Incurable

Dusk was approaching. Yet another sign that told me to move my butt from my bed and get myself to the forest where I would meet my partner. A routine I had practiced everyday since the age of 11. One that had not been broken, unless a special occasion occurred.

Gale Hawthorne. That's who he was. My best friend. My hunting partner. He and I were thrown together by a mutual need to survive. We were inseparable, as it seemed, sharing the same sorrow for our deceased fathers who's bodies were cremated in the darkness of the coal mine's that one afternoon. Blown to bits inside the lifeless underground.

Sunday. The one day Gale wasn't obliged to spend in the mines, and he chose to spend it with me. Not his family, let alone his siblings who needed him most, but me. Hard-headed, stubborn, arrogant me. I found it hard to believe how he could put up with my familiar rants about the damned Capitol each day, and sometimes, I think he enjoyed hearing about it, so he could let off some steam as well. When I had returned from the Games, my body shining with lotion that had been plastered onto my rough calluses and scars to make them look presentable, he was the first one I noticed. Atop his shoulders was the small frame of my sisters, her hands perched on his head as they waited for Peeta and I to descend the metal stairs of the train and into the awaiting crowd. I had never expected to feel somewhat grateful towards my mother who seemed happy and very much alive, as was my sister. For once, she had kept my promise and hadn't bailed on Prim, especially when I was gone. And Gale... Well, Gale I had never doubted. He pulled through, and I was forever grateful.

My brain forced my body to move, sitting upright in the creaking mattress that lay on a bed frame three doors down from the one my mother and Prim shared. It had once belonged to my grandfather, the one who had owned the apothecary back in the days, before its supplier ran out of their needs and had to shut down. They had used said mattress for their breaks, and I had prayed to whoever would listen no one had departed on it, yet I had refused to give it up along with the house I grew in. Feeling a special part of my 'old' life beneath my body was always comforting.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet touching the floor and shooting a cold draft through me. My hand grasped for the clothes that lay in dirty heap on the floor, the same ones I had worn from yesterdays afternoon in the forest. The pine from the tree clung itself onto the material of my shirt like a cactus to a hand, pulling along a loose thread as I flicked it towards the wood that lay in the fireplace opposite my bed. My head poked through the top hole of my shirt, followed by each arm along with my pants. They never felt the same, they felt... 'Capitol-ish'. Made by the Capitol, for the Capitol, however I wasn't from the Capitol. I was from the Seam. District 12. A place I had never been so happy to call home. Or so I thought.

By 7 o'clock I had prepared my equipment. My game bag was empty except my rope, knife, and small plastic bag, my boots were tied, and my fathers old hunting jacket was already around my body. Risking sneaking over to the Hawthorne's was too much these days. I would constantly get gibbered at by many of the nearby folks, and questioned by any of the news crew the Capitol sent over, so unfortunately, I was rarely able to see them. Hazelle had reassured me otherwise, that she understood the reason for my rare visits to their humble abode I was so welcomed into. Thus being the reason I had noted to keep my excitement low key whilst jogging to the fence that would lead me to the forest. Correction; freedom. I was just as excited to see /him/ more than anything, hoping that with time spent apart brought more stories to tell one another.

I grab the knob of the front door after flinging myself down the stairs to where I would be greeted by the crisp morning air I yearned to feel for days. Usually I would wander around the town after waking up later than usual, but now, ha. Now I enjoyed waking up early more than anything else. Mind you, there was no reason for me to hunt and collect game, being one half of the 74th annual Hunger Games victors, my family and I were supplied with money and food. Gale, however, was still in the state his family had been in for years, the same mine had been in before child slaughter television changed that. No matter how many times I had offered him and his family food or money, he would push it away, not take it, wouldn't think about it twice. Sometimes I thought he was as stubborn as I was.