On my third day on the Island, I decided to take a trip into the town centre. Partly due to embarrassment and partly due to curiosity, I chose to walk the 5 kilometres into town. Judging from my earlier interactions with Madge and Rye, I figured I'd draw enough attention by just being me – the new girl - hence not needing to increase that attention with my clunky car. I also figured I'd get a better look at the place if I was on foot.

I had to admit there was something refreshing about the seascape as I walked. I appreciated the soft and salty breeze that was present even when I walked the residential streets of the Island. The ever present sound of crashing waves was also very calming; it felt like you had company even when you were alone. The sun also seemed to cast a perpetual warm glow, giving an air cheeriness to the place. I didn't know exactly where I was going, however I walked in the vague direction of the town centre. The Island was small enough that I'd eventually find my way there, and a long walk had never bothered me before.

As I made my way closer in, the population density slowly increased. I still found it bizarre that apparently the Mellarks and Haymitch were so separated. That even on an Island so small, few people lived near them.

I passed people walking dogs, children playing hopscotch and teenagers skateboarding down the streets. I tried to ignore the fact that nearly all their eyes watched me as I went on my way. I'd never been an outsider before. It was an odd experience that I wasn't sure I ever wanted to repeat again.

I didn't have much of a plan of where to go in the town, but when I saw the sign for Mellark's bakery I figured that was as good a place as any to begin. I wasn't quite sure why my neighbour had sent me here but I could use some breakfast anyway. Effie's concern about the Mellark's sounded in the back of my mind as I approached along with Haymitch's outrage about it. I wasn't sure what the issue was with the Mellark's but I wondered whether visiting the bakery could give me insight into it.

It was a quaint looking place with large lettering on the front reading the family's last name. It reminded me of those old school bakeries you'd see in children's books, the kind I used to read to her when we were younger. A bell rattled as I opened the door, and there was a jolly looking man inside ready to greet me, clad in a white apron.

"Welcome! You must be Katniss."

While I should have expected it from my experience yesterday with Madge and Rye, I was still slightly taken aback by his ability to know exactly who I was.

"Mr. Mellark?" I guessed.

He nodded, with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You got me. How'd you know?"

I smiled slightly. "I met your son, Rye, yesterday."

"You're living next door at Haymitch's?" He asked and I nodded. "Well, I guess you'll get to know him well then." His face was suddenly impassive and I couldn't read his expression. His tone was neutral but there was an emotion in there I couldn't put my finger on. It was strange.

"Does that make us neighbours then?" I assumed Rye and Peeta lived in the fancy house that belonged to their father.

He shook his head, his face warming with a small smile again. He pointed toward the ceiling, "I live in the apartment above. Makes it easier for those 4am starts, you know?"

I chose not to voice my thought that it didn't seem that difficult to drive the ten minutes to the bakery each morning.

"What can I get you Katniss?"

Shifting my attention, I scanned the selection in the bakery. Sitting in glass cabinets, there were rows upon rows of immaculate looking baked goods. There seemed to be everything I could imagine, from beautifully crafted cupcakes and slices to simple but delicious looking baguettes with names I'd never heard of. It was a far cry from our small bakery at home, where you had two choices of a loaf of bread: white and wholemeal. Maybe a seeded loaf. In fact, one time they made a dark rye as a special and it was, genuinely, the talk of the town for the week.

Mr Mellark, sensing my confusion, asked "I can give you a recommendation if you like? Sweet or savoury?"

"Savoury." I said without hesitation.

He walked to the right of a cabinet pulling out a plump, golden bun with what looked like melted cheese on top.

"A cheese bun." He placed it into a bag, printed with an ornate 'M', and handed it to me. "It's my son's speciality. Go on, try it."

He inclined his head toward me, gesturing for me to take a bite. While I felt a little awkward, I complied. I ripped part of the bun off and popped it into my mouth. It could, quite possibly, be the best thing I'd ever eaten. It seemed to melt on my tongue, the richness of the cheese going perfectly with the fresh taste of bread.

"That's delicious." I said, trying to hold back the drool in my mouth. "What do I owe you?"

He shook his head. "On the house. Consider it a gift. A cheese bun a day keeps the problems away."

My lips quirked at the bad joke, maybe Effie needed some of that to quell her fears. Mr Mellark, for the record, seemed harmless. I was curious, though, that he didn't live next door to Haymitch's with his sons on an island this small. However, I guess it wasn't Mr Mellark Effie seemed so concerned about, it was the brothers.

Mr Mellark and I bid our farewells and I stepped back onto the street, devouring the remainder of the bun. Good god, how did they make those? Haymitch had given me a card with cash loaded onto it when I'd arrived. I had the feeling that the majority of that money would end up being spent on cheese buns.

I surveyed the street, wondering where my next stop would be. I chose a direction and just began walking. I noticed how pretty the pavement was in the inner streets of the town. It was a beige coloured cobblestone. It was laid immaculately, guiding the way between the stores in the town centre.

As I filtered between the stores of the town, I happened upon what seemed to be an outdoor market. Rows and rows of stalls lined what usually seemed to be a road, except it was blockaded off from the regular traffic. I wondered whether this was a summer thing. This was the first thing in the town that made me feel slightly more comfortable. Everything else on this Island was pristine, perfect and while this market was beautifully laid out on the carefully sculpted pavement, it reminded me enough of our local market at home to bear some comfort. I began wandering down the stalls looking at the wares.

I slowed down as I approached a jewellery stall. The lady behind the stall looked old and withered. She wore a colourful scarf that wrapped her hair and she was dripping in all sorts of jewellery, no doubt her own creations. The stall table was filled with silver jewellery and what seemed to be olive branches were hung from the ends of the table. My eyes were drawn to a corner of the table that held bracelets and necklaces. They contained blue stones, some with pearls as well, and each had a pendant in the shape of a hand or an eye.

"You could use some protection."

I jerked my gaze to meet the older woman's gaze. Her eyes were steel grey and I felt a bizarre feeling as I stared into them. There were years of stories behind those eyes.

She reminded vaguely of another woman back home. She had been a similar age and terribly frail. She had read tarot cards and could claim to tell people's fortunes. Everyone had regarded her as old and senile. The farming families of the town had no time for such things.

"What?" I asked. What did that mean? I needed protection?

"These pieces are the hamsa and evil eye. It's an ancient tradition, they protect the wearer against evil. These ones here also have a pearl from this very Island, to increase the protection for this location."

I should know better than to put stock into an old lady's delusions but I couldn't help myself as I asked, "To protect against what evil specifically?"

"The evil that plagues us here on the Island. Every year, strange occurrences happen. People go missing out at sea. If they come back, they're never quite the same. We can't escape it. We can only do our best to protect from it."

I frowned as I stared at the jewellery. I guess it wasn't completely odd for people to go missing at sea, but the way she said it sounded like too common an occurrence to be normal. My logical mind said that there was no way that a bunch of twisted metal and semi-precious stones could protect against evil forces. Hell, my logical mind even denied the existence of those evil forces. Yet my brain briefly recalled that odd experience on the beach with unease.

"I'll think about it." I said to the woman before moving onto the next stall. I heard her mutter something as I moved on, that I wasn't quite sure if I heard right. I made my way down the rest of the market stalls. I passed homemade soaps, infused olive oils, wines, other jewellery and plants. I spied a beautiful plant that I could imagine placing in the corner of my room, but I still felt odd about spending Haymtich's money even though he said it was mine. I passed on the plant and kept walking.

I soon grew tired of browsing and cut my way across a few streets to find a park bench overlooking the ocean. I sat down heavily. My thoughts slowed down as I looked out to the ocean, which lately was proving to be a bad idea. When my mind was less busy it left it more vulnerable.

Flashes of memories flickered before my eyes. I saw my old home, the wooden logs of my family's house. The mattress my sister and I shared on the floor, covered in a pink checked sheet that I absolutely hated but she loved. She'd trace her fingers along the pattern time and time again when she'd wake up early in the morning. And then I saw her face. Her eyes shining with glee and her mouth pulled into a grin, exposing her naturally straight teeth. And then I heard the crackle of fire. It slowly got louder and louder until it felt like a roaring in my ears. I saw nothing but flames and felt myself begin to hyperventilate. I immediately squeezed my eyes shut, rubbing my fists roughly into them to get rid of the image. It took some effort, but gradually the sound died down again too until I could hear the seagulls squawking around me and I opened my eyes again to find the ocean in my view.

It's your fault.

I thought back to the lady at the market stall. She'd said I'd needed protection against evil. But what if the evil was already pervading me? If there were really evil forces in the world, surely after what happened back home, my soul could not have come out clean and unharmed. What if I was damaged? Could she sense that?

I groaned to myself. Stop it. I didn't believe in any of this and I was letting my emotions get the best of me. Fear made you believe in silly things. My world was built on tangible things. It was made up of logic and science.

"Katniss?" A voice interrupted my internal battle. I turned my head and found Madge smiling down at me. I shot her a quick smile, trying to school my face into an easy expression. "What are you doing here?" She asked.

I took a deep breath. "I'd been checking out the market, thought I'd take a break and enjoy the view."

She nodded, slowly sitting down on the bench next to me. "Find anything you like?"

I shook my head. "Just wanted to look. I did try a cheese bun from the bakery though."

She smiled at me and then looked out to the ocean. "Do you want to get lunch tomorrow? I can show you all the good places to eat."

"Um, sure." Her offer had caught me a little off guard. While I'd never been a particularly social person, I had the feeling I had to work a little harder here. It probably wouldn't be helpful to be a recluse, although I probably wouldn't mind too much. But Madge Undersee seemed like a good person to befriend.

She smiled warmly at my acceptance. "Great, I'll swing by your house at 12."

000-

The next day, Madge picked me up in a small Audi convertible that was luxurious enough for royalty, in my opinion. A chain with an evil eye pendant hung from her rear view mirror, the same ones I'd seen in the market. We sped towards the town centre with the canopy down, allowing the sun to bathe us in its rays and the wind to flow through our hair. After a lifetime of living on the Island, she had natural highlights throughout her long blonde hair. It hung down her back like a stream of liquid gold. It made me slightly self-conscious about my own hair. In fact, everything about Madge made me slightly uncomfortable. It was in no way her fault, she'd been nothing but kind, but the more time I spent with her the more I realized how different our two worlds – and our two personalities – were.

"This is Greasy Sae's." She said as she gestured toward a café that sat on the main street. "Unappetizing name, I know, but it's your best option for a home cooked meal around here."

It was a simple looking café – much simpler than the bakery – with an island counter and stools looking out the front window and larger tables scattered throughout the floor inside. It reminded me of one of the few cafes that were in my hometown, however everything was newer, less dated and less worn down.

Despite the small population of the Island and it being the middle of the workday, the café was full of people drinking coffee and eating meals. Bells jangled as Madge opened the door and entered the premises. I noticed a few people looked up. Their eyes quickly grazed over Madge, unsurprised to see the mayor's daughter. Some gave her polite smiles, and seemed to be ready to look away again until they spied me behind her. I wasn't going to say that everyone stared at me, however more than a few pairs of eyes studied me intently. Had no one ever told these people it was rude to stare? While it wasn't exactly hostile, I couldn't consider it friendly either. I tried not to squirm under their strange stares, though my skin prickled as their eyes picked me apart.

The odd stare off seemed to be broken when an older woman behind the counter called out Madge's name and greeted her enthusiastically. She was a little thing – about the size of me – and had thick grey hair tied into a bun on the crown of her head. Lines were etched into the skin of her face, a visual reminder of the years she'd lived. When her eyes met mine, they were not like the others in the café. They were open and warm. Knowing.

"Oh, good you brought her." She said to Madge while she still looked at me. "Hello, Katniss."

It seemed Effie's gossip about me had travelled further than just Madge Undersee. I couldn't say by now I was surprised she knew my name. I also couldn't fathom why she seemed pleased to see me, other than maybe gaining a new customer to turn over profits.

"This is Greasy Sae." Madge piped up.

"Hello." I said.

"It's good to have you here Katniss." She cast her eyes around the room. "Don't mind them, they're not used to a new person. If you ever need a good home cooked meal though, don't be shy to come down here, you understand?"

I hesitantly nodded my head and then she shooed us off to a table. I perused the menu, though I was still hyper aware of the people around me.

"The seafood chowder is her specialty." Madge told me from across the table, her menu already set aside.

I glanced at her and then placed the menu card on the table. "I guess I'll have to try that then."

Greasy Sae approved of my choice. She brought out two big bowls of it with startling promptness.

When I imagined myself having lunch with Madge, I pictured an upmarket eatery with wine glasses and table cloths as we ate fancy plates of salmon sitting on a meagre smear of potato puree. I was pleasantly surprised with this simple affair.

"So you're coming to the BBQ this weekend, right?"

"Oh, um…"

"Madge!" The sharp voice startled me and before I even registered what was happening a new girl slid into the third seat at our table. She had a mess of blonde curls and had a horribly high pitched voice that became worse as she continued to speak with more enthusiasm than anyone should ever have. Then her eyes settled on me. "You must be Katniss!" She exclaimed loudly. "I'm Delly."

"Pleasure to meet you." I tried to inject as much enthusiasm into my voice as I could, however I had never been particularly socially capable, so the sentiment fell flat, even to my ears. Delly didn't notice.

"It's so exciting getting another person around here! It never happens." She prattled on. "Of course you'll be coming to the BBQ this weekend, right?"

"I was just asking her that." Madge interjected in a much milder manner.

"Well what else is she going to do? Everyone will be there."

Sensing that they were having a conversation about me while I was sitting right there, Madge directed her question toward me. "Would you like to come, Katniss?"

I wanted to say no but as I opened my mouth the words would not come forward. Delly was looking at me with expectant eyes and Madge had already been so kind to me, it would be rude to refuse, wouldn't it? How bad could it be? I asked myself.

"Sure, I'll come." I said unconvincingly. Delly squealed and I almost wished I were deaf. Madge simply smiled and said she'd text me the details later as Delly launched into an incredibly detailed description of their plans for the BBQ. I repressed a sigh.

It took about 15 minutes, but eventually Delly had to get back to whatever she had been doing before she interrupted us. My ears corrected themselves back to normal decibel levels once she had left.

"Dell can be a bit much to take in at first." Madge told me apologetically.

"She's very enthusiastic." I noted.

Madge chuckled lightly. "You're very kind."

I averted my eyes, slightly embarrassed. The remainder of lunch ran smoothly. Madge and I spent the time both quizzing each other about each of our lives. I appreciated that while Madge appeared interested, she didn't pry. And while we clearly came from completely different walks of life, she listened to everything I said with genuine curiosity and without judgement.

"I've never been to the beach before actually. Until now." I stated, after describing the green forest landscape of my home.

"Never?" She asked in disbelief.

I shook my head. "My home was very rural. It was too far to travel to the beach."

She nodded in understanding. "Well, how do you find all of this then? It can be…a lot." She said, gesturing broadly around her.

"What do you mean?"

"As I'm sure you've seen, we're a small community here. I suppose it's not so different from your home. Everyone knows everyone. There are no secrets. It can get annoying."

I nodded. My home had been similar in the size of the community, however the geographical distance between everyone had been large. The residents of my hometown had space, and while news did travel, they weren't constantly in each other's business. The Island's space here was more limited. And in general, everyone here seemed more nosy.

"And," Madge continued, "We're an old community. People are born and bred here, they don't tend to leave. There are lots of stories that are passed down through the generations. Superstitions. They run rampant through the Island. People lose their minds about it, honestly."

"What kind of superstitions?" I remembered Haymtich throwing that word around when he'd been reprimanding Effie for spreading gossip. The old lady at the market stall also came to mind.

She laughs and shakes her head. "Oh, just silly things. Evil things happening if you leave, people being cursed out on the ocean." She laughed. "They're not worth your time really."

My first instinct was to laugh along with her. But against my will, my mind dredged up that creepy moment out by the cliffs at the beach and the words of the old woman. It was a trick of the wind, Katniss. Did the people here believe that the ocean had a special sort of power? Like her, I wasn't a superstitious person. I also didn't believe in curses or any other type of voodoo-witch-stuff. Somehow, it didn't surprise me that the people of the Island might, though.

The rest of our lunch was filled with general conversation. She told me about the various stores and things throughout the town. She also told me about a common hangout place that she and her friends often went to near the pier.

She drove me back to the house with the roof down again, the wind whipping my hair. I closed my eyes for a while as we drove, and took in the sensation.

Back at Haymitch's, I slammed the car door and watched Madge speed off, back toward the populated area of the town.

"They worked quickly with you."

I jumped and spun around to find Rye Mellark leaning against his mailbox a few yards from me. He looked the same as the first time I met him. His arm casually rested on top of the mailbox, a few letters clutched lazily in his hand. He had that same flirty smile and twinkle in his eye. Haymitch and Effie's vague warnings echoed in my head as I stared at the blonde and blue eyed man. But the thing was, like his father, Rye Mellark didn't scream dangerous to me. He intrigued me. He was kind of cocky, yet charming. Haymitch and Effie might not give me answers but I had the feeling that Rye Mellark just might.

"What do you mean?" I asked as I walked a few steps toward him.

He jutted his chin in the direction that Madge had left in. "Madge Undersee befriended you."

I glanced back down the road. "Yeah, so? She's nice."

He shrugged. "I don't contest that. She's a lovely girl."

"Then what are you saying?"

He averted his eyes from me, looking off to the side. His fingers tapped lightly on the mailbox as he thought. "The people around here like things a certain way. That's all. Madge is a good influence on you. It makes sense they sent her to you."

My spirits dimmed slightly. Although we were nothing alike, I had liked Madge Undersee. To think that her seemingly genuine kindness and friendship had been a premeditated arrangement by the people of the town unsettled me. However, despite my initial impression, I also questioned the trustworthiness of Rye Mellark. Did he have a motive to lie?

I decided to trust no one just yet. Instead, I asked, "Are you going to the BBQ on the weekend?"

He stared at me blankly for a beat and then laughed sadly. "The Mellark's don't get invited to those things."

"Why not?" I pressed.

Humour still lingered in his eyes, though he looked away from me for a moment as he gathered his words. "Let's just say there was a falling out."

I was beginning to grow tired of the cryptic nature everyone seemed to have on this Island. Was the game just to confuse new people that came here?

"What falling out?" I demanded. Was this the 'trouble' that Haymitch and Effie had warned me about?

He smiled, though it seemed fake. "I'm sure they'll inform you."

"Is this a regular thing? The BBQ?"

He shrugged. "For some of the people."

"But you don't get invited?"

"No."

I bit my lip and my brows furrowed together in thought.

"You'll come to learn the dynamics of the town, Katniss. It's a fucking soap opera out here."

000

I lay my head down on my pillow that night with a torrent of questions rolling in and out of my brain. There was one question in particular I kept coming back to.

Who were the Mellark's?

They were two young men who lived in a strange secluded part of town. The oldest seemed friendly and harmless, albeit horribly arrogant. While the youngest was more of a mystery. Supposedly they were dangerous. That is, if I wanted to listen to people like Effie. And I'm not sure I did.

My mind was busy with worries and questions about the Island that I didn't think I would be able to sleep. However, exhaustion won out and began to envelope my body. My eyes slowly fluttered closed and sleep pulled me under until a scream pierced the air. I shot up in bed and scanned my dark bedroom. I could hear my heart beating in my ears. My eyes blinked, trying to adjust to the dark room as red-tinted images slowly evaporated from my mind. I scrambled across the stupidly big bed to flick on the light. I allowed my eyes to adjust to the light. There was no one else here. It was a dream.

My hands were shaking as I covered my face and then raked them through my hair. I tried to rid the horrible images from my mind. My whole body felt tense and I began to feel incredibly closed in, despite the gargantuan size of my bedroom. I suddenly had the overwhelming feeling that I needed to escape. I hastily grabbed the clothes I'd worn that day from the floor and hurried out of my room and out of the back door of the house. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I stumbled my way towards the beach. I could hear the loud crashing of the waves, hitting the sand with a rhythmic ferocity. I stumbled onto the sand and then sank down into it, breathing in the salty air. I closed my eyes and listened to the waves, trying to focus on slowing down my breathing.

"Are you okay?"

The voice was deep and mellow but came out of nowhere. It was 4am and I had thought I was alone on the beach. I was caught so off guard I let out a shriek and my panic immediately spiked again.

"Shhhh!" The voice urged me.

My eyes honed in the figure the voice had emanated from. I recognised the sleeve of tattoos on his left forearm. It was the surfer from the beach. Peeta Mellark. My heart sped up even further the moment I locked eyes with him. The words of Effie came back to me. Peeta Mellark is dangerous…stay away from him.

I suddenly became aware of how reckless it was to wander out at night in an unfamiliar place. Anyone could be out here. My muscles tightened, ready to fight or flee.

Now, usually I prided myself on my poker face however my fear must have been obvious because Peeta Mellark's brow furrowed and then he breathed out an aggressive sigh of frustration.

"They've gotten to you already". He muttered it under his breath so quietly, I barely caught it. He held his palms up in the air, in the universal 'I surrender' gesture. His eyes were wide and pleading. "Look, you're safe. I'm not going to hurt you. I just…" he sighed in frustration again, "I just wanted to make sure you're okay. It's a bit weird for you to be out here at 4am, you know?"

"Why are you then?" My voice trembled and was breathless. Damn panic attacks.

He didn't answer. Instead, he sat down on the sand, though he left a good metre, maybe a metre and a half between us. His arms hugged his knees.

"Sometimes when I feel like that," he nodded his head toward me, indicating my body melting into a puddle of anxiety, "I sit out here and just listen to the ocean. It helps me. Just be with the sounds… watch what the waves look like as they roll in and out of the beach…try and sense the smell of the ocean…feel the sand beneath my fingers…" He continued talking about the sensory experience of the beach. I knew what he was doing. There was something awfully familiar about what he was saying. I listened to his words and slowly my heart began to slow slightly. My muscles still felt tense, however the intense feeling that I was going to die began to dissipate.

Still, though, I couldn't help but become aware that I was alone in the dark with someone who multiple people had told me to stay away from. He'd said he wouldn't hurt me. Is that what criminals told their victims before they attacked them?

Yet as my panic eased and I took in the sight of Peeta Mellark, I didn't feel threatened. He was careful to give me space as we sat on the sand and he wasn't even looking at me. He was staring out at the ocean with a pensive look in his eyes.

Who are you? I wondered.

His eyes suddenly snapped back toward me, his stare intense on my face. I was startled and suddenly became more flustered.

"Um, thank…thank you." My eyes flitted back to the house, a ways up the path. Even if I didn't feel immediately threatened at this moment, I decided to heed the warnings of the others. For now. Self-preservation, I suppose. I didn't realise I had any of that left. "I should probably head back now."

Peeta Mellark regarded me with a sense of curiosity as I rose from my seated position, and then something shifted in his expression, his eyes turning darker. He then turned back to face toward the ocean.

"I suppose that's smart." He said quietly. "Wouldn't want to be caught out alone here with a murderer." He said the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. His expression turned to one of disdain. I was shocked by the admission. He said it as if I already knew. He'd assumed this is what the others had told me about him. They hadn't. "I'll see you later." He said.

With that, I left, walking my way back toward the back door of the house. I resisted the urge to glance over my shoulder, as if he would run up behind me and take me out. I didn't know what to make of what he had just said. Is that why people said Peeta Mellark was dangerous? That he was a murderer? But surely a murderer wouldn't out themselves as one, would they? Surely you'd want to keep that information under wraps and not tell random girls you met on the beach. And if he had murdered someone surely he'd be in jail, right? And Haymitch said to not believe the rumours, the more reasonable part of my mind whispered.

Then something else panged in me as I considered the word 'murderer'. And it had nothing to do with Peeta Mellark. My throat suddenly choked up as a wave of guilt hit me. Can you really judge him Katniss, after what you did? An image of rubble and ashes invaded my mind.

I pushed the thought and image out of my mind as quickly as it came. With great effort, I refocused my mind on Peeta Mellark. I guessed I had just gained another piece to this puzzle. The town had shunned Peeta Mellark as he had supposedly murdered someone. The question was who had he murdered?