The Girl With the Blue Braids

It was cold, and I was starting to get hungry. But that wasn't the worst part of this whole thing.

It's the Hunger Games. And I'm stuck in it.

A day before, I was in the Capitol being presented to the spectators. Now, the only thing left of this previous version of myself is the fancy updo my stylists made. I'm not sure how they did it, but I'd felt beautiful - despite the horrible hand I'd been dealt. Anyways, they didn't bother changing my hair to throw me in this hell hole, and I didn't bother taking it out.

Of course, they probably thought my hair would be less of a distraction if it was up. Ever since I was twelve, I've died my hair a light blue. There's something about having hair the same color of the sea that makes me feel like I'm strong and free - like a wave crashing on the shore. My parents didn't love it at first, but eventually they came to see it as a part of who I am. Or who I was, as the case may be.

Stupid Hunger Games. Stupid Capitol. Stupid everything.

Anyways, my hair hasn't seemed to give away my hiding spot yet. I'm situated in a tree branch about ten feet off the ground. Better than nothing, I suppose. You'd think that after years of having Hunger Games held in forests they'd change it up a bit, but I guess the Capitol enjoys being a huge cliche.

After a while, I get tired of hiding out in this tree. I'm more of the confrontational type. Must be that free spirit in me; I always have to be moving.

So, without too much difficulty for having never climbed a tree before, I slide down to the forest floor. I was fortunate to have grabbed a pack of supplies before clearing out from the cornocopia. It doesn't have too much in it, but at least I have a knife and some food along with a full water bottle.

Well, it looks like my Hunger Games won't start just yet.

I reach into my pack and take a bite of some dried fruit, making a special effort to be quiet as I walk through the forest. It's not long before I hear the sound of running, and I have to retreat into the safety of the branches again. Good thing I'm nimble.

Anyways, I watch from the comfort of my branch as a boy runs past my tree, but suddenly stops to face his pursuer.

And I don't know why, but his face sticks out to me for some reason.

He has golden blonde hair, and a face that portrays innocence. But I can see in his eyes and expression that he's not innocent at all - or rather the exact opposite.

"Ready to die, Mellark?" a girl says, laughing. I'm somewhat surprised to see that it was a female pursuing him, because the boy looks pretty built from my vantage point. But a closer look at the girl reveals that she's tougher than I initially thought. Her arms are toned, and she looks bloodthirsty. Clearly she's a career tribute. And, in my opinion, there are only two ways to defeat a career tribute: overpowering them...

Or the element of surprise.

Which do you suppose I'd be more likely to utilize?

"Not quite yet," he says, dodging her jabs and punches. That's when it hits me - neither of them have weapons. He can't dodge those punches for long; she's obviously well trained. District one or two is probably responsible for that...maybe I should have paid more attention during training and my time in the Capitol.

Oh well, better make the best of what I've got.

"Move, boy!" I yell, falling from my tree onto the girl's back. Before she can process my appearance, I whip out my dagger and stab her. All I can hear for a moment is her blood-curdling cry, echoing throughout the trees. The sound continues to ring in my ears as she falls forward. I jump off of her, pulling my dagger out of her flesh.

"One down...a million to go..." I mutter to myself, suddenly remembering the boy with the golden hair. My first thought is to run, but as I look up at him my worries relax a bit. He doesn't look hostile, but rather more surprised and curious. Not excactly helpful emotions in these games.

"What are you looking at?" I say, snarling at him. Looks like my animal instincts are coming out already.

"You saved me," he says, returning my stare without hesitation. Well at least he has courage.

"Actually, you're next," I say, holding up my knife. As I say the words, I know don't mean them. There's something about this boy that feels familiar.

"How about we do something more productive instead - alliance?" he asks as if it's a casual thing. It's my turn to be surprised, unsure of my decision. I hadn't thought about an alliance - only killing as quickly as possible. But as I hold his stare, I know that I can't kill him.

At least not yet.

"I guess that would be alright for now," I say, holding out my hand. As he shakes it in agreement, a chill passes through me. There is something about this boy that I should remember.

But I just can't seem to grasp it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Why are you still staring at me?" I ask, glaring at Peeta from across our small fire. He says he's from District twelve, and that he's a baker. He remembers little else from back home, other than that he has a family.

"I can't help but feel like I know you from somewhere," he says, continuing to stare.

"Of course you do, we met in the Capitol."

"It's not that...I feel like I should know more about you. We have met before that."

"Don't be rediculous," I say, turning my attention to cooking the two small fish I managed to capture. But I can't help but feel the same way - like my memory is missing.

And that's when it hits me.

"How could I be so stupid!" I say, aggravated. I knew I should have remembered more details from the Capitol and about my life. I don't even remember my mother's name for crying out loud!

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"The Capitol must have taken our memories. As a way to make the games more interesting," I say, fury building inside of me. Peeta ponders this, and then nods.

"I think you're right. I can't remember what my room looked like at home. I should know that," he says, accepting the realization calmly. Unlike me.

"I hate this so much!" I say, clenching my fists in frustration.

"I know. Try not to take it out on our dinner," he says, refering to the fish I'm squeezing a little too hard. I try to relax, but I can only feel anguish.

"The one thing we get to bring here with us, and the Capitol gets to take that too," I say, biting the inside of my cheek. I try to picture my mother's face, but my mind comes up blank. Before I can stop it, hot tears are rolling down my face.

"Don't cry, Alana," he says, coming around the fire to hold me as I sob. I don't remember ever telling him my name. And suddenly, I have a flashback.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Peeta, how could this happen? Despite all odds, both of us are here in the Capitol. We'll never have a life beyond these games ever again, do you realize that!" I say, yelling in his face. As usual, he takes in my emotional outburst calmly.

"I know this sucks. But we can't change it. Let's just enjoy the time we have left instead of getting angry," he says, brushing the hair out of my face. His caring gesture only makes me sadder, and the tears have started before I can bury my face in his shoulder. As he holds me tightly, I hear him quietly whisper to me.

"Don't cry, Alana."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When the flashback has ended, I can see in his eyes that he saw the same memory. Just days before, he held me like this. And I still feel just as hopeless. But now, at least I know him.

"Your father used to deliver fish to District twelve. And you have tagged along since you were a child. You love to travel," he says, smiling fondly at me.

"And your father was our best customer," I say, taking his hand in mine.

"I never really liked fish, but I always liked seeing you," he says, leaning in closer to me. I close the gap between us, and the next few moments are perfect. It's just me and him, alone in the world. The kiss is full of desperation, and longing for what could have been. We always hoped that someday we would be allowed to be together, despite our differing districts.

But it was never meant to be, was it?

"Alana," he murmers, pulling away from me. I pull him back to me, unable to resist. I feel like these could be our last moments like this - together.

And how right I was.

Suddenly, there's a noise behind us. We pull apart, but it's too late to defend ourselves. I feel the arrow in my neck, but only for a fleeting moment. As the world around me goes dark, I feel grateful for the one last moment I got with him. My memories somehow come flowing back to me, flashing before my eyes. I see images of the past, present, and the future I always wanted.

I guess that's the consolation prize I get for being a victim of the games.