I slip into the dungeon unnoticed and make my way to his cell. The execution isn't for another few days, but it is my job to hear his final request. The law permits me to grant all requests within reason prior to his last day alive. Even the most vial criminals get a parting gift before their death.

He is charged with murdering the mayor's daughter, Madge. She had been my best friend since childhood so I volunteered to end the life of her killer, Peeta Mellark. He is the baker's boy, the one who decorates the cakes that my sister loves so much. He was the only one in the bakery at the time Madge's body was discovered.

Peeta and I went to school together. I don't know him well, but he has always been kind to me. He used to bake me cheese buns when we were little. It's a shame that such a gentle child grew up to be a murderer.

"Hello, Mr. Mellark," I say coldly as his cell comes into view.

He looks up at me from his spot on the ground. His hands and feet are bound with fetters, preventing him from making any sudden movements. "Come to finish me off, sweetheart?" His curly blonde hair sits in an unruly mess upon his head, and his body is covered in dark bruises. The peacekeepers must have beaten him.

"Not yet." Against my better judgement, I unlock the door to his room and step inside. Peeta makes no attempt to escape."I've come to hear your dying wish."

He offers me a small smile. "How kind of you." His eyes drift close and he leans his head against the wall, lost in thought. "May I spend the rest of my life in a more comfortable place?"

The hopelessness in his voice overwhelms me. He has given up on life, given up on ever getting out of here. It's hard to believe that the pitiful man in front of me is a cold blooded killer. "I will talk it over with the head executioner."

"Thank you, Katniss." Tears drip down his face as he speaks. "I'm glad that you will be the one to end my life."

I'm taken aback by his words. "Why is that?"

"You're not cruel, not like them. You won't make me suffer," he whispers.

That's when I notice the burns on his pale skin. What did they do to him? A beating or two is fine, but torturing a prisoner is against the rules! "Who did this to you?"

"The mayor himself. Madge's father."

I am beside myself with anger. The mayor's rage over his daughter's death is justifiable, but he has no right to make Peeta's life a living hell. The poor boy is going to be dead within a week. Why should he have to spend his final days in agony? "I'll get you out of here, I promise."

I turn on my heel and exit the room, leaving the door unlocked. He won't escape. Peeta isn't the kind of person to run away from his punishment.

The hall to the head executioner's office is in disarray. Weapons lay scattered on the floor, making it impossible to walk. I trip over the handle of an ax and fall to the ground in a heap. Haymitch Abernathy will get a thorough tongue-lashing for this mess. "Head Executioner Abernathy, your ax nearly cut off my leg!"

"Sorry," he grumbles from inside the office. The smell of white liquor spills out into the hallway, gagging me.

"You're not supposed to be drinking on the job," I remind him as I stomp into his office. How he got promoted is beyond me. "I'm here about Mr. Mellark's request."

He throws the empty liquor bottle at the wall, shattering it into a million tiny pieces. "Murder in District 12 is almost unheard of. The boy really dug his own grave by committing such a horrible crime."

After visiting him moments ago, I'm beginning to have my doubts that he is the culprit. The only evidence we have against him is the fact that Madge's body was found in his family's bakery. His parents and brothers were ruled out as suspects because Peeta was the only one in the building at the time of her death. "He wants to live out his remaining days in comfort."

"Out of the question," Haymitch snaps, opening another bottle. "If he were to escape, the mayor would have our heads."

"What if he were to stay with me?" I ask. "I'll shoot him instantly if he tries anything."

Haymitch considers my words. "Well..." He takes a sip of the alcohol before continuing. "I guess that will work. Fine. I'll allow it."

I grab my bow and a sheath of arrows from the rack of weapons beside his desk. "I take full responsibility for Mr. Mellark's actions from now on."

An uncomfortable silence falls between us as we walk back to Peeta's cell. The head executioner is tasked with reading the prisoner his final rights. We usually deal with thieves, not murderers. It's hard to say whether or not he will be given the same rights as a thief.

Peeta hasn't moved an inch since I left. It's good to see that I haven't misjudged him. "You will be staying with me for the rest of your life," I tell him.

Haymitch is glaring daggers at me. "You left the door unlocked? The punishment for letting a prisoner escape is death!"

"That's why I didn't run away. I don't want Katniss to die in my place." There is honesty in those blue eyes of his.

"Just read him his rights," I say flatly.

Haymitch pulls a small book from his pocket and flips through the pages. "Murderer... murderer... Ah, here it is. The rights for a murderer are as follows. You may have five minutes to say goodbye to your family before the execution."

My jaw drops in shock. "That's it?" Thieves get the right to a last meal, an hour with their family, and they may pick the weapon used for their execution.

"That's it," he confirms with a frown. "I was expecting a last meal."

I notice the skin around Peeta's wrists and ankles has been rubbed raw by the shackles. "Am I allowed to remove his fetters?"

"Let me see." Haymitch glances down at the book in his hands. "It doesn't say." He sighs in frustration and stuffs it back into his pocket. "I don't think it's a good idea, but it's your call." With that said, I am handed the key to Peeta's shackles.

I don't hesitate to unlock the fetters and remove them from his body. He rubs the red lines left by the iron shackles. "Are we done here?" I ask Haymitch.

"Yeah. Let me get back to my break now." He staggers off down the hall to his office.

I carefully help Peeta to his feet and allow him to lean on my shoulder. It's obvious that he hasn't used his legs in awhile. "Are you alright?"

"My whole body hurts."

I lead him back to my house and let him rest on the couch. The burns are fresh and must be unbearably painful. My mind races as I try to remember what my mother would use to treat burns. Aloe. I dig through the my family's medical supplies until I find what I'm looking for. "This might hurt," I tell him. He gasps as my fingers massage aloe into the inflamed skin. "I'm not much of a healer. My mother and sister would be more helpful to you, but they are away on business in the Capitol."

He smiles through the pain. "It's okay. I'm a convict, remember? I don't deserve your kindness."

I repeat the words my mother used to say. "Everyone deserves kindness."

"Not me. Oh god, not me." Peeta buries his face in his hands and sobs. "It's my fault. She died because I wasn't paying attention."

My breath catches in my throat. What does he mean by that? It sure doesn't sound like he killed her. "Tell me what happened."

It takes him a moment to compose himself. "I went into the kitchen to check on the bread that was in the oven..." He takes a shaky breath and continues. "There were two customers in the bakery, Madge and a man. I left them alone together."

I quickly piece together the rest of his story. This man killed Madge and fled the scene, leaving Peeta to discover the body. When he reported it, the peacekeepers arrested him for murder. "You didn't do it," I breath.

"Of course not. I've know you and Madge since kindergarten!" He looks down at his hands. "But it doesn't matter what I say. The mayor believes I'm guilty."

I can't go through with this. I can't execute an innocent man, especially not Peeta. Not the boy who always gave me free bread. "Do you remember what the man looked like?"

He reaches out to touch my braid, and a shiver runs down my spine. It's not an unpleasant feeling. "He had dark hair and gray eyes. The two of you could have been related."

The description is too vague for me to identify the culprit. Lots of people from the Seam have dark hair and gray eyes. "Any distinguishable features?"

"Not that I recall." He brushes his fingers through my hair and sighs softly. "I'm sorry about your best friend. It's my fault. I should have been watching them. I should have protected her."

I dismiss his words with a shake of my head. "It wasn't your job to protect her." Does Peeta believe he deserves to be punished for a crime he didn't commit? Of course he does. He feels responsible for her death.

"She died on the cold floor of the bakery," he says through a sob.

I quickly realize that I need to prove his innocence. If I execute him, then I will be just as bad as Madge's murderer. How can I shoot an arrow through his heart when I know he didn't do anything wrong?

I thought it would be fun to write a story where everyone except the reader and Katniss believe that Peeta is guilty. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Stay tuned!