~July 13th 2012~

Annie's POV:
I wrapped myself up in the sleeping bag that was my little home, trying to keep the rain out. The cup that held my meagre collectings laid on its side. It seemed that even the inanimate objects were giving up. I sighed as another business man chuckled at my misfortune, it wasn't my fault I was homeless... Was it? After all, how could I have helped the fact that i went bankrupt? I sighed yet again, watching a mother steer her young children away from me, whispering "Don't ever get involved with people like that". I groaned as my tired body stood up and I dragged myself away from my makeshift house to go to the public bathroom that even tramps like me try our best to avoid. However, people like me can't be picky, so using that philosophy, I entered the toilets and squinted as the lights, that were an awful shade of yellow, flickered. I met my own stare in the cracked mirror. Run mascara, purple bags, blue bruises, pale skin, red greasy hair, stained green jumper, ripped dirty joggers, ill fitting trainers. I had come to accept my ragged appearance in the past two weeks or so. Food had been a struggle and warmth even harder to come across. I was giving in. I growled at how bad I'd let myself go and retreated into a cubical at once to give myself relief.
I walked up the stairs of the bathroom and returned to my miniature house. My finger traced the frame that held the picture of my boyfriend, Finnick and my adoptive mother, Mags. Every time I looked at that picture I thought of how stupid I was to have moved to America. Back home in Britain, Finnick and Mags lived together, thinking I was on a fancy study holiday with my friend, Johanna, when in actual fact, she had gone missing a month ago, on the second day of the holiday. I daren't tell them what was going on- I didn't want to worry them as they had enough on their plate already with all the threats from Coriolanus Snow. But that's another story. I threw my body on top of my sleeping bag and counted the money from the cup and in my pocket and all together I had $47.27. I folded my house up and tucked it safely away behind the industrial sized bin, out of sight. With my money in my jumper pocket and my hood over my head, I walked into an alley way that I knew all too well.
"How did I know you would show up?" A tall man in blue jeans and a white vest stood cross armed on a wooden stool.
"Nova."I nodded to greet the familiar face. "$40's worth?" Nova sighed as he felt around his pocket, a red bandana covering his mouth. I wondered how he wasn't cold in just a vest- I was freezing in a hoodie. We swapped the contents of our hands and without another word, we both went separate ways. I felt the tears rushing down my face as I ran towards the bin that concealed my home and retrieved it and laid it out again. Opening the box of pills, I felt myself crying even more and more. I shouldn't have been doing this but I'd been doing it for too long to stop now. I swallowed several of the drugs down and almost instantly felt relief. My head didn't bang; my chin didn't quiver; my eyes didn't cloud over. I felt neutral.

~15th July 2012~
The Sun newspaper.

Homeless girl, Annie Cresta, was found on the streets of America, unconscious due to heavy drugs yesterday. Cresta's boyfriend and adoptive mother both had no idea that she was inhabiting a shop doorway and promised to stay with her throughout the whole incident. Annie was usually a bright and happy girl but when she holidayed to America with her long term friend, Johanna Mason, everything began to turn sour as Mason went missing and Cresta lost all her money. The 18 year old turned to drugs only once when she was in a deep depression and doctors say that she may never be back to her normal state again.