OK so normally I put my A/N at the end of the chapter, but I don't want to break up the feeling of the chapter at the end. Genuinely, this might be one of my favorite sections that I've ever written in my time on this site, so much so that I want to let it sit alone, not paired up with any other character's POV. I think it's that good, really. While I don't normally ask for reviews or liveblogging or anything, I really want to hear people's thoughts on this one, because I've really never been happier with how something turned out. Of course, it wouldn't be a Goldie chapter without a question, so once you've read the chapter over, here's one to ponder that will also apply to the next intro chapter and maybe also the chapter after: why would I be posting this section right after last chapter's interlude? And with that, enjoy!

Amber Elmore, 12
District Seven Standard Female

There was something magical to Amber Elmore about the sunset. Nearly every clear night, you could find the girl up in one of the tall trees that surrounded her house, watching the sun crest over the horizon and the sky turn from a simple blue to gorgeous pinks and oranges and golds. Every day's sunset was a little bit different, and Amber enjoyed nothing more than watching carefully to see if she could find patterns, of what kind of weather yielded what colors or whether the sunsets were prettier with no clouds or some clouds or mostly but not all clouds. Getting a chance to be by herself and to think and decompress was one of the most important things to Amber; even at her young age, Amber recognized the importance of taking a few moments in each day for herself, to process the events of the day that had passed and prepare mentally for the next one. It was her own special space, completely disconnected from the world she found herself in – and that was precisely the way she liked it.

Being up in the tree was also the time that Amber used to fantasize about what existed – or what could exist – beyond the ocean that she could just barely make out from the treetops. Figuring out that the shimmering, sparkling line all the way out there that almost looked like pavement on a hot day was actually water had opened Amber up to a world of possibilities. She could imagine the people and beings that her mother told her about in her bedtime stories existing somewhere beyond the rippling blue, on a faraway island that was protected by the sea that surrounded it. And sure, she'd never seen a dragon, or a mermaid, or all that many people that looked like her. But all of that could exist across the ocean. After all, Amber had never experienced anything beyond the tiny cottage on the edge of Seven in which she grew up, so she had no reason to believe that the things she imagined didn't exist beyond the waves.

"Amber!" called her mother from inside the house. "It's time to get ready for bed!"

"Aww, Mom, do I have to?" Amber called back.

"Yes, Amber. It's getting late."

"But the sun hasn't set yet!"

"One…"

"Fine. I'm coming down."

Nimbly, Amber flitted from branch to branch until she was firmly back on the ground. She gave the tree a pat on the bark goodbye and ran back into her family's cottage.

"How was the sunset?"

"It was pretty, Papa," Amber replied, giving her step-father a kiss on the cheek. "Lots of orange tonight."

"That sounds lovely, darling. Are you going to bed?"

"Yes, I'm going to go get into my pajamas now."

Paul Elmore reached around and swung Amber onto his lap, then gave her a big bear hug. Amber nuzzled into her stepfather's stomach, listening to the beating of his heart and feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Amber rarely got to spend all that much time with her Papa, because he worked long and inconsistent hours logging and tending to trees in the woods. So the few moments in each day where the two got to spend time together were almost sacred to both of them. Amber took a few more moments to cuddle with her father before giving him one last kiss goodnight and going into her room to get ready for bed. Once her face was watched, her teeth were brushed, and her pajamas were on, she went back into her bed and snuggled up under her covers. "Mom!" she called. "Can you tell me a bedtime story?"

"Of course, dear," replied her mother, who was already on her way to Amber's room. She came into the room holding a chair, which she placed next to Amber's bed. "Do you want any particular story tonight?"

"Tell me the story of the man and the woman in the cottage."

"Again?"

"It's my favorite story!"

"All right, darling. Let's see if I can remember it."

"Mooooom! Stop teasing me. You know this story."

"I know, I know. But sometimes when there are so many stories that I tell, they get a bit mixed up with each other." Amber's mother leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, as if she was trying to remember a story that had been passed down from generation to generation, or perhaps a memory from another place, in another time.

Far far away, across the ocean, there is an island nation. It is not big, which is to say that there is not a lot of land, especially compared to the vastness of Panem. Despite its small size, many people lived on this island, which made it a bustling and vibrant society.

"And all the people there look like us!" interjected Amber, who was tired of her straight, jet-black hair standing out against the lighter hair and bouncy curls of many other girls in Seven.

Amber's mom opened her eyes and gave Amber a look. "Hm, it seems like you know where this is going. Do you want to tell the story?"

"No, Mama," Amber giggled.

"So will you let me tell it?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Where was I? Ah, yes."

But when many people live in a small space, what is bustling and busy can quickly become over-populated and over-crowded, and the land was soon unable to care for all the people who lived there. As the rich became richer and the poor became poorer, those who had the means to do so began to hoard the resources of the island, and those who did not were left to fend for themselves.

Soon enough, the gap between the wealthy and the less fortunate was so bad that many had to turn to violence and theft to have even a hope of survival. Teens and young adults were sent out to try to secure food or water for their families and communities, becoming the primary breadwinners for their parents, grandparents, and younger siblings. Of course, stealing was dangerous, and those who were caught were often punished severely by a corrupt and bribed government, incurring heavy fines or jail time.

Eventually, some shrewd individuals noticed that very few of those teens and twenty-somethings who were sent to jail returned, and those that did seemed shaken up, and had visions and nightmares that nobody could seem to understand. The government attributed the low return rates and psychological impacts to "an uptick in juvenile delinquency in the prison system," and claimed that teens were often resentenced to longer sentences because of actions in prison. When asked why no parents were informed about these longer sentences, the government insisted that those teens in the system were acting as adults when they committed their crimes, both before entering the prison system and while in the system, and therefore they were tried on their own, as adults. This placated some people, including the few people in the wealthy class that were uncomfortable about the government's actions. Others were unconvinced and began to do what they could to investigate what the government did; however, many of those people disappeared as well.

Alarmed, some people saw the writing on the wall and began to do whatever they could to leave the country. People desperately sought trains, planes, boats, anything that could get them off of the island. Adults in particular worked hard to get their offspring out of the country, to protect them from whatever the government was doing. Of course, the government caught on and cracked down on emigration, leaving everyone left in the country at the mercy of those in power. Not that it was any easier for those who managed to get out. People who flew out had nothing with them to survive on wherever they went, and those who got out on boats were in for a long and arduous trip across a seemingly endless swath of ocean. The boats attempted to set sail in groups, so as to stay together, but the long journey and the fact that some boats had engines and some didn't made it incredibly difficult for the boats to actually stick together.

One day, a fleet of five or six boats all left the island at the same time. Shortly after they left, a storm hit, splitting one boat off from the rest of them. On that boat were two young adults, a young man and a young woman, who, in the chaos of boarding the ships, had been split off from their families. As the days turned to weeks, the two of them gravitated towards each other, feeling fortunate to have found someone else who had lost their family at sea. What began as a friendship eventually blossomed into a romance; he proposed, she said yes, and soon they were married.

After what seemed like ages at sea, the boat finally made it to shore, in a distant and unfamiliar land. The young man and the young woman were taken aback by the landscape and the topography – it looked nothing like anything they'd seen before. Many of the people who came on the boat elected to stay on the coastline and make a little colony there, but the young man and the young woman chose to leave their compatriots and begin to search for their families. The journey was long and arduous, and the two struggled to survive in the dense woodlands, as they had only ever known the urban landscapes in which they grew up. But through grit, determination, and a little bit of trial and error, they pushed on, week by week and day by day.

One day, after the two had made camp, the woman began to forage for some berries. Suddenly, she heard a series of growls, followed by a bone-chilling stream. The woman ran back to the campsite to find her husband attempting to fend off a pack of wolves. But before she could step in to try to save her husband, he insisted that she run away; if she tried to save him, both would surely die, but if she got away, at least she would live. Taking one last look at the man she grew to love, the woman ran as far away from the wolves as she could see. Only once she was a safe distance from the wolves did the woman collapse and begin to sob. Everything she'd ever known was gone.

In that moment, the woman would have totally given up, if it weren't for a widower that stumbled upon her while hunting for some dinner for his children. Reminded somehow of his wife who died in childbirth, the man helped the woman to her feet and brought her to his cottage, where he cared for her and nursed her back to health. Once she healed, the man asked the woman where she came from and how she ended up in the woods. The woman told the man her story, but he could hardly believe her; for his whole life, he had been taught that every other country in the world had been destroyed. Knowing the danger that the woman could put him and his family in, the man allowed the woman to stay with him, but he insisted that she not tell anyone anything about her past.

It took some time for the woman to adjust to her new surroundings, but the widower was right by her side. And the two did fall in love, just not quite as quickly and passionately as the woman fell for her first husband; it was more like the way you fall asleep, slowly first and then all at once. They even had a child together shortly after the woman was taken in by the man. For the first time since she left her home, she finally felt safe.

"The end."

Amber's mother opened her eyes to find that the story had lulled the small girl to sleep, just like it always did. It was almost a relief to the woman that the young girl took the story at face value, as just one among many tales that Yoko Tagami Elmore told her daughter before bed. As much as it would be a huge weight off of Yoko's chest to tell Amber that the story was true, that it really was the story of how Yoko and her only child came to Panem, Yoko knew that it would only put Amber into more danger. So, for now, their history had to remain a figment of Amber's imagination. Yoko gave her slumbering daughter a kiss on the forehead, then closed the curtains in her room and snuffed out the flame of the candle, plunging them into darkness.