No stranger would it be.

1

District 12 is breathtakingly beautiful during the autumn. The concrete roads, which were

earlier just ruts, are crowded up by withered yellow leaves and flowers which rustle with the breeze. Our driveway back in the Victor's Village is brightened up with violet primroses, later to be carefully collected by Prim. Although the mines are closed now, the air is tinged with the coarse hum of the rocks mingling with a tang of bittersweet smell from the medicines. The mockingjays all around sing, their beautiful melody containing remnants of the song sung by some girl sixteen years ago. And there is no foliage in the woods for game to hide.

We don't need the money from my hunting anymore, but these hunts are my only

moments of solitude. I ceased doing it for a couple of years, but after a few years found myself longing the thrill of hunting game. I admit that I was a little rusty at first, but I gradually found my competence and soon I could again take dead aim at the eye of a bird in complete darkness. Since there is no Hob left to sell game, I take it home and hand it over to Peeta to whip it up into something delicious.

Peeta owns a bakery in the market a little remove from our house. Chubby little Finnick likes to spend most of his time in the bakery with Peeta. We all are amused as he adorably sticks his head into a cake and then lifts his head to reveal a frosting- covered grinning face. Peeta comes in with a stern look on his face, but upon glancing at the cute little boy still licking frosting off his face, bursts out laughing. Prim looks disgusted.

The questions about those times are just starting. We know that one day we have to tell

them, tell them why I still wake up screaming at nights and why Peeta sometimes stares into nothingness, tormenting turmoils surfacing from the depths of the oceans of his blue eyes, reminders of something lost and something gained.

"Catnip."

I turn. He is standing there, having arrived without making a noise, his hands awkwardly

in his pockets, very unlike his usual gracious self. I fling myself at him, memories soaring through my head as we cling to each other for what seems like an eternity.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I should've know better." His voice is like honey in my ears.

"I know. Me too."

*************************************************

"So, how have you been?" Gale asks in the effort to cover up the uneasy silence that hangs between us.

We are in the small concrete house beside the lake in the woods after a long hike which

we completed in silence, both of us unable to say anything. It seems as if just yesterday Gale was swinging me in his arms here after I persuaded him to run away with me.

"Can't complain. What about you?" I say stiffly.

"I..." he hesitates. Drawing a deep breath, he continues. " I guess you know that I am the defence secretary of Panem. District 2. Got a lovely wife, two kids..." his voice trails off.

I smile. Kissing another pair of lips. He looks proud of himself. Well, he should be. The office of armed forces was created in Panem shortly after the election of Paylor as President. The defence secretary's job is to advise the president on national strategies and controlling the military. Essentially he controls the security and defence of the entire of Panem.

Three elections have been held since the first elections, all of them won by Paylor. She has recently been focussing on forging relations with other countries, countries we earlier didn't even know existed. The whole of Panem had open-mouthed gaped when Paylor had once shook hands with a tall, dark and smartly dressed individual, who was apparently the President of the United States come to visit Panem. The country has received many offers from other countries proposing to aid in the development of Panem in exchange of our crops, our rocks and our military.

"Yeah, I see enough T.V. to know that." I say.

He grins. It is a grin which lights up all his features, and brings a glint to his eyes, but

there is a dark, foreboding shadow that lurks behind in his gray eyes. He does not look very different, apart from huge muscles and strong sinews that now cover his body. He has military precision in him as he sits taut with his back straight, as if in meeting with someone very important.

"Peeta and I live in the Victor's Village, with two kids. Prim and Finnick. Peeta bakes

and I... you know, hunt." I pause, unsure of how to proceed further. " What about your family, Hazelle, Rory, Vick and Posy?"

" Oh, they are in District 13. The three of them have jobs, and Hazelle works in the

kitchen there. I meet them from time to time."

"Do you..." I choke on the words. "Do you see my mother?"

He looks at me, all humour gone from his eyes. " Katniss, she needs you. Although I'm

always there for her, it is you she needs."

"You didn't have to do that."

"Do what?"

"Be there for her. Not that I'm ungrateful. I can't thank you enough. But you didn't have to

do that."

"I promised, Katniss. I let you down once on that promise. I wasn't going to break that

promise again."

I don't speak. Memories I've been running from as long as I can remember now grip me

in their powerful and terrible talons.

"So are you going to come?"

"I don't know, Gale. Going away was her choice. She could've stayed here, with me, with

us, but she didn't. She obviously didn't care about us enough to do that."

"You know that's not true."

"Then what is? What's it that's true about her?"

"You have no idea, do you? After all these years." he says.

I give him a dumbfounded look.

"The death of our fathers in the mine accident was the fault of the Capitol." he says in a

flat voice without any preamble. "They ordered the creation of a stope where they knew the country rock was weak. The accident was the result of nothing but pure greed. So the distribution of 'valour medals' was the last straw for our people. The people started a revolt against the Capitol, one of the most potent ones in history. Your mother participated in the revolt. The revolt slowly started to spread to other districts. This terrified the Capitol. They released tracker jackers on the rebels."

I see my mother in front of my eyes, as she sat propped up in a chair or huddled inside a

blanket, her eyes fixed on some point in the distance.

"Your mother was strong, as headstrong as you were. Circumstances broke her."

"It's not possible, I don't remember seeing-"

"Because you were just a child. Do you think your mother would have told you she was

going to get herself potentially killed?"

"So how do you know about this?"

"I came across the files when I was studying the history of District 12, for strategic

purposes."

"So you think losing Prim unleashed that part of her again?" I muse. Although that part

was never really caged.

"Yes, and I think that she went away because she couldn't bear the thought of losing you

too."

"But she already did."

"Don't do this." he pleads. " I can't stress enough on how much she needs you. Going

away from you took a big chunk out of her. I saw her, saw as her misery turned to self pity and as it turned to loathing. She's losing her grip on reality."

My eyes widen.

"And that's not even the worst part. The worst part is, she swears revenge."