A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter. I hope you make it a tradition. Here's chapter one. More to come. -Taryn

Chapter One

"Wakey-wakey!" trilled the ever agitating voice.

I groaned, threw a hand up to block my eyes from the sunlight, and someone opened the car door next to me. An icy wind swept over my face and I twisted away in distaste, pulling my hands through my hair. "Katniss Everdeen," Effie scolded, when I made no move to join her on the sidewalk, "get up this instant."

The official driver peered uncertainly over his shoulder, through the barred gate between the front seats and the back. "I have places to be," he told Effie.

"Hush, hush," Effie said to him, smiling frailly. "She doesn't like hearing men's voices."

No, I thought, I don't like your voice.

She was saying something encouraging to me in that petulant tone of hers, and I was the first to hear the approaching person; the snow crunching beneath his feet. I sat up in an instant, eyes wide, a hand shooting out and grasping Effie by her ridiculous pink jacket and pulling her hurriedly back in the car. But before I could slam the car door, he was there, peering down at me with dark brown eyes. That's not right. I stalled; Effie was blabbering about how I upset her curls and wrinkled her pants, while the man continued to stare evenly back at me.

Effie pushed herself to her feet, heels clicking on the ice beyond and she straightened her clothes huffily. Then she noticed my flickering eyes between her and the man. Who is this? Effie smiled. "This is Thresh, Katniss. We call him the muscle man around here."

I could see why. Thresh was a man with a hulking disposition, his skin was as dark as charcoal and his shoulders wider than most pro-wrestlers. Something about his face was clenched and stubborn, yet, it held that carefully expressionless mirth that I'd seen in so many other faces when they are the staff in the business that I am so closely related.

Thresh grunted his greeting. I said nothing.

"You have a choice now, Katniss," Effie began, leaning toward me. "Either you will walk nicely to those front doors, or Thresh here can help you. This is your choice, take you time, and think hard."

I'm not a child, I wanted to snap, but pursed my lips and actually did think it over. My eyes traveled away from Effie's face and beyond Thresh's height. The front doors couldn't have been more than a hundred paces away from the parking lot; they were glass doors, and I could see no one hiding behind them, waiting for me. That was always reassuring. However, inevitably, I took in the entire building. Five stories of white paneled, sometimes windowed, walls. Tall and threatening and wide. Snow glittered on the front lawn, but closer to us, shoved into the wedge of concrete between sidewalk and parking lot was the dirtied, gray, brown piles of slush, and above a glowing sign with the words Panem's Mental Institution written in red letters across it, the snow fell from the roof occasionally, thudding on the ground.

I'd have to run, passed that part, then. Otherwise, it was fine. I could go. I didn't see anything potentially triggering. There wasn't his shadow looming out from behind a frosted shrub. No sign of him. I turned to Effie and nodded.

Her smile is winning. "Perfect! Just perfect, you're starting off great. You are going to love your new home. But I've already promised that before, hadn't I?" Effie stepped away from the door, along with Thresh, to allow me room to step out and the instant I was, the air bit on every bare piece of flesh I possessed. I huddled deeper into my coat and clutched it around my chest, following slowly behind Effie, who clicked her way along. Thresh followed us. I kept my eyes glued on his shadow thrown along the ground to my left, careful, making sure it did not move too swiftly.

When I broke into a sprint to get under the hanging sign, Effie gave a dismayed shout. "That is not safe!" She was disgruntled once she caught up with me, hunched against the glass of the front door. "We have other patients here who are easily flustered by those kinds of things. Respect that. We here at Panem are a family."

I'd heard that more times than I could count. And I could count to five-hundred fifty-two in my sleep, every night. I'd been kicked out of so many families, I had begun to think Panem would be just another one of those. It wasn't my fault I triggered others, that was their blame to bear; I wouldn't take responsibility for someone else's mental crack.

I wondered if she'd read my file thoroughly enough. It specifically said I don't play well with others. Perhaps, that was what Thresh was for, and I was suddenly not keen on standing by him as he unlocked the front doors with a shiny white key card. I cocked my head.

Effie had traveled all the way here with me for some time, now, and I got the feeling she'd been working for mental hospitals for a very long time, so the silent inquisition was not lost on her. "That's for protection. Both for everyone outside and inside. Only certain staff members get the key cards. You know, fun fact! There were only twelve keys ever made. Warden Coin got us all kinds of new and improved security systems in the last five years."

Was that a warning, or a promise, or a simple sentence? I watched both suspiciously once we got inside. The place was heated and the two shrugged easily out of their coats, revealing those primed white uniforms beneath. It made Thresh somehow seem larger. "Now let's see," Effie said, leading us through the pleasant front room. There was a front desk. It was one of those with a glass wall spreading around the area, blocking it off from the entire room. To the side was a barred white door, there was no handle, no window, only a red sign that said contact the front desk. From where I stood, through the plexiglass, I could see the button that controlled the door.

A woman sitting beside it caught my stare. Like Thresh there was no shift of expression, hers was clean and she stared evenly back at me. From the sharp, fine edges of her face and the shock of her red hair, I decided she looked a bit like a fox. Her voice was cool when she greeted Effie; "Good morning, Miss Trinket."

"Good morning." Effie set a careful hand on my shoulder and I glared at it. "This is Katniss Everdeen. We're checking her in. Think we could get a rule book for her to read and her room number?"

"Right away." Foxface twirled away from us on the computer chair she sat in and stopped herself in front of a filing cabinet. Flicking through files faster than I thought anyone could read, she located one, pulled it free, took out a small paper book and then a slip, and kicked herself off the drawer to spin back toward us. She pulled open the small square of glass that moved and placed the items in Effie's traffic cone orange nailed hands.

"Thank you very much!"

They all looked to me then. And I knew what was coming. "Katniss, are you ready to get settled in your new room?" I nodded. "You can do it yourself? Don't need any help? No one here would ever dream of judging you if you need a moment or some aid. There is no judging in this family."

Family, I thought, you keep saying that, but you are the only person I've seen smiling. But again, I found myself considering her words and what she offered. I glanced around at the front room. It was sweet smelling, something like roses. An array of leather furniture sat to the side; I was tired from long car trips and a court visit on the matter of my new placement and the sight of those chairs made me want to curl up and close my eyes and dream of oreos. Oreos, and my stomach grumbled internally, twisting around itself. Dinner first, then sleep, I finally decided and I dipped my chin at the staff to let them know I was ready.

Effie clapped her hands for me, excited, and motioned for Foxface to press the button. There was a clear ring, like the frantic call of a bird, when the door swung open and I stiffened. Thresh ushered Effie and I through, signaled a flick of his hand toward Foxface, and the door slammed closed at our back. I was led down the corridor beyond. Noise echoed around us. Voices, a television, someone's laugh, a cough, the clear, thunderously loud snapping of someone's foot on white tiles.

I planted my feet a few yards from the end of the corridor. From where I stood I could see a staircase leading upstairs, and to the sides, there were two other ways to go. On one side the noises came crawling out and the other was silent. I chewed on the inside of my cheek and waited for Effie's voice.

"What's the matter, Katniss?"

I pointed at the steps. Then shook my head.

Effie nodded her approval. "Good communication! And there won't need to be any worry. You're on the bottom floor, in room Twelve B. There won't be any need to go upstairs, I promise. The common room and the cafeteria are both down here and there is a bathroom for each floor at the end of the rooming halls."

Where is the staff floor? How many rooms is there? How many members are there in this family?

I had questions, I wanted to know the answer, but somehow, my lips refused to move. It wasn't that I couldn't control them, it was that.. perhaps I don't like her answers. Maybe she'll lie. What use will those answers be to me, when he's coming after me? They've ignored my screams before. They've held me in his sight, allowed him to touch me, and I screamed for them, I screamed mother, and I warned them he was there, but they never listen. Never.

"Would you like to meet a few of your fellow peers before we bring you to your room?" Effie asked. She'd been trained not to grow impatient, even though we'd been standing in silence, glued to the spot, for more than a few minutes. Even Thresh didn't appear to be bored. I felt deceived. And I shook my head clearly; I don't like peers.

"Very well, come this way." Effie ventured cautiously forward and I met her footsteps. I liked the sound of her feet more than her voice; it was a delicate thing, the click, click, clicking of her white heels.

Once we reached the end of the hall, to the right there was a long passageway full of doors and at the end there was a bathroom sign on a larger threshold. To the left, sprawled an open area. It was lined with wide windows on the backside, displaying Alaska's snow laden wilderness – row upon row of towering trees could be seen rolling away from the establishment. Within the room there were multiple set ups; from checker boards to a small television with chairs around it, to a table of cards and coaches or nail polish, even a painting section. On the far side, through a archway there was the cafeteria, simple.

What wasn't simple, was all the people I saw moving about. There weren't that many. But to me, more than four people was a crowd. There was a blonde teenage girl laying on the floor, laughing, clutching her stomach, and a boy was seated beside her, petting out her hair, smiling. One kid sat next to the window, face almost pressed into the glass. Someone had made a mess of the painting station. Two staff members were talking in calm tones to a ruthless looking fellow who slammed a fist into the card table.

I fled down the roomed hallway before any of them could see me. Effie scolded me again for the running. Then jumped out of her skin when I made a noise, of startlement, at the sight of one of the doors swinging open. I snatched at Thresh's sleeve and attempted to throw him in that direction, as if I were strong enough, or that he were a literal weapon.

Unfortunately, he didn't budge and grunted and gave me a steady stare, before tipping his head very slightly at the door three feet away. I didn't want to look. I closed my eyes. I counted. Effie sighed. "Rue, forgive Katniss. She has trouble with sudden changes or movements."

No, I corrected her, it was the sound. I heard the door creak, creak, creaking. I hate sudden sounds.

There was the rasping of slipping footsteps approaching me, light as air. "I'm sorry," spoke a small voice. "I didn't mean to scare you."

I wasn't scared. To prove that I turned to her. Rue was smiling slightly, and she couldn't have been more than twelve, she was so short, so small, her sweet face chocolate colored and her hair coarse and twisted. I used to look that young. I was heartbreaking back then, to the doctors. I was a broken little girl to clutch and rock and sing to. Then I turned sixteen, and all I was to them was pitiable.

"She doesn't talk much," Effie told her, when I had yet to accept the apology.

"Why not?" Rue asked. Her small hand flitted up to cradle her throat. "Was she hurt?"

"Yes," Effie answered, while I mentally replied, no. "Katniss is a psychological mute."

Rue seemed confused. "She doesn't want to talk?"

"I can," I rasped. Effie jumped, and Thresh made a hum almost like amusement.

Rue smiled brightly. "You have a pretty voice."

I've never been told that. I eyed her.

Effie cleared her throat. "Well, I'm sure the two of you will have plenty of time to get to know each other, but dinner is in nearly an hour and I would like Katniss to be settled before she meets all the others."

My room was simple. The floor was white, and there were no sharp corners anywhere to be seen. The bed frame was made of a rounded sort of plastic. A familiar smell of bleach leeched from the mattress and sheets, as well as the carefully folded clothes inside my wooden dresser. The only source of color were the walls, the cheap wallpaper peeling slightly along the edge closest to the ceilings, the pale dandelions twisted around each other in tangles of green weeds and a wishy-washy background of sunset orange. I touched the strip beside the light switch; it was textured.

"Here's your book of conduct and the rules we expect you to acknowledge," Effie told me, setting them on my bed, along with the slip. "If you ever forget the schedule or your room number, that piece of paper has it written down. Don't hesitate to ask me, either. You don't have to use them, but we were told you like being independent, so the options are there for you." She looked around the room, pointed at a basket. "That's where you put your dirty clothes, and if you feel the need for new bedding just put them in there as well. Yes? Good? Okay. Dinner is in forty minutes, you're welcome to head out to the common room if you'd like. Otherwise, I'll just let you be.." and she was finally gone.

Predictably the schedule was very routine. I didn't bother memorizing it, but instead, I went straight for the little closet at the back of my room, that was closed off by a handing curtain of green fabric. Inside there was a winter outfit, specifically made for snow and mucking around and I ran my fingers over it. Then I ripped it from the hanger, let the pants and jacket and sweater pile up on the floor, and sat within it. I huddled against the back wall, drew my knees to my chest and admired the alcove of space for a few moments.

Yes. This will do.

The last institution I stayed at had been a lot less laid back. There were no closets. Our rooms were more like cells, small and cramped and suffocating. Thin walls. Such thin walls. An older man in the room next to mine had a knack of tapping his foot on the wall and it would drive me insane. The tap, tap, tap, was so close to thud, thud, thud. Sometimes he'd speak at me through the wall and I'd ignore him, or he'd whistle and he'd even chortle at me when I slammed my fists right back at his tapping and screamed at him to stop. We didn't get along; but the doctors said I was the problem, not that great old alcoholic who checked himself in far too often.

I was glad to leave him behind. Though it was peculiar, out of the hundreds of other patients, the day I left, he was the only one to see me off. A snark smile, crude hand gesture, and a "It was nice knowing yah, sweetheart" before Effie Trinket made her overzealous introduction. It was odd, because it was not nice. We didn't know each other. Him and I shared only the misfortune of such thin walls.

I rapped my knuckles on the wall beside me. There was no hollow, no responding noise of the vibrations bouncing off the other side and coming back at me. These were nice, thick walls.

To keep my hiding place a secret, I stood, scattered the clothes slightly, and pulled the curtain over the closet tightly. Burning into my back, I could feel unseen eyes watching me. I scanned the room for cameras – there was one. I froze at the sight of it; he could use that, to watch me. He'll know I'm in the closet. He'll know. Frantically, I dove at the dresser, tore through the clothes and found a shirt. I climbed onto the piece of furniture, balanced and careened over the side, fingers reaching, winding the fabric around the lens. That nerve grating blinking red light was muffled by white.

I sagged in the wall, staring at my accomplished work, then slid down the length of it, until I was sitting on the dresser top. Footsteps rang down the hall. Not thudding. A person walking slow. They pass my room and continue for some ways before stopping. I listen for more. I listen.

That is what I do. I sit still. I listen. I wait. I count. I wonder if he will find me.

Another caretaker came for me at dinner time, not Effie. There was a ruckus coming from another room, Two A. The caretaker tisked under his breath. "Cato, again. That kid can't keep himself calm for his life."

Why? I wanted to ask. What's wrong with him? I peered through the door best I could when we passed, but all I got was a flash of Thresh pinning the ruthless blonde boy I'd seen before to the wall, and a nurse sedating him with a needle in his neck. Unease crawled up my throat, drying it, and I picked up pace. The caretaker was of average height, red haired, and a boyish look to him. His name tag said Darius.

I didn't trust him. That went without saying. Darius gave me innocent glances, when my head whipped over my shoulder, from one side then the other, to keep tabs on him. He shouldn't be behind me. Too close behind me. He had come up the stairs behind me. I broke into a run once we reached the open area, jolting from a anxious walk to an all out sprint. I was sure once I hit the populated cafeteria I would be safe. Except I had to make sure Darius wasn't faster than me. He was faster than me.. no, that's not right, no.. Hazelle.. "Humph."

A hand clutched me tightly on the arm and my chest throbbed momentarily. I reeled to get my head around, to see what I'd hit – it was warm and solid and took the blow with only a slight rebuke. My eyes were level with shoulders, stocky, and they danced up to a face. All I saw was the blonde hair and I flung myself away from him, smacking right into another person. That one shouted an obscenity. A small hand gripped my braid and ripped me downward. Nails were on my throat, clawing and I reacted in kind, flinging two hands out and fisting them into the girl's black hair.

All I could think was that he was laughing. He laughed when mommy clawed at his face. Suddenly, it was blonde hair threaded in my knuckles, and the teenage girl's dusky and freckled face was that of his. He had my braid and was yank, yank, yanking it. Those squeals escaping his mouth were strangely high pitched when I moved a shaking hand to his throat, almost too slender for him, and the fingers cramped shut.

Vines wrapped around my waist, pulling me from him. Around me there was a flurry of white uniformed caretakers. I struggled free, but the vines tightened and crushed me against the warm wall. A voice was in my ear, muttering something I barely caught before Darius ripped me from the hedge; "Watch out for isolation."

Isolation? I screamed incoherently at the sight of the needle. The girl with the black hair was wiggling uselessly in Thresh's thick arms. "Clove! Settle down this instant!" Effie voices snapped me back. There was a moment, as Darius pulled me roughly from the open area back to the roomed hallway, where I glimpse the boy with the blonde hair – there was something awful about the sight of him, the uneven, ravished, red scars crawling up his arms and across his hands and lacing up one side of his neck. But his eyes were blue. He did not have blue eyes, I knew, and I went slack in Darius' arms.

I was put into my room for a good ten minutes before Effie came to me. She had plenty to scold about and told me gently that I should not run. There are people here who take everything as a threat. Clove's multi-personality disorder was a sensitive thing. "You're lucky Peeta was the one you ran into," she said, more to herself than me. "Marvel would have certainly reacted differently, and Cato would have tried to break your neck. Oh, what a mess. Warden Coin will be most upset with you. She works hard to keep this place in tip-top shape, you know!"

Watch out for isolation. I found a question worth asking. "Will she put me in isolation?"

Effie's finely plucked and bleached eyebrows drew tight. "Isolation? No. Of course not. We don't hold such barbaric traditions in Panem. We are a family. Tomorrow morning you will be joining the group therapy session and both you and Clove will formally apologize for what happened tonight."

There was a long silence. I stared at my hands, a finger tracing the path up my wrist to my pointed finger – the same scars he had. He lied. There was no isolation. He lied. That was a red flag. He could not be trust. Nor could Darius. Nor Clove.

"Katniss, is that clear?"

Effie. I liked her clicking. Not her voice. I managed a dip of my chin, meeting her stare. "Crystal."