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Jassy


The next morning I'm up at dawn.

I've had next to no sleep, but it doesn't matter. I'm definitely not going back to sleep. I keep having nightmares about people I know in the Hunger Games; Gale, Rory, me, Posy, Katniss. Of course, Katniss is in the Hunger Games, I remind myself glumly as I trudge into the kitchen, bleary-eyed.

It's so quiet the whole of District 12 must be asleep. Not that it matters anyway. I'm just as alone when everyone's awake.

Yesterday runs through my mind and I bite my lip guiltily. Maybe it's me. Maybe I'm the one pushing people away. After all, it was my name called out. I've been so depressed lately, just thinking about it. I can't imagine what Katniss is going through right now.

I go to the kitchen and begin clearing the bench. The day after Katniss left, a cleaned the entire house, top to bottom. I even swept the ceiling. I have no passtimes; School seems like a waste of time when my sister is fighting for her life, I can't concentrate on reading, We're running far too low on medicinal herbs for me to heal anyone and we don't really have enough money for me to pursue either art or music (not that I'm complaining - I'm terrible at both in any case). It seems like the only thing I do since Katniss has been gone is clear up mess. Gale's mess. Mother's mess. It's better than dealing with my own.

It kind of... sucks, for lack of a better word. But what else is there to do?

Knock Knock.

I raise my eyebrows at Buttercup, who hisses loudly in response. Checking my appearance quickly in the pot on the stove, I run to the door on my tiptoes.

It's Gale.

My expression must show my surprise, because he immediately launches into an explanation.

"You were right," he starts, guiltily. "I've broken my promise. I haven't hunted without Catnip in years, and it's doing my head in. I was watching last night and I thought I'd have a mental breakdown. I- I'm sorry."

I bite my lip and look down at my shoes.

"It's okay. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have said any of that. I was just so... mad you know? Like I said, I don't get how she does it. She's always so calm and strong. I could never be like that." I feel so childish admitting I'll never be like my sister.

When I look up, Gale's grinning for some reason.

"Well, today's your day." He smiles at me.

"Huh?"

"I need a new hunting partner," he explains "and I'm counting on you."


I huff and puff and heave.

Gale laughs and I glare at him.

This is how I've spent the last three hours.

Gale has been incredibly patient, but I know I'm a horrible hunting partner. I can't shoot anything, or even run fast enough to get away from anything. I just can't shoot it. My aim is good enough, but I just start thinking about how it had a family and a life and...

I sigh quietly.

On the upside, I'm wearing Father's jacket and Katniss' hunting boots. They smell like her. It's thrilling almost, dressing up like her. It makes me feel less like me. Does that make sense? I wonder. Who wants to be someone other than themself?

I stop for a second to catch my breath when I hear Gale cry out. It's more shock than terror, but still, I run faster than I have all morning.

When I get there, he's trying to shake some sort of wild dog off his arm. The dog has a good grip though; its teeth sink further into Gale's flesh every second. The thought makes me a little queasy.

Quick as a flash, a whip Katniss' arrows out of the quiver and hold it against the bow. I don't even see it; I just see the dog go limp and Gale shove it off him.

He grins at me.

"Right in the heart. Needless to say that is the best shot you have had all day. Truly Katniss-worthy."

I smile for a second, then realise he's bleeding.

"Shoot!" I say, slipping Katniss' backpack off of my shoulder .

"I can't," he jokes weakly.

I roll my eyes and pry his fingers off his arm. There's a bite there, but it's only shallow.

I immediately begin cleaning it with water from a nearby stream. It's salty, but that's good. It'll keep it clean and without infection.

Gale yelps when I pour it on and I laugh, earning a glare, which makes me laugh more. I pour a decent amount on and then dab it gently with a cloth. There's a small tube of antiseptic ointment in the first aid kit, which I give to him to dab on. I end up doing it myself anyway; he's totally hopeless.

We walk back to the district in the late afternoon. Gale grins at me, and I flash him a smile back.

When I get home, Mother's still in bed, asleep. Her room smells faintly salty from all the crying. I sigh and don't bother waking her up.

I flick on the television, guilty that I haven't been watching as much as I thought I would. There are recaps of everything going 24/7, commentaries, reruns of the reapings, etc. I've only really been watching the new segments, which show up at about 6pm.

Tonight, they show the scores from the training session. The Careers' scores are all typically high, with eights, nines and tens. Peeta pulls a reasonably high score too, but the real surprise is Katniss.

She pulls an eleven.

I feel giddy with relief. I smile, picking up Buttercup and moving closer to the television. He miaows when her image appears and I'm dancing around the room.

She's coming home, I tell myself.

She's coming home.