|||Water.and.Fire||| \D-Wayne/

We walk for five minutes until we reach Ranvier's house. It's quite cozy, with soft furniture and many fishing supplies strewn everywhere. According to a note his mother had left us, we were all by ourselves.

Dinner was still cooking in a pot, it was obviously fish. I took off Ranvier's jacket and sat on a comfortable chair.

"Shall we wait for dinner to cook?"

Ranvier turns on the small television in the corner of the room. They're showing reruns of the Reaping. I haven't been to a Reaping in a few years. I watch those poor kids, feeling all that nervousness and pain and sorrow. I feel bad for them.

When the rerun has ended, Ranvier asks me "So, I haven't seen you around town. Where are you from?"

A moment of pain. I'm from District One, my former home before I ran away. When I think about it I flinch, thinking about my time living there. It was so painfully boring, and so painfully depressing.

With a shaky voice I say, "District One."

"What are you doing in District 9?" he asks. It's a pretty general and harmless question, but I take this seriously. You can't take any chances as a Wanderer.

"I travel a lot. I'm on vacation here," I say, trying to keep my tone balanced.

Ranvier seems to forget everything that has happened in the last five minutes when the stew's ready. He grabs two bowls and two S.P.O.0.N.S and hands me a bowl filled with fishy stew. It smells delicous, and I dig in. I haven't had a homemade kind of meal in a long time, and it is a delicacy to me. It tastes heavy with fish, and the touch of vegetables makes it even better. I savor it.

Now the storm is sending sheets of rain down to land, and I can't see anything through the window because of the downpour. I'm lucky I have a home to stay in for this ferocious storm.

My mind registers the fact that this is the perfect time to turn the tables and ask a question: "Do you get storms often?"

This is a perfect question, for it makes me seem like a tourist... and it doesn't seem suspicous.

"Wow, I would love to visit there some time," he says. "The only way that I could ever go there is if I won the Hunger Games."

I know this is true, but for some reason my mind questions this. I question this. Is it? Do you necessarily have to be a Victor to go to District One?

No.

"No.. not if you become a Wanderer."

What he said hits me painfully.

He loved his family.

He would never leave them.

it just wouldn't be fair to throw away what they have given to me

Well, I threw away what my parents had given me by running away. I threw away everything. I can feel tears in my eyes. They run down my cheeks. The hurt is so strong, the memories so real. I can see them, my parents, crying for me at night; wondering why their wonderful daughter would run away from them. The tears flow, I release months of withheld sorrow. I'm in no control. I'm risking my life by doing this. But I somehow trust this boy. Ranvier.