Safe and Sound

NOTE: I know it annoys you guys when I post a picture of 'what characters look like', but this is kind of how I imagine Grayson. You can picture him completely differently, whether if it is the length of his hair or the shape of his nose. I don't mind. It's your imagination and it's just my words. Use that imagination of yours :)

PART ONE - THE FLAME
Chapter One - Dead and Gone

I stood over the small, cheap gravestone that belonged to my eight year old sister, Rose. She was dead and I didn't want her to be. She had been one of the only people who loved me and I loved her. A tear trickled down my cheek as I laid down a small, slightly withered Katniss flower in front of the grave, giving it that small bit of colour. Katniss Everdeen had been my sister's hero, so I wanted her to have Katniss in her heart, even now. My mother had gone home before me, because she needed to go and 'look after my father' while I went out to get him food. I was hoping I could snatch a rabbit today, my dad liked rabbit.

I reached out and touched the gravestone of my younger sister. I stroked the rather choppy, carved letters in the grey stone and more tears slipped down my cheeks. I couldn't help it. I hadn't cried in a while, but now the pain was just unbearable, hacking away at me as if it held a sword. My sister was dead, my father was seriously ill, very close to death. My mother couldn't seem to bare it and I was breaking slowly inside and out.

Soon, meaning in two days, the Hunger Games were going to begin and the two tributes from each District were going to be chosen. My name was going into the bowl twenty-five times. I had had my name put in five times per reaping and so it had added up. It probably wasn't the most times someone has ever had their name put in, but it seemed like quite a lot to me.

I found this event sick and disgusting. It was practically manslaughter. What made it worse was the fact that it was all for entertainment and as some form of sick punishment, reminding us of the rebellion all those years ago. My father's aunt, my great aunt, got picked one year. Sadly, she died on the second day because she got a knife to the heart. My family was known throughout District 12 for being really unlucky, as proved by almost all of the family before me. Most of them died young, either out of hunger, disease or mining disasters. Some of them even killed themselves, which made me shudder at the thought. My little sister was the most recent and my father seemed to have accidently inhaled fumes from the mine that he shouldn't have, resulting in his weakness and almost certain death. I knew he was being slowly poisoned, every breath he took was slowly eating him away.

Taking one last look at the gravestone and withered katniss flower, I turned on my heel and walked away, wiping the tears from my face as I made my way through District 12. I finally found the weak spot in the fence and, with a quick glance about, snuck underneath the weak, wire mesh. I instantly felt free. I was free. Well, for a little while at least.

I made my way towards the forest and found my wooden bow that I had stashed up a tree. I climbed up it and took it out of the small hole in the trunk of the tree, also throwing my quiver over my back. I undid my high ponytail and braided my hair into a side plait, so there were no stray hairs in my face. However, this didn't work. I always had stray bits of hair everywhere, no matter how much I brushed it. I left my hair in its messy side plait and adjusted myself in the tree. With a deep sigh and one last, swift tear wipe-away, I jumped down form the tree and nocked an arrow into the bowstring and started walking, slowly and carefully, as to not scare game.

It took little over fifteen minutes before I spotted a rabbit. It was quite plump and actually quite big. It was so big, I sighed. My father would love this rabbit, I thought to myself as I walked, and so would I. I was about to shoot the rabbit through the heart, but something got it first. The rabbit writhed around for a bit, before it went still. I gasped and ran towards the rabbit, my bow lowered. It had walked right into a (quite awfully made) snare. No matter how awful the snare, the rabbit had gotten tangled up in the messed up wires and it had cut off its circulation and breathing instantly. Whoever had made that snare was lucky, the rabbit could have escaped if it wasn't so overweight. I looked about, wanting to know who had stolen my game. I narrowed my eyes, but I needn't look far. Somebody jumped out of a nearby bush, causing me to jump slightly.

"Leave it. It's mine." He said, but he didn't sound very scary. He sounded as if he was straining to sound brave, but really he was scared. This boy had a thick mop of messy brown hair atop his head, most likely from hunting for a while, and was somewhat pale, like me. His messy hair was slightly lighter than mine, but only just. He seemed quite nice, but he looked hungry and he seemed to be quite thin, but not quite as frail as I was. He looked around my age, perhaps a little older, but it wasn't his pale looks or his messy, hunter's hair that made me freeze. It was his eyes. They were a startling greenish-blue and they looked as if they had seen a lot of pain, death and things they shouldn't have, but they were such beautiful eyes, I wouldn't want them to have seen that pain, they seemed too innocent and too good to have been traumatised already.

"I was going to shoot it first." I managed to argue, "It was for my dying father." I then glared at this boy, who instantly looked very apologetic. I never used the topic of my father to win something or get game, but now seemed like a time when I would have to. It had been ages since my father had tasted rabbit. Nice, plump, meaty rabbit...

"Take it." The boy then said. I blinked. What? Was he mad?

"But it was your snare, I couldn't." I then said. I wanted the rabbit as much as my father would, but it wouldn't be fair to steal game from someone else, especially if it was going to be the family dinner. I wasn't like that. It would be unfair, after all, he did catch it. I was just acting ignorant and jealous because I didn't shoot it in time.

"We could always share, I suppose," The boy then suggested. My mouth fell open, "Well, I could always just take it myself and you won't get fed tonight, but-" I didn't want to share with him, what if he had a big family? What if he had younger siblings?

"No, I insist. Take it. It was your trap and I'm sure your family need it more than mine do. I'll find another rabbit and I'll actually shoot it this time." I said, giving my bow a little wave. The boy knitted his eyebrows together.

"But your dying father, wouldn't he-" He started, but I cut the boy off.

"I insist."

"What's your name?" The boy then asked as he released the dead rabbit from its wired trap and draped its frail body over his arm. I looked at the boy curiously. He was ever so slightly taller than me, but only by an inch or two. His eyes stared into mine as he watched me, evidently wanting to know who I was.

"Harper Anselin." I answered, slightly curious as to why he was asking for my name. "And you?" The boy seemed to smile at my name slightly. Did he find it funny or did he like it? I couldn't tell and frankly, I didn't want to. It was as if he recognised it from somewhere or he knew who I was but had never known my name and was now happy to know it. That would be rather queer for me to be quite honest, I didn't do friends and I didn't think anybody would want to know my name.

"Grayson Stengard. It's spelt with a 'g', even though it is actually a 'j' sound." Grayson explained, as if I wanted to know how to spell his name or something. Even so, I recognised his name somewhat. He might have been in my year at school, but I definitely didn't recognise him from anywhere else, if that was the case. Grayson seemed to read my thoughts. "I've seen you around in school, but I never knew your name. I think you're in my year."

"Oh, that's probably quite likely, you being in my year, I mean. So, okay...Grayson? Well, I'll be off. Um, see you around I guess. May the odds be ever in your favour, seeing as it was nice of you to offer to share your kill." With that, I turned around and ran in the opposite direction, trying my hardest to get away from the boy. I didn't like the boy. Yes, he was kind and he had offered to share his game with me, but no, I didn't want to accept it and become attached with him. Attachment always results in pain. It always has and always will. People repelled me and I repelled them. Friendship and love was hard for me to learn and do, and I just refused. I couldn't risk becoming attached, I was awful when it came to losing someone and if I lost that person...I would just break, like I had done the night when I came home to see my little sister lying still in her bed, dead.

With bad thoughts and angry comments swirling around in my head, I hunted, but I missed almost every time, which made me frustrated. I couldn't just miss like that. I never missed. After another half an hour of missing everything I shot at, I gave up, put my bow and arrows away and went home, deciding that we would have to go hungry. I now wished I hadn't turned that Grayson boy's offer down, but I didn't regret it as such, it showed that I had concern for other people. But it was so stupid of me to do so, my actions ensured that my father was going to get weaker and closer to death.

With the anger for myself boiling in my blood, I stormed towards my small home. I was about to open the door, when I noticed something by my foot. I looked down to see something wrapped in cloth. I bent down and picked it up, then gasped. It was the rabbit, still warm from being cooked. Beside the cooked rabbit there were small leaves for seasoning. I could have cried if I wasn't so happy. I knew exactly who had put it there. I decided I would thank him tomorrow at school, that is, if he was there.

I opened my door and walked through my house until I found my father's bedroom. My mother wasn't sitting with him, meaning she was probably downstairs mending something or trying to find food in the empty cupboards.

I went up to my father's bed and sat down on the end of it. My father looked at me curiously. I held out the cloth with the rabbit laid on it. My father weakly reached out and took it, his hands and arms shaking as he strained to move. I helped him sit up slightly so that he could eat comfortably. As my father took a small bite, I pressed a single finger to my lips.

"Don't tell mother, she would never let you have a whole rabbit. Eat, father. Eat and regain your strength for me." I whispered. My father took a long while to eat the small piece of rabbit he had bitten off, but eventually he swallowed it and gave me what seemed to be a satisfied grin. He ate a bit more, but eventually he gave up. He was too weak to finish off the rabbit. He pointed to me, but I shook my head.

"This is yours, I will put it away for you. Don't worry about me or mother, we'll be fine for tonight. I want you to have this whole rabbit. It will help you get better." I said to him, reaching out and squeezing his right hand, while wiping off a leaf from the side of his mouth. My father nodded slightly and tried to say something, but it seemed to hurt him, so he stopped. I sighed and rubbed soothing circles on the back of his hand, "Don't worry, sometimes silence speaks the loudest. Anyway, I've got to go now. Bye father, keep the rabbit hidden from everybody." I then leaned forwards and kissed his forehead, before getting up and walking towards the door. I looked back at my exhausted father, before shutting the door quietly behind me.

With a heavy heart, I turned and walked down the short corridor and back down the stairs, towards the kitchen. My mother was making some sort of carrot soup, which would barely be able to feed one person let alone two.

"Did you kill anything?" She asked without even turning to face me. I stared at her bony back for about five seconds, before I replied.

"No. Not a thing, I guess there wasn't much game because people are feeding their children up for the reaping by hunting illegally." I answered, lying through my teeth. It felt awful to be lying to my mother, but I had to. If she knew about the rabbit, she would probably eat it for herself. She could sometimes be quite selfish in that way, especially since little Rose's death. I guess it had hurt her more than she decided to show and sometimes the grief of losing a child would be too much and she would instantly become quite selfish and self-contained. Rose was always my mother's favourite, it was quite obvious at times. I didn't mind too much, but it felt a bit sad, thinking that I wasn't appreciated equally. Maybe it was because Rose was younger, but mother always had given Rose more food, the better material for clothes and, for her eight birthday, she had been given a beautiful, blood red ribbon. It was silky and the colour of most roses. When Rose had passed on, mother had kept the ribbon as a small memoir, to remember the happiness and joy Rose had inflicted upon this family. I had loved Rose, she was the flower that made the weeds look brighter and more beautiful.

"Not a thing? That's unlike you. Anyway, because you speak of it, when's the reaping? It's soon, isn't it, or so I've heard." Mother said, turning to me. She held a chipped, wooden spoon in one hand and a chopped carrot in the other.

"Two days." I replied, sitting down in one of the four kitchen chairs. Only two were currently in use, one for me and one for my mother.

"I guess I better give you some more food, then. I don't want you going into the Capitol looking like a skeleton. Honestly, I could probably cut myself by holding your wrist." My mother said, rather spitefully. I was frail, yes, but I didn't look quite like a skeleton as such. My wrists weren't that thin and my ribs weren't too prominent.

"It's likely that I might not get chosen." I whispered to no one in particular, "But saying that, you probably wouldn't notice if I did."