thank you for all the alerts! I am pleasantly surprised by the interest in this story!

There might be some confusion... if there is and you have any questions, don't hesitate to PM me, or review. Whatever is easiest for you. BY the way, if any of you are wondering, this and the rest of the story takes place about 10 years later.

I don't own anything!


Chapter 2:

Katniss POV:

"You can go live in a box for all I care! Just get the hell out of here, you scum!" The old woman throws me a worn burgundy scarf but it ends up falling in a pile of wet snow. She just laughs as she closes the gate to the place I used to call home.

"Anything's better than living in this shithole." I mumble, as I bend down picking up the frayed garment. With a quick brush of my hand, I remove the pieces of snow that have stuck to the material. Although it's slightly damp, I wrap it around my neck and tuck it into my jacket.

The Old Hag had kicked me out because she hated me with a passion… but I hated her too. So I guess we evened out.

The thin material that covers my feet is anything but protecting and I can start to feel a chill through my worn Hunting Jacket. I bring the coat closer to my chin as I walk on the snow covered streets of District Twelve.

The piercing sound of a giggle brings me to my senses. Children wander the streets as they chase each other in a game of tag, the parents trailing behind them closely.

The visible smile on their faces is just enough to turn my insides. I yearn to be them, to be a child again. I want to know if I have a family out there, to know that I have people out there who care for me. I could have been one of them for all I know, laughing along with the others my age. But, I can't even remember my own past, so how would I know?

I have been tossed back and forth through several different orphanages for years. Many never wanted me, or I passed the age limit. They might have let me stayed, working as a maid or helping out in the kitchen. Despite the fact that I was obstinate, and never got along with people, I was usually out on the streets within the first couple days. I was too stubborn for my own good, and once I shared my opinions, they kicked me out.

Pieces of ice cover the evergreen trees that surround me, and a sunrise is just starting to form. The beautiful vibrant pinks and violets, melted together to create a layered masterpiece. With the fresh snow covered surface, it looks so beautiful.

My breathe hitches as I look into the unknown area. I have somehow made my way towards the Merchant part of the District. I haven't had been fortunate enough to tour around this area, because I was living in the Seam. So I peer around a tree, and fully take in my surroundings.

Most of the children who lived in the orphanages were from the Seam, their olive skin tone, and grey eyes evident of their living conditions. A couple of years ago though a little girl, of the age of twelve, had gotten administered in the same room as me. Her blond hair and bright blue eyes made it clear that she wasn't from the same class as the others. I believe I remember her name was Anya.

Although, being from a higher class, the others had misjudged her. They assumed that she was stuck up, and completely narcissistic. Girls two times her age would gang up on her, treat her like they had been treated as children. I could tell she was hurt by their malicious comments but she just sat in her chair, reading the few books she had. After months of taunting and no result from her, they moved on to their next victim.

I couldn't help feeling admiration towards her; even when she got ridiculed, her attitude was better than half the kids there. She was inspiring.

I decide that I am going to walk through this part of town. If that poor little girl had seen the bright side, then I could too.

After walking past several homes, a delightful smell fills my nose. The warm scent of bread hits the air in cloud of smoke, coming from a little bakery. My stomach longs to enter, to taste all the delicacies that I have still yet to try. I have nothing to offer them, though.

It couldn't hurt to just look however; I move closer to the bakery window and peer inside. Many elaborately decorated cakes are arranged before me. The beautiful pastel colours make the intricate flowers look almost lifelike.

I lean closer to the window, not knowing my proximity and smash my head against the glass. My head flies back in a state of shock, a throbbing pain running down my brow. My hand immediately rubs my forehead, feeling the now visible bump.

"I hate it when that happens." I remove my hand from my face, searching for the voice. I find a blue pair of eyes looking back at me, white flour covering most of his clothes.

"Here, come ahead inside. I'll get you some ice." My mouth is agape and I can feel my eyes narrow. What exactly is he suggesting? He must sense my uneasiness, because he sticks his hand out almost right away.

"I'm Peeta." I am unsure if this man is just being hospitably kind, I mean, not everyone was out there to hurt people. After a few seconds of silence, I take his hand.

"Kat. My name is Kat. " I say simply. He doesn't ask anything else, he just nods and smiles. Not one of those awkward smiles, but one where they pull at your heartstrings.

"Come inside, and I'll get you something for that bump." I wince as I touch my forehead, the pain has doubled and so has the size of the bump. The pain would only get worse if I didn't treat the injury right away.

A shield of delicious aromas hit me as I follow him inside. My mouth watering as I see the different types breads, cookies and pastries. On occasion of a birthday, in the children's home, someone would be bought a small cake. Although it was never that intricately decorated it was still a beautiful gesture.

"Take a seat anywhere, and let me get you some ice."

He disappears into a backroom while I sit on the closest chair, taking in my surroundings. The inside is unlike anything I have seen before; beautiful paintings cover every inch of the wall space, furniture you would never see in an orphanage. My eyes land on a painting of a sunrise, much like the one I saw this morning. The simplicity is captivating yet beautiful, the bright colours merging together looks as if it were real.

Beside it is a painting of five people, who look all relatively similar. They all have blond hair and bright blue eyes and are without a doubt related to each other. An older woman, most likely the mother sits in a chair beside what looks to be her husband and three boys stand among them with large smiles on their faces. I know regardless that the youngest looking boy is Peeta. His curly blond hair i saw today, looking almost identical to the one in the picture.

I can't help but feel a pang in my chest, the want emerging from my pores. I wanted what Peeta had, a loving family. I hold back tears as they threaten to escape. I wasn't even sure if I even had a family out there, they might not even know if I'm alive. I would never have a father to walk me down the aisle at my wedding, a mother to sob with me over useless problems or a sibling to care for.

I wasn't going to figure out who I was, by mindlessly wandering the district. I had to go out, and search myself. If I had someone out in this world that loved me I would have to go on a Journey.

Home, Love, Family. There was once a time I must have had them too. I will never be complete until I find you.

Cato POV:

"Let it lead me to my past,

Courage see me through,

Heart I'm trusting you,

To bring me home..."

The tone deaf voice echoes through the desolate hall, and I can feel a loss of hearing in my left ear. Out of the corner of my eye I see Finnick squint during a very off note, but he quickly recovers.

'Give her a try man, she could be the Princess.' He said, with an ineffective smirk on his face. Try my ass. The only reason he stood up for her was because he thought she was hot. Actually, she is the total complete opposite of the Princess. With her blond hair and perfect body, I would think she walked out of a Magazine.

The room has gone silent, and then I realize that she stands in front of us, very expectantly. I bite down on the inside of my cheek, to stop myself from saying any harsh comments.

"Thanks gorgeous, we'll give you a call if you make it." Finnick says in his try hard seductive voice, the one that makes every girl fall to their knees. She almost did actually, but she quickly recuperated. He was my best friend, but sometimes I wanted to stab him repeatedly.

She practically pranced out of the room, giggling like a tenth grader. She was most defiantly not the person we needed. Damn you Finn.

"Flirting is not going to get us the Princess, Finn." I get up from the wooden chair and discard the blonde's audition paper.

"Look, Cato. We all know that the Princess has been missing for what, like 10 years? I'm pretty sure her sister would gladly accept anyone who looks like her. She doesn't need to sing like her." I shake my head at his boyish antics.

I scoff at his remark, "You think that blond bimbo looks like the princess?"

He ignores my question and glances at the photo in his hands. It had been a family picture of the Everdeen family taken about 10 years ago. They were once rulers of District Thirteen, until the night of their families' 50th anniversary of power. Someone had gunned down most of the citizens there, including the King, and Queen. Luckily their daughters had escaped and headed for the Capitol. Although they fled, the oldest daughter had gone missing. Katniss Everdeen had disappeared off the face of the earth.

A couple years later, Thirteen was bombed off the map. To this day, no one actually knows what caused the district to go up in flames.

"That million dollars better be worth every cent, because this is ending up a hell of a lot harder than it should." Finnick sighs, as he puts the picture back into his pocket. Her sister had declared an award of one million dollars, to whom ever could return her to the Capitol safety.

"Don't worry, man. We will find 'the princess' in no time." I shuffle through the rest of the audition papers, as Finnick gets up from his seat.

"Well… I'm going to go get food. I'm starved, what about you?" I shake my head, my eyes glued to the lucky contestants.

One catches my eye. She has the same olive skin tone, and long dark hair cascades down her back. I look through her information provided on the sheet. Her age is 22 and she has stated that she has lived in the Seam her whole life, the only complication is the colour of her eyes. They are a shade of vibrant blue, whereas Katniss' were a stormy grey. I can already tell it's not her, the fire missing beneath those grey orbs, but no one would notice, right? Finnick was veracious; her sister was desperate enough that if the girl looked like the missing heiress, she would accept her. Princess Primrose would finally have her precious sister back, and that one million dollars would be in our faithful hands.

"Hey Finn, I think I found somebody," I yell happily, hoping he hasn't gone too far. I needed to show him my findings.

After a few moments of silence, I hear heavy footsteps coming towards me.

"Cato… can you come here for a second. I think there is something you should see." Finnick's normally cool tone has been replaced into something I can't identify; something really has him shaken up. I get up from the wooden chair, still gripping the woman's paper in my hand.

He brings me into the hall of the Justice Building, and opens the door to the main room. I am not prepared for what I see. A woman my age sits in one of the chairs, her dark hair tied in a simple braid. Her clothing is worn and older looking, i could tell she wasn't the richest person in the world.

"Excuse me, Miss..." Finnick says, bringing her attention to us. Her grey eyes flash towards us, a questioning look on her face. My mouth opens in shock as I realize the similarities. I grab the picture that is now in his hand and compare them. She looks exactly like the princess.

"Yes…" Her voice laced with confusion, if I knew any better I would think that she had no idea what she was doing here.

I gain my ability to talk and discard the audition paper in the trash can.

"We have a proposition for you, may you come with us?" I can only wonder what we'll buy first with that million dollars.


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