♪ Birds Of A Feather. ♪

...Prolouge...

　。。。

.Y/N POV.

I don't remember too much from the war, besides the fact I was too young to be involved in it. Regardless most kids like me didn't have a choice. My ma and pop weren't much different. They were sweet and kind from what I remember, which is little to none. They were dead before I was able to understand their behaviors. Fellow citizens of District Twelve were the ones to blame surprisingly. You would think I would have some sob story about how the capitol killed my family while they fought for our freedom. Truth is folks were so hungry that most resorted to cannibalism. My brother took care of me for the remainder of the dark days. He would play his guitar for me so I could sleep without thoughts clouding my mind. I begged him to teach me and he tried the best he could, thankfully I had a knack for it. He "escaped" our district as soon as we lost the war, but not before making sure I could decently care for myself. He taught me everything to know about how to stay alive off the most inedible things possible. I didn't care though since these methods were the last things I had that were his. After he left most speculated he never made it past the lake. Security was tight after the war but he couldn't stand our lives as district. So much so he would have rather taken his chances than live in District Twelves another minute. I like to believe he is still alive living in a beautiful meadow waiting for me to someday join him, playing his old guitar. I'll never listen to the voices of others who told me he died that day. I eventually grew older believe it or not. When I hit the age of 15 I started to sing on the streets for money. One day I found myself singing old songs I was taught from our district when a group of angels approached me. They were called the covey. Originally they would perform place to place but were gathered at District Twelve after the war. They took me into their group after hearing I could sing, and were elated when I mentioned my knowledge of the guitar. They looked out for me and I did the same for them as we performed all about District Twelve. To my disappointment I mostly played the guitar as backup since the Covey already had a star singer. Her name was Lucy Gray Baird, someone hard to hate but man I tried. I've come to accept my place now but for a while I hated how much better she was than me. I can't blame her since the crowd always wants her anyways. We eventually became friends and learned to rely on each other. Often times we would reassure each other with the phrase "Birds of a feather flock together." This phrase often times reminded us of our friendship in hardships. Little did I know how much I would miss this phrase when Lucy Gray was reaped for the hunger games. I cried for the days she was gone, yet I had performed in her absence. The embrace I gave her upon her return was bone crushing, making her promise not to leave again. Surprisingly she wasn't the only thing that came to District Twelve, or should I say individual?