Ghost (A 'The Hunger Games' Fan-Fiction)

Chapter One

She walked down the rusty dirt road, thin hands in her pockets, mud-brown gathering bag slung over her fragile shoulder, long blonde hair pulled back in the same old ragged beanie she'd used every day for the past six years with the same blank expression never leaving her sullen face.

Ghost wasn't like any other girl in District 12.

At one point, that had been a good thing. An extremely good thing. Years ago, she'd been the kind of person that would say 'hello' to everyone she passed down the street. She'd give food and supplies to the poor with a smile on her cheery little face, sing lullabies with her parents by the fireplace every night, help her neighbors with their daily chores, and loved every single soul she met.

But there's a reason her name wasn't Ghost at that time.

Years ago, her name had been beautiful, elegant, recognized as the daughter of the kindest and most generous couple in all of Panem. It had been a name that people smiled at when ever someone spoke it. But that name soon became one that the people's hearts broke for. She and her family had been the saving grace of their little district. Because of her parents, the black market more commonly known as 'the Hob' was getting the poor and jobless a chance to get back up on their feet, keeping the innocent and needy off the streets.

Ghost's father, along with another family friend that they'd known for a very long time, had been the ones to find a location for the little market place in one of the shallower abandoned mines when she had barely turned two years old. While her mother was busy at home taking care of her, the two men were renting out areas of space in the mine to soon-to-be shop owners for little to no money. Ghost's father already had a job, so he barely took any of the earnings and gave the rest to his partner to have for himself.

Eric Roxen -Ghost's father- was not just a simple business-man, though. He and his wife, Juliet, were very good people loved by everyone who knew them. They would provide temporary shelter for the homeless and help them find suitable work, host gatherings filled with music and cheer at the end of every month that gave people something to look forward to, and give a portion of their money to less fortunate people.

But what the members of District 12 loved the most about the small family of three was the up-beat and adorable little girl everyone would see whenever the Roxen family would check in on the members and shoppers at the Hob. She'd talk to the shop owners and tell them childish jokes that they'd all laugh at together, putting much-needed smiles on their faces. Everything seemed as perfect as a little girl's life could be in a land of poverty and depression.

But then the Roxen couple died, murdered in cold blood by so-called peacekeepers, leaving their baby girl behind to survive in a horrifying world on her own. 

The teenage girl received the nickname 'Ghost' nearly a month after her parents' death when she had become so taken with grief that she had lost all ability to speak.There was a cruel group of boys, some of them older than herself and others being the same age, would whisper the most terrible things about herself.

"She's like a ghost," one of the older boys, Gale Hawthorne was his name, whispered to the boy beside him during their math class. "Just a wordless and invisible being, roaming around for no good reason." She had cried in the girls' restroom for over an hour after hearing that one.

Because she knew it was true.

She truly was just some silent child worth less than a penny, maybe nothing at all. Just a speck on the map of sorrow and grief. Nothing important.

Sadly, the new name had stuck like glue and no one bothered asking her if she liked it or not. She wouldn't have been able to tell them 'yes' or 'no' anyway since she was still too young to have known to shake her head or nod in reply. Talking obviously wasn't an option in her case, either.