Y/n has been living in district 2 since her parents death, 8 years ago, when the rage of the capitol had taken on other territories, almost every and each one of them had been raided, people killed if they defied the capitols rules, and children and teenagers put in whatever districts they had wanted at the time. Y/n has now been living in this district for 8 years, her parents were killed during the conflicts, and she was then sent to the second district alone, and been given a small cabin where she could stay at the mere age of 10 years old. There was no heat. No food. No one. She grieved her parents for months and months on end, but she eventually had to get up to take wood to do her best to isolate the house and went to hunt, she had no idea how to, and it took her weeks to catch a squirrel with her knife, but she trained a lot, with the handmade target she had put in the wall of the cabin, and she eventually got much better at it, better than any of the other hunters who had to hunt to survive, or they died. There were only few families in district two, and of course inside of those were the careers, the ones who volunteered to the hunger games every year, the ones who were trained almost since their birth to go there. Y/n never cared much about them, it was a relief that they volunteered every year, because that meant she was safe, in her sad little cabin, she had a friend called tyler and they spoke from time to time, but mostly she spent her time, hunting, selling food sometimes to have money for the house, but often she’d give food to the three little kids she was particularly fond of, they also, didn’t have much, and most of the time, Y/n would come baring a squirrel or a rabbit even, when times were good. She’d always give them food, even if she was starving herself, she was 18, and they were kids, mostly 11-12 years old, who still had parents, still could have a beautiful life before them, they still had this light in her eyes that Y/n had lost a long time ago. So, that was her life, the winters were cold, so cold she was scared she would die, but mostly she lived, she was smart and had to survive, if only to feed the kids who still deserved to live happily, when they could. Y/n was frightened of most peacemakers, and two of them in the village had taken the habit to come visit her once or twice the year, simply to scare her, they did inspections, touched her body while she snarled at them but couldn’t do anything, but they’d laugh and then they were gone and mostly, y/n was relieved when they left after that, because they knew what could happen and even if she had her knives on her—knives with which she was highly experienced now—she wasn’t quite sure she’d be able to touch them, hurt them, …. Not because she was scared but because…. they worked for the capitol, and fighting against them would insinuate a defiance, a sort of rebellion. It was thus much safer to stay put and simply hope they never did do more. Anyways, the careers had never been y/n mostly preoccupation, with all she had to do simply to survive, although she was interested, intrigued, of those trained killers, of what their brain must look like, their childhood, she wasn’t sure which was worse, what had happened to her or what they had been trained to happen to them, but she let it go, sensing it didn’t matter what worse there would be. Except, this year was different, yesterday was the day before the reaping, the day where she discovered that the female career who was supposed the volunteer had given up and fled. Y/n’s blood had run cold at the thought, she was 18, and her name was in there a few times now, so as she now approached the center, accompanied by every and each person this town encountered, she froze and waited for the reveal of who would be competing in the 74th hunger games, alongside cato, the career tribute from district 2 also, who had been trained since…. far too long to be able to win those games.