I am so so sorry :(

Okay, so what happened was, my school laptop (which we take home with us) well it's charger broke.

And it died. :(

Which meant I couldn't access any of the chapters on my laptop as well.

My friend leant me her laptop charger for a couple days (hence me UD today) but there's no way I'll be able to UD as regularly as I have before, at least until 1st of Feb where I can get a new charger. So so so sorry, and I'll try and do some on my home comps, but It won't be as often.

Sorry again!

Disclaimer:

I don't own the Hunger Games, Prim, Hazelle, Gale, Posy... or anything really. I just like to play with the characters and write them into the environment I still don't own. (:

Hazelle's POV

"Get off me you loser!"

"Don't steal my socks next time then!"

"Excuse me if you were dumb enough to lose your socks!"

"Yeah, right! Give 'em back or I'll stay here for the rest of your pitiful life."

"It's virtually impossible, you're going to have to pee and eat sometime, derbrain!"

"I'll get Posy to bring me food and when I need to pee, I'll-"

"KNOCK IT OFF YOU TWO!" I roar, holding on to Posy in my right arm and a large basket of washing in my left.

Vick and Rory look sheepish, the former with a slightly indignant nature, his eyebrows still furrowed in a classic 'It-Was-All-His-Fault' expression. He sits on top of Rory, who still has sleep in the corners of his eyes and drool at the corner of his mouth.

"He stole my socks," whines Vick feebly.

My eyes narrow and he immediately hops off Rory, backing away. I glared at Rory, who swallows, grabbing a pair of faded black socks out from his pillow case and throwing them at Vick. Vick glares at his brother, but he wouldn't dare start fighting again. I'm in a no-nonsense mood. With my 'Give-Mummy-A-Break-Or-She's-Gonna-Lose-It' face, I sweep across the floor and out the door, my long skirt brushing the cracked tiles and making my entrance seem even more dramatic. I have about twelve seconds of peace and quiet, filling the basket to the brim out of the rainwater tank in the backyard, before all hell breaks loose. Again.

Vick and Rory immediately begin tackling each other, screaming obscenities at their opponent. Posy wailed and clutched at my hair. Buttercup had come to visit from next door – he often took care of the mice – and was nudging against my foot with his wet nose.

Straightening up, I put Posy down on the rug and gave her a raisin tied up in a handkerchief, which she sucked on greedily. Picking up Buttercup, I headed toward the Living/Bed Room where we all slept. I dropped him as we passed the small kitchen – it was more of a cupboard really – and he leapt at the mouse which was running across the sink. With the basket – which was now slopping water everywhere – tucked firmly under my arm, I opened the door to the bedroom, composing my face into a mask of intimidation and anger.

Despite all the frustration radiating from me, I had to fight the urge to laugh when they caught sight of me.

Both boys froze, terror crossing their faces.

"Up. Now," I growled, trying desperately not to laugh.

Both of them scrambled to get up, tripping over the others' limbs in the process. It took them 78 seconds to stop being idiotic, the whole of which I stood there, menacing. The washing basket was still tucked under my arm, making me look like the Mother of Deathly Fury.

They stood perfectly straight and still, like little Peacekeeper trainees. Still fighting to remain menacing and intimidating, I took a step towards them. Half of the water from the basket was now gone.

"Now so help me, if you two start arguing for the next three days, I will not only stop permitting you two to leave the house, but I will also make you sleep on the floor, stop you from going to the Everdeens', and talk to your respective teachers about extra homework on the History of Panem, got it?"

"Y-yes," they stammered, fear evident in their eyes.

"Good. Vick, go do the dishes. Rory, go dress Posy."

They ran out of the room and I laughed quietly, placing the basket on the floor. Sure, my kids sometimes frustrated the hell out of me... but they were still my kids. I loved them very much. I stirred the mixture for awhile, before picking it back up to dump it outside.

I laughed when I heard the sound of two arguing teenage boys from outside.

Some things don't change, I smiled.

It was good to have those things when everything else had changed recently.

Gale's POV

I am calm.

I am in control.

I am deadly.

Oh, crap!

The fourth rabbit that day scampered off, not even having the decency to look scared. It twitched its nose at me, momentarily surprised. Then, with an air of exasperation, it hopped off into its burrow.

I'd been out there for three hours, and all I had was a quail, a squirrel and a baby rabbit.

For some reason, I felt a pang of guilt when I caught the rabbit.

Seriously. I'd been hunting for over seven years, and I felt guilty over one baby rabbit? It was insane. But true. The second I took it's twitching body out of the snare, I felt a pang of regret mingled with guilt.

Thanks a lot Prim, you've now made me into a wimp.

I sighed, hauling the bag of the little game I'd collected over my shoulder with my pack. I couldn't really stay out here much longer. It hadn't even helped, anyhow. All I could see was her undressing him, bathing his wounds and...

Angrily, I shot an arrow into the woods for no good reason. I sighed at my impulsiveness; now I was going to have to retrieve it.

I was so messed up.

What was I meant to do?

For awhile, being with Prim helped. Urgh, not like that! Sure, I caught the looks she gave me sometimes, but I was hoping she grew out of it. She was too... Prim. To sweet, to innocent, to optimistic, to young. She deserved much better than me.

Hunting with her, watching her, being friends with her... it helped a lot. She was so unbelievably good. It helped calm me a little, being around her. Prim just helped people, it was second nature to her. Without even meaning it, though, she tended to make people feel better. It was hard to explain... but it was like... her essence? Sort of... It just made being around her like being in the sunshine.

But again, not like that. She was really like my little sister. Plus, the idea of Katniss coming out of the Games and kicking my butt wasn't to inviting. The idea of Katniss in general...

This was one of the things that frustrated me. She doesn't see you in that way, I scorned myself, jumping over a log. With a shock, I realised I'd accidentally shot a turkey. Grinning, I added it to the pile of game. It was much smaller than it would be if I'd been hunting with her, but that really couldn't be helped.

I ran my hand through my hair, sighing again. She was making me crazy. Everything. The whole charade Mellark was putting on about them being together. The fact that it wasn't a charade for him. The fact that I didn't know what it was to her. The fact that she could be dying, right now, and I wouldn't know until at least nine.

The woods usually calmed me down, but today I just had too much steam. I kicked a rock lying on the ground and it skidded about six metres away. I picked it up and threw it another twenty metres. It smashed into a tree trunk and cracked in half.

I was just so sick of doing nothing.

What would Katniss say, if she saw her baby sister working in the apothecary, the laundry, hunting, gathering herbs and essentially raising her mother on her own?

I shook my head. None of us deserved this life.

At least Prim could still be optimistic. I'd turned dark and cynical when I was barely eight. One of four kids, no father, starving, living off the few coins we got through washing merchants' clothes, listening to them complain that they weren't cleaned properly... It made you dark and cynical on its own. When I'd realised some people were far better off even the merchants; never hungry, never thirsty, never sick, never grieving... yeah. Cynicism. And darkness.

And, of course, I'd had to go and screw things up with mine and Prim's friendship as well.

She was right. I was always running away.

I wasn't afraid of the Games. I wasn't afraid of the Capitol. Heck, I wasn't even afraid of Katniss most of the times (though the last week I'd certainly been afraid for her).

But for some reason, her little twelve-year-old angelic sister with her gold curls and blue eyes made me terrified.

Not of her, exactly. Of what she thought, sort of... I don't know. I was far too much a coward to actually apologise to her, anyhow. I had no idea what to do. I knew she was right, but I couldn't really wrap my head around the words to say.

Katniss and I weren't very verbal people. If we'd ever fight, neither of us would say sorry. Words, they're just meaningless. Limited. I'd show her something, or give her something, or teach her a new snare. Showing that you're sorry is so much easier, and has much more worth. How can you even tell that someone is telling you the truth? Words are so easily formed and so easily false.

Prim was so different though. She wasn't verbal exactly... more like she could read people. But I usually just kept a mask covering anything other than darkness and cynicism and sheltering it from people. Unless I was angry of course. But that really couldn't be helped. When I felt anger... I just lost it. I'd learnt to just walk away so nothing that bad happened... But was Prim right? Was I just running away from everything?

This is why I was kind of scared of her.

Forever I'd been the guy who didn't say anything that wasn't sarcastic, didn't do anything unless something was done for him in return.

Prim was making me feel guilty and thoughtful.

What the hell was wrong with me?

Mrs Everdeen's POV

I rubbed my eyes and yawned, rolling over to my husband's side of the bed. It'd been over four years now, but the emptiness always brought back a wave of grief.

Sighing, I stripped off his shirt and pulled a passable floral dress over my head. I'd been able to take a few nice dresses with me when I left home, but most of my good frocks were still in my old house, collecting dust, if my parents hadn't sold them to market of course. They'd basically disowned me the second I'd married a miner. A wry smile came across my lips, immediately chased away by a sad one.

Four years and I still woke up every morning, filled with grief and depression.

I ran a comb through my messy curls and tied a crisp, white apron over my dress. Primrose was humming in the kitchen, and I smiled fondly at her. The poor girl was hopelessly optimistic, and a little naive. Katniss and Peeta both were in an incredibly vulnerable situation. It was horrible to think, but I knew my eldest daughter had very little chance of winning. Hope and optimism... they'd faded over the years. I wasn't cynical, like Gale, and the realisation that our world was one of death and starvation hadn't made me determined, like Hazelle. I was weak and depressive. Guilt was always the underlying emotion.

I hoped my littlest daughter never lost her optimism.

Her forehead creased, as though she could read my expression. I the top of her little golden head gently, grabbing a white cloth and rubbing down the kitchen table.

I laughed as two teenage boys ran into the house, bickering loudly about socks. They were followed by a wide-eyed, curly-headed four year old who was sucking on a handkerchief, and a pensive young man.

"Vick! Rory! What did I say about you two arguing? And you don't just barge into someone's house!"

Prim smiled, leaving the kitchen to go and greet Hazelle. She smiled and hugged the girl, and I felt a pang of uncalled-for jealousy. Prim picked up a brown parcel from the front door and I smiled to myself.

The baker had been one of my best friends, growing up. They'd lived next door to my parents and I, as we'd owned a tea shop. Often we'd buy cakes and biscuits to accompany our teas from them, and Henry would be the one to bring them over. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Prim raise her eyebrows at me, but pretended not to notice. Besides, Henry was only a friend. I felt sorry for him; Alora had been one of the other merchants' kids, and had always hated the both of us growing up. When I'd married 'One Of Those Awful Seam Kids', her parents had jumped at the chance, and within a year they were married. She still hated him now.

We ate the fresh rolls for breakfast, unable to resist the temptation. I saw Prim's eyes widen, and I realised she'd never had fresh bread before. I watched her expression darken slightly, and could almost see the troubling thoughts swirling around in her mind.

I looked up to see both Hazelle and Gale watching her with similar expressions to mine.

I sighed, and wished that life was fair.

Shoutouts:

Narcissa-Weasly: Ikr? It made me feel like I was living in the Capitol :( Bleuch I feel so spoilt! Thanku muchly for all the reviews (:

ihateturkeys: she is cute (: I love Milo. Both Milos (: Milo is awesome. But not as awesome as peanut butter. :D

Sam's Vampire Girl: Yay for caffeine! Except I can't have any atm :( O wells. WE SHALL START A PETITION AGAINST THE MULTICOLOURED LEFT SOCK STEALING GNOEMES IF IT'S THE LAST THING WE EVER DO! ;)

bella-sk8er: Hmmm throw something... a bowl? A pot of flowers? Prim? AHAHA, jokes jokes. But what shalll he throw? that is the question. Ty for your epic review!

crescentrose22: Yeah :( There's a Ms Everdeen POV in this one, but it's a little short. :L I'll do another one soon (:

Honey Bea 1859: You are so awesomely awesome it cannot be put into words. :D ahaha, me and my sis tried making pancakes the other week... it was not actually that bad. By that I mean we didn't blow up the house, which is a vast improvement. ahaha, jokes, but wouldn't it be hilarious if we had blown up the house? Cooking pancakes? ahah :D

MountainAir: yeah, defs (: This Hazelle POV is dedicated to you and your awesomeness (: