Prologue
District Two is a hive of activity.
The streets are buzzing with people going to and from their business, carrying out their daily schedules. Some are working in the mines, some are cutting stone, and now, some are producing shiny new weapons - all under my command.
I stand gazing out the window of my apartment; hands knotted behind my back. I tighten them over and over again. This is my way of waking myself up, of telling myself even though it's been years, decades, that I am still here.
It doesn't work. Not today. The clenching and unclenching of my fists until they turn white doesn't reassure me that I am a living person. So to keep myself sane, I do what she told me to do.
What she told me to do, all those years ago. What she did when she was falling apart. She is the strongest person I know - knew - and if it worked for her, I know it will work for me. So I start.
I am Gale Hawthorne. I am 30 years old. I live in District Two, alone. I am head of the weaponary production company, Mockingjay Firearms, and I have been for 11 years. I am from District Twelve. District Twelve, that is thriving now. District Twelve, where I haven't been since it was destroyed. District Twelve - where she is.
And it helps - but not in the way it should. The pain, the memories - it brings me back to the past, and then back to reality. Now I know where I stand.
And I know that I threw everything I cared about away when I came here.
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The Hunger Games: Book Four - How it Might Have Been ... Gale.
FanfictionThe end of the Hunger Games - abrupt, unsatisfying, mysterious? Gale Hawthorne was forgotten after the Rebellion ceased - now he is back to tell his tale. Living alone in District 2, Gale still feels as though something is missing in his life - her...
