"Goodbye, Blue. I love you." he smiles, stretching an arm out to me. Instantly, they snatch him away. One of them whips a gun from their pocket and places it firmly against my head. I scream at him, but my only reply is a filthy glare. They hate me because my grandfather did bad things, but I know he didn't do them. Whatever anyone says, I know he is innocent. He told me so himself and my Granddad would never lie to me. I'm his Blue, his flower, his angel.

"No!" I scream, but nobody listens. I yell again but they are already dragging him away. A gun is pressed firmly against his skull, and I can hear threatening words being muttered, although the mockingjays are singing to loudly for me to make out the words.

"Granddad! Granddad!" I scream till my voice is hoarse. Soft hands caress my face soothingly, but I throw them away, grief-stricken. They're going to kill my Granddad and he's innocent.

"Father! Father!" my Mother calls, only she isn't my Mother any more. The brave, proud mother I knew is gone. In her place is a forlorn little girl, calling for a daddy that will never come home.

"It's okay, Kallia. He's..." my step-father takes her face in my hands. Anger boils up inside me. He shouldn't be here. He does not belong here. He does not deserve to touch her face. This man should be back in the oh-so-wonderful city center with horrendously dyed teenage girls swooning over his pathetic forty-year-old self. Just like he was a couple of years ago. And my father should be the one carressing my mother's face soothingly, murmuring incoherently to his much-loved wife. Instead, my step-father is intruding on our life and my father is cold in his grave.

"It's not okay, Querry." Kallia hisses, pulling away from his greedy touch.

"It's not all bad, honey. Think of the money, Kall! All that lovely, lovely money for us to spend." he persists greedily. I can finally bear it no longer.

"Do you really think we're going to touch a penny of that money? And more importantly, why should we care? Granddad is going to die!" I shout, and storm upstairs in a rage. It's so unfair. Why my Granddad? Why us?

Yes, the Hunger Games are the most repulsive idea in the history of Panem.

Yes, the poor kids from the Districts died deaths that were beyond horrendous.

Yes, it wasn't fair.

But what does that have to do with us? I know what most people think. It's not true. Granddad was innocent. He'd never hurt a fly.

My Grandad is President Snow.