The heat of the tea in the pot has long been dissipated into the cold air, but I still hold the teapot tightly with both hands.My muscles are tense from the cold.If a group of wild dogs came to attack at this time, I would definitely be bitten by the wild dogs before I could climb the tree in time.I should stand up and move my stiff limbs, but instead I sat, as still as a rock.At this time, the sky was already bright, and the surrounding bushes were faintly showing their outlines.I can't wrestle with the sun, just watch it drag me bit by bit into daylight, the coming day that I've been dreading for months.

Reporters, photographers, and my original escort, Effie Trinket, would pour into my home in Victor Village by noon, and they should have set off from the Capitol by now.I don't know if Effie is still wearing her stupid pink wig, or if she's wearing some other weird color for the Victory Tour, I don't know.Also coming is our entourage. During the long train journey, there is a team dedicated to taking care of my diet and daily life. Of course, there is also a makeup artist who evens me and powders me so that I can appear in public people.My designer and longtime friend Cinna was also on the trip.At the opening of the last Hunger Games, he designed me a beautiful costume that made me the center of attention right from the start of the game.

If it was up to me, I'd rather forget about the Hunger Games completely, just treat it as a nightmare and never mention it again.But with the Victory Tour just around the corner, it's impossible to forget it, and the Capitol purposely placed the tour between two Hunger Games games to keep the horrors of it hanging in people's minds and lingering.The people of the twelve districts not only remember the Capitol's iron policy, but also celebrate it.And this year, I'm one of the protagonists of the drama, going from district to district, to stand in front of cheering people, to face families who lost children in the Hunger Games -- despite their inner feelings I'm disgusted even though I'm the one who killed their baby...

The sun still stubbornly rose, and I forced myself to stand up.All the joints in my body were resisting, my left leg was already numb, and I had to walk back and forth to regain consciousness.I've been in the woods for three hours, but I'm not in the mood for hunting, so I'm still empty-handed.For mother and little sister Prim, although fresh game tastes better, it doesn't really matter, they can buy butchered meat in the town.But my best friend Gail Hawthorne's family lives off these game and I can't let them down.I started to move forward with the set, which took an hour or so.When we were at school, Gail and I always had some time in the afternoon to look over the traps we had made, collect the catch, and sell it at the market.But now Gale was working in the coal pits in the mine, and I had nothing to do when I had nothing to do all day, so I took the job.

At this moment, Gail must be working in the well. He has to get on the tank truck that makes people feel nauseous, go down to the bottomless well, and then dig coal on the ground.I know what it's like to be down a well.When we were in school, as a basic training, our class went to the well every year to experience life.I really didn't want to go there when I was a child. The narrow and claustrophobic alleys, the stale air, and the darkness all around were really unbearable.Since my father and several other miners died in the explosion, it was difficult for me to force myself to get on the tank truck. Every year, visiting the mine became a big part of my mind. Twice I fell ill because of it. My mother thought I have the flu.

Gail was only really happy when he was in the woods, where there was fresh air, sunshine, and a bubbling, clear stream.I really don't know how he put up with everything down the well.Oh...of course he had to put up with it all because he had to support his mom, two younger brothers and a younger sister.But now I have enough money to support our two families, but he doesn't want a penny; it's hard for me to bring him any meat.Honestly, if I died in the Hunger Games, wouldn't he support Mom and Prim?I told him he was doing me a favor by taking the prey, that I would go mad if I had nothing to do all day long.But even so, as long as he is at home, he will never accept my prey.Fortunately, he worked in the mine twelve hours a day, so it wasn't too difficult to send some game to his family.

These days Gale is only seen on Sundays, when we meet in the woods and then go hunting together.It's still the best time of the week, but I always feel that everything is not the same as before. We used to talk about everything, but now we are a little stiff together. The Hunger Games even ruined our bond.I've been hoping that as time goes on, maybe we can get back to the way it used to be.But I felt vaguely in my heart that this was unlikely, and the past time was gone forever. This time the trap caught a lot of prey—eight rabbits, two squirrels, and a beaver got into the kind of trap Gail knew best.He was a master at this, and he would fasten the noose rope to the crooked twigs, which would spring up when he caught his prey, so that other predators could not catch him; On the little traps, for camouflage; the fish baskets he made, once the fish got into it, it was hard to escape.I thought to myself as I harvested the prey that I would never have the skill or intuition that he has, which is always good enough to judge where the prey is going to pass.This is not just a matter of experience, but a talent, just as I can shoot prey with one arrow in the dark night.

It was still daylight when I walked towards the District 12 fence.As usual, I listened quietly for a while, but I didn't hear the low hum of electricity passing through the barbed wire; although it is reasonable to say that the fence should always be energized, I almost never heard this sound.I crawled through the gap below and stood on the "pasture", which was very close to my old home.We still have the house because it is the legal residence of my mother and sister.If I die suddenly, they will have to come back here.But now they are all happily living in their new house in Victor Village, and I'm the only one who actually uses this little house, after all, I grew up here, for me, this is the real home .

I'm going in now to get dressed, ditching Dad's old leather jacket and soft old boots for a narrow-shouldered fine-spun wool coat and expensive machine-made shoes that Mom thinks fit me better.I have hidden the bow and arrow in the hollow of the tree.Even though it was getting late, I wanted to sit in the kitchen for a few minutes.There was no wood in the fire, the table-cloth had been taken down, and everything looked so decayed that I regretted the passing of time.We used to be poor, but in this tightly woven web of life, I know my place better, and I wish I could go back to how safe it was; It aroused the incomparable hatred of the Capitol authorities.

At this time, the sad cry of the kitten came from the back door, which attracted my attention.I opened the door, and it was Prim's old, dirty buttercup.He dislikes the new home almost as much as I do, always sneaking out while Prim is at school.We didn't like each other, but now we have something new in common.I let him in, fed him a piece of beaver, and even petted him between the ears. "You're ugly, you know that, huh?" I asked. The buttercups arched my hand to touch it again, but now I had to go. "Come on, buddy." I picked him up with one hand, grabbed the game bag with the other, and walked out into the street.The cat broke free from my grasp and disappeared into the bushes.

The shoes creaked on the cindery road, and the shoes pinched their toes and were uncomfortable.I walked through several alleys, around the backyards of several houses, and soon came to Gail's house.His mother Hazel, who was bending over the sink doing laundry, saw me from the window, dried her hands on her apron, and came to meet me at the door. I love Hazel and respect her a lot.The explosion at the mine had killed her father, taken her husband as well, and left her with three children and the baby in her womb.A week after she gave birth, she went out to look for work.Because she had to take care of these children, she was definitely not allowed to do the work in the mine, so she took the laundry job from the merchants.Gail, the eldest son of the family, took up the responsibility of supporting the family at the age of fourteen.He registered to receive food stamps at that time, and he could get a little ration and oil. In exchange, he had to register multiple times, so in the "tribute" lottery, the probability of being drawn would increase.At that time, even if he was a good trapper, if Hazel didn't wash people's clothes with his own hands day and night, his prey would hardly be able to feed a family of five.Every winter, her hands were always cracked, red and swollen, and would bleed when touched.If it weren't for the ointment specially made by my mother, I'm afraid it won't get better all the time.But Hazel and Gale were determined not to have the other children—Rory, twelve, Vic, ten, and Persy, four—enroll for food stamps. Hazel grinned when she saw her prey. She lifted the beaver's tail, weighed it, and said, "This will make a pot of delicious broth." Unlike Gail, she treated us both It doesn't matter who hits the prey. "The skin is not bad either." I said.It was a pleasure spending time with Hazel, who, like us, always compliments her prey.She poured me a cup of herbal tea, and I clutched the warm mug with my cold hands, grateful. "You know, I want to come back from this trip, and when Rory is free from school, I can take him out every now and then and teach him how to hunt," I said. Hazel nodded: "That's a good idea. Gail has always wanted to take him out, but he only has time on Sunday. I think he would rather set aside this time and stay with you." My face turned red involuntarily.Of course, that's kind of silly.No one knew me better than Hazel, and she knew about my relationship with Gale.I'm sure a lot of people thought Gail and I were going to bond sooner or later, even if I never thought about it that way.But this was before the Hunger Games, before my partner Peeta Mylark declared he was madly in love with me, and our romance became a key strategy for our survival in the arena, except that Peeta didn't Think of it as a strategy.I don't know what it means to me, but I know it's a pain for Gail.The thought of Peeta and I having to play couples again with the upcoming Victory Tour gave me a tight feeling in my chest. I hurriedly drank the tea, which was still hot, pushed the cup on the table, and said to Hazel, "I have to go, dress nicely, so I can look good." Hazel hugged me and said, "Enjoy your food." "Sure." I said. On the way home we pass through the Hopper Black Market, where I used to sell quite a few things.A few years ago, it was a warehouse for storing coal. Later, it was abandoned and became a place for people to engage in illegal trade. It has been an open black market for a long time.As far as breaking the law, I think I am one of them.Hunting in the woods of the 12th district violated at least 12 laws, which were worthy of the death penalty. Although it's never mentioned, I owe a debt to the regulars of Hopper's Black Market.Gale told me that Gracie Sey, the elderly woman who sold black market soup, had put together a group of sponsors for Peeta and me during the Hunger Games.It stands to reason that I was a person in the black market, and those who sponsored me were supposed to be people from the black market, but later many people also joined in after hearing about it.I don't know exactly how much money they got, but any gift thrown into the arena is worth a lot, and it has a lot to do with my life and death in the arena. I was carrying an empty game bag with nothing to trade and a heavy coin in my trouser pocket, so it was a strange feeling when I opened the front door of the Black Market.I try to walk as many stalls as I can and buy as much as I can, I buy coffee, bread, eggs, yarn and oil.Later, I remembered that I bought three bottles of liquor from a one-armed woman named Ripper.This woman was also injured in the mine accident, but she was quite smart and found a way to make a living. The drink was for Haymitch, not the family, who was Peeta and I's Hunger Games mentor, a gruff, surly guy who was drunk most of the time.But he did his duty anyway.This time was different because for the first time in the contest's history, two "tributes" were allowed to win.So, whoever Haymitch is, I owe him a favor, a lifelong favor.A few weeks ago, he went to buy alcohol and couldn't get it. He had an alcohol withdrawal reaction, had terrible hallucinations, trembled and yelled.Prim was terrified, and honestly, I wasn't happy to see him like that.Since then, I've been saving some baijiu in case he runs out someday. Clay, the head of the security police, frowned when he saw me buying alcohol.He was an elderly man, with a strand of gray hair sweeping to the right of his red face. "Girl, this thing is too strong for you." Of course he knew it, and besides Haymitch, Clay was the most drunk person I've ever seen. "Oh, my mother used this to make medicine." I replied casually. "Oh, this thing is more powerful than anything," he said, slapping a coin on the case.I walked over to Gracie Se's again, leaned over to sit at her counter, and ordered a soup that seemed to be made of gourds and beans.While I was eating the soup, a vigilante named Darius came by and bought a bowl.Of all the vigilantes, he's my favorite.He doesn't play prestige, but also likes to make jokes. He is in his twenties, but he doesn't look much older than me.His smiling face and shaggy hair make him look like a big kid. "Aren't you leaving by train?" he asked me. "They came to pick me up at noon," I replied. "Don't you think you should dress up?" he said to me in a low voice. Although I was in a bad mood at this time, his teasing still made me laugh. "Maybe you should put a headband in your hair or something?" he said, stroking my braids, and I pushed his hands away. "Don't worry, you won't recognize me when they get dressed up," I said. "That's very nice," he said, "Miss Everdeen, we've got to dress up to make a name for ourselves too, don't we?" He shook his head in Gracie Say's way, disapprovingly. look, and then went to find his friends. "Bring me back the soup bowl," Gracie Say called to him, her voice not too harsh because of the smile on her face. "Will Gale drop you off?" Gracie Se asked me. "No, he wasn't on the list to send me off, but I just saw him on Sunday." "I thought he must be on the list. He's still your cousin," she said slyly. This so-called "cousin" was a hoax concocted by the Capitol.When Peeta and I were in the top eight, the Capitol sent reporters to interview us about our personal lives.When I asked, everyone said Gail was my friend; but that can't work, Peeta and I are so romantic in the arena, and my best friend is Gail.He's too handsome and masculine to even smile for the camera.We do have a lot in common, we all have the look of the Seam - straight black hair, olive skin, gray eyes.So some genius made him my cousin.I didn't know about it until I came back from the train and on the platform my mother said to me, "Your cousin can't wait, he can't wait to see you right away!" Then I turned and saw Gale, Hazel and the others Several children are waiting for me, so what else can I say?Just let nature take its course. Gracie Se knew we were not related, but those who had known us for years seemed to forget that. "I really hope this is over soon," I said softly. "I know that," Gracie Say said, "but this scene has to go before it's over, and better not be too late." When I was walking towards Victor Village, there was a light snow in the sky.The home is half a mile from the town square, yet it's a whole other world.It was an isolated settlement amidst green trees, low bushes dotted with beautiful flowers, and twelve houses, each ten times the size of the house in which I lived when I was growing up.Nine of the houses were empty and remained empty, and the other three were occupied by Haymitch, Peeta, and me. Our house and Peeta's house are full of warm life, with soft light in the windows, smoke from the chimney, and colorful grains on the door, ready to welcome the arrival of harvest season.However, Haymitch's home, although looked after by a dedicated cleaner, looked rundown and desolate.I stopped at the door of his house, gathered myself together, and expected that the house must be dirty and messy, then opened the door and went in. The smell in the room made me wrinkle my nose immediately.Haymitch won't let anyone clean his room, and he won't clean it himself.The stench of alcohol and vomit accumulated over the years, mixed with the smell of mushy cabbage, burnt meat, dirty clothes, and rat droppings, made me cry.The floor was covered with rotting wrapping paper, broken glass, and bones, and I trudged through the filth to Haymitch.He was sitting at the kitchen table with his arms spread out, his face on a pool of wine, and he was snoring loudly, sleeping. I nudged him by the shoulder. "Get up!" I yelled loudly, knowing that my voice was too low to wake him up.He stopped snoring and seemed to be waking up, but then he started snoring again.I pushed him hard. "Get up, Haymitch, we're going on tour today!" Afterwards, I opened the window forcefully, took a breath of fresh air outside, and then used my feet to dig through the garbage on the ground to find a coffee pot and fill it with water from the water pipe. .The fire hadn't been completely extinguished yet, so I slowly cranked it up.To make the coffee stronger, I poured a lot of ground coffee into the jug, then sat the jug over the fire and waited for the water to boil. Haymitch is still sleeping soundly, and his personnel are unknown.I had no choice but to take a large basin of cold water, pour all my brains on his head, and then quickly jumped to the side to avoid it.He made an animal-like noise in his throat, jumped up, kicked the chair far behind him, and danced in the air with the knife in his hand.I forgot that he always had a knife in his hand when he slept, and I should have pried his fingers to get the knife away.While swearing and swearing, he waved the knife in his hand, and it took him a while to wake up.He wiped his face with his sleeve and turned his head towards the window.I've sat down on the windowsill, just in case, so I can get away. "What are you doing?" he said angrily. "You asked me to wake you up an hour before the reporter came," I said. "What?" he said. "You said it." I insisted. He seemed to remember: "Why am I all wet?" "I can't shake you. Look, if you want to be gentle, you should call Peeta." I said, "What did you call me for?" When I heard Peeta's voice, my heart was in a mess, feeling guilty, sad and scared.There is also a longing, maybe I should admit that I also have a little longing for him, but I just don’t want to admit it in my inner struggle. I watch Peeta.He goes to the table.The slanting sun coming in from the window reflected the snowflakes that had just fallen on his head, shining brightly. He looked strong and healthy, so different from the sick, hungry boy in the arena. Even his limp was less noticeable.He put a large loaf of freshly baked bread on the table and held out his hand to Haymitch. "You didn't wake me up for pneumonia," Haymitch said, dropping the knife in his hand.He took off his dirty shirt, revealing the same dirty trousers, and he grabbed the wet part of the shirt and wiped himself. Peeta smiled, dipped the knife in a bottle of white wine on the ground, wiped the blade dry with the hem of his shirt, and sliced ​​the bread.Pita always gives us freshly baked bread.I hunt, he bakes, Haymitch drinks.We went about our business and tried not to think about the unhappiness in The Hunger Games.He handed Haymitch a piece of bread and looked up at me for the first time. "Would you like a slice?" "No, I ate at the market. Thank you," I said. It didn't sound like my own, serious, and it's been like that ever since the photographer finished our triumphant shot and each other went back to real life. "You're welcome." He replied bluntly. Haymitch tosses his shirt into a nearby pile of debris: "Oh, you two have to warm up before the real show." Of course, he was right.Audiences will be scrutinizing the lovebirds from The Hunger Games, and they're not looking for a pair that just ignores each other.But I just said, "Take a shower, Haymitch," and jumped out of the window, across the green lawn, and headed home. The snow has melted a bit, leaving a string of footprints behind me.At the door, I stopped, knocked the wet mud off my feet, and went back into the house.For this TV shooting, my mother has been busy day and night. The house has been cleaned and the windows are clean and spotless. It is impossible to dirty the polished floor with big muddy feet.Before I could even enter the door, she was standing there with her arms raised, as if trying to stop me. "It's okay, I'll take my shoes off here." I said, and took off my shoes on the doormat. Mom gave a small, weird laugh. She took the game bag from my shoulder and said, "It's just started to snow. How about you go for a walk?" "A walk?" She knew I'd been in the woods in the middle of the night.Then I saw a man standing by the kitchen door behind her. He was in a neat suit and had a shapely body that looked like he had undergone plastic surgery. I could tell at a glance that he was a Capitol.The atmosphere was a little off. "Oh, it's so slippery, it's like skating." "Someone wants to see you," Mom said, her face pale, and I could hear her trying to hide her anxiety. "I thought they wouldn't be here until noon." I pretended not to notice my mother's unnatural expression. "Cinna needs to arrive early so she can help me get ready?" "No, Katniss, it's—" Mom was about to say. "This way, please, Miss Everdeen," said the man.He gestured for me to walk down the corridor.It feels weird to have someone lead you in your own home, but I know it's best not to comment on it. As I walked, I smiled calmly at my mother so that she would not worry. "Maybe it's some instruction from the tour." Before the start of the tour, they kept sending me various materials, explaining the tour route, the rules to be observed in each district, and so on.But when I walked towards the study, I saw the door that had never been closed closed in front of me, and all kinds of speculations flashed in my mind: Who is here?What are they going to do?Why is mother's face so ugly? "Go right in," said the Capitol, who followed me all the way. I turned the smooth brass handle, pushed the door open and walked in.As soon as I entered the room, I could vaguely smell a mixture of blood and roses.A thin, white-haired man was reading a book. His face seemed familiar to me.He held up a finger as if to say "wait a minute" and then he turned around and I gasped. What appeared in front of my eyes was President Snow with his eyes that were as sharp as snake venom.