Shattered (A Hunger Games Fan-fiction) (Wattys2015) (#feels)

Chapter 3

"Finn?"

"Finn!"

"Finn, wake up already!" I open my eyes a crack to see my little sister, Rosie jumping on my bed. Her tiny hands are extended in front of her and she is smiling widely.

Seeing her like that immediately brings a smile to my lips and I sit up in bed. It has to be about seven in the morning if she is awake. My mom normally sends her in to wake me up.

"Morning," I say groggily.

Morning, Finn," she grins. "Come on, we're having breakfast today!" Today must be special then, I think, as I splash cold water on my face from the small basin in the bathroom. We never have a proper breakfast. I think no one does these days. With the food sources so less, we are lucky if we manage to have a little meat at dinnertime. Lunch is usually some bread and cheese that Annie gives us. I always refuse it, but she ends up pushing it into my sister's hands, and she of course, takes it with a smile. Annie goes to The Mart every evening and trades some fish for things like bread, cheese and what I'm told is chicken soup. I hate her going there all alone.

Annie. Just thinking of her causes my heart to clench. What if she leaves? What if she does go to the foster house? I cannot bare the thought. I have to figure a way out of this soon, I think. I quickly pull on a pair of grey trousers and a plain white shirt: my school uniform.

"Finn, come on!" Rose yells from outside my bedroom. She is jumping up and down and giggling. I quickly pull the door open and pick her up. With her bright, innocent blue eyes and dimpled cheeks, she is very easy to love. After all, it is hard to even come across a cute five year old girl here in four. No one actually wants kids, knowing they will be raised in a time where evil and cruelty are prevailing. With her kind and helpful nature, she manages to captivate about a dozen people when we go to school.

The living room is a combination of a kitchen and a sitting room and is always cramped. I walk over to the table where breakfast awaits. Somehow, mom managed to get hold of three eggs from somewhere. She has fried them all and placed a small piece of toast next to each one. I guess Annie gave us a little extra bread yesterday.

"Morning, mom," I say, kissing her on the forehead. I gently placed Rosie in her chair and sit down next to my dad. "Hi, dad."

They smile weakly back at me and that's when I realise something is wrong. I don't push them for details though. Knowing them, they will probably tell us themselves in a while.

"So," says my father. "Was Annie alright last night?" I contemplate whether to tell them what I found out last night and decide that now is as good a time as any. I was going to ask my dad for help anyway.

"No, she wasn't actually," I begin.

"What happened? Is she hurt or something?" my mom asks, concerned.

"No, she is being sent to foster care." I reply dully. I tell them everything she told me last night. I told them about the Peacekeepers visiting her and her mom, and the fact that she only has a week left. My father scratched the back of his head slowly, deep in thought.

"There's got to be a way out of this," he says. "I'll think of something. Don't worry yourself about it, Finnick. Tell Annie not to stress out too."

"But we have to figure something out soon," I point out. "We've got until Sunday."

"I know," he says. "It will be alright."

I manage to grin at him for a moment. He has got to be the best father in the world. Even with his tiring job and hectic routine, he always does whatever he can to make us kids happy. Even Annie, since he loves her like a second daughter.