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The orange light of the sun begins flooding the dull sky of District 7, the lumber district. The air was cool and refreshing against my face, running through my hair as I pick up speed on my bike. This is my favourite time of day.

Each morning, I wake up before the sun and bike into the logging woods to start my work. This part of the day was so peaceful, it made it difficult to believe that today was also Reaping day.

I continue to peddle quickly to reach the woods early, being careful to be quiet, I begin whistling a song. It's my favourite song although I never knew the title, the cheery, familiar tune reminds me of my sister. I park my bike under a small tree and walk through the thin clearing leading into the harvesting woods. I carry a sliver dagger in my hand, tossing casually and catching it, over and over as I began down the path. It was my older sister, Ferne's before she was taken away by the Capitol.

I was 10 and she was 17, and we were fending for ourselves. Only a few years earlier our parents were two of almost one hundred that had been killed in a shooting by Peacekeepers. They were apart of the overpopulated working-class that the Captiol could no longer afford. District 7 had become angry after this, at the betrayal of the Capitol who favoured and often rewarded us for the blood thirsty tributes we produced.

Thus a rebellion had begun and something had ignited in my sister. Ferne was absolutely furious after my parents' death and took action anonymously herself. Each morning at sunrise, she would bike to the harvesting woods and carve messages in the trees before the workers arrived. The messages were usually phrases along the lines of "F--- THE CAPITAL".

One day though, Ferne had been caught. I was still asleep when Peacekeepers had come knocking at our home's door to tell me Ferne had been sent to the capitol for an interview and would not be returning soon. Even at a young hopeful age, I knew there was no way she was still alive.

The Peacekeepers raided our house of all of Ferne's belongings, but I did manage to steal her prized dagger.

Besides her dagger, all I have left of her is her looks.

Now that I'm 16, I would have been identical to her when she was still home, with our (H/C) hair, our (S/C) cheeks and (E/C) eyes my family basically trademarked.

I will admit my messages aren't quiet as poetic as "F--- THE CAPITAL", but to this day I continue her work, carving messages into the trees each morning before work hours, so all of 7 can see.

My eyes land on a particularly large oak. Untouched green vines wind beautifully around the branches making it distinct and noticeable, perfect. I grasp my knife tightly and begin to trace into the bark. My work is nearly finished when I hear the snap of a twig behind me. I whirl around and send my knife at the source of the noise.

"Hey! You almost killed me!" It was my best friend, and probably the only reason I haven't died yet without my sister, Copper Liles.

"Too bad I missed." I smirk at him.

My knife was pinned just above his head in a tree. Copper was 17, he was a few months older than me. He had longer dirty blond hair and a square jaw. Many of the District 7 girls go crazy for him.
Copper and his family who consists of his mother, father, and little sister June had taken me in after I had been orphaned. I live with them in their cottage and work in their family blacksmiths shop with Copper and his dad. I feel I'm forever in debt for all of their kindness.

"If I hadn't known that was you it would be lodged in your forehead right now, Copp."

He ducks and pulls my knife out of the tree handing it to me.
He chuckles, but the smile is soon replaced with a wash of sadness.

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