Sixteen years I've walked this earth. My friends in the Capitol know nothing of my past, just as my friends – and enemies – back in Four know nothing of my present. I disappeared one day and never came back. They'll never see me again.
Except one. I remember that day like no other.
I was thirteen, and I was out buying milk so my mom could make dinner. In the Capitol, you don't have to cook for yourself, but Mom wanted to. She sometimes still made bread like the stuff we had home in Four, instead of the pure white stuff they have here.
It was around four o'clock in the afternoon. I hadn't really thought about it, but the reapings had just happened in the Districts, so I was only slightly surprised when a tribute train rolled past me on my way home. The number 4 was painted on the front and back of each car in sea green, and I knew this train came from home.
Involuntarily, I looked up at the windows. The train was slowing down, and I knew I was near the station. That allowed me to get a good look at the two tributes – a blond girl I didn't know, and a dark-haired boy from my grade. Mikhail. My best friend.
We locked eyes for a moment, and he gave a terse nod of recognition, which I returned. Later that night, I tried to get out onto the streets to see the parade, the opening ceremonies, but my mom wouldn't let me. Nor did she let me go to the interviews. She didn't want me to get caught up in the Games, to love something my father died for.
Instead, I watched in silence as Mikhail was bludgeoned to death.