with all this PIPA and SOPA stuff, i feel a need to actually write a disclaimer for this, even though at this point it is totally redundant, you all know i am not suzanne colins and i do not own/did not make up the Hunger Games or the characters in it. please read and review, and enjoy!

"Good for nothing Seam shit…" my mother grumbled angrily under her breath- along with a few other choice swears and names- to no one in particular as she marched, soaking wet, back into the bakery, and stalked to the bathroom. I had watched her as she screamed at Katniss Everdeen, threatening to call the peacekeepers for looking for food in our trash. I look out the window, the pouring rain making things difficult to see. My stomach twisted in pity and I hurt for the scrawny, helpless shadow of the girl who goes to my school, the girl whose voice can make the birds fall silent and trip over one another to hear her sing, the girl whose father died in a coal-mining accident, and the girl who I've had a crush on for years. Her mother never got a job after it…she hasn't left the house since then. They must be living on nothing…I wish I could help.

She staggers, defeated, to the scraggly apple tree in the back yard and sits down weakly under its branches. She's dying, I can tell. Her whole family must be dying, this extreme hunger killing them all. She looked so frail and limp, wet clothes plastered to her bony body. The smell of the bread must be able to reach her…mocking her…

The bread! No one will buy burnt bread, will they? At least, my mother won't think so… This just might work…

The bread should be done about now, but I leave it in the oven. I'm watching Katniss outside our window, hoping and praying that she doesn't leave before I can get this to her. I don't even notice that my mother had returned until she screeched, "What the HELL do you think you're doing?" She slapped me across the face, right under the eye on my check with a rolling pin, calling me a worthless imbecile and other things I don't want to repeat. "Feed it to the pigs! No one will buy burnt bread!" she shouted, just as I had expected, and threw the hot loaves at me. They burned my hands but I didn't care. She continued to shout at me, cursing and threatening to hurt me for my idiocy, as I scurried out the door. She slammed it behind me and I looked back to make sure she wasn't watching me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Katniss lying down under the tree. She hadn't moved since I checked last, and I panicked for a moment until I saw a steady rise and fall of her chest, and I noticed her eyes trained on me with curiosity, I rip off a few small chunks of the bread and toss them to the pig. Then without looking at her or acknowledging her in any way, I toss her the first loaf, then the second. She catches both in surprise and I trudge back into the bakery. I couldn't keep my mother waiting, not in the state of anger that she is in…then again, she is always angry.

I look out the window to see that Katniss had left with the loaves and probably was on her way home, back to her mother and her sister. I smiled slightly and sighed, relieved. Somehow I knew that she would be ok…