Sitting alone in my house in the victors village, I watch the moment over again. I watch Katniss die. 20 years ago I was a young man. I was fighting for my life in the 74th hunger Games. I was falling for the girl on fire. It was all pretend until I saw her face in the sky. I realized it was real then. How could you not fall for an angel of fire? Who took care of you and got herself killed over you?

I watch as the girl named Clove from 2 carved her face with a delicate knife. I was happy when Cloves face went up in the sky. But cried when I saw that a 12 lit up the screen after the 2. I was sick and nearly dead. My leg was infected and I could barely walk. That much I remember.
"Where's lover boy?" I can hardly comprehend that she meant me. I watched Katniss struggle as the younger girl killed her. Too bad Thresh was late with that stone. The last shot I saw before deleria took me under its wing and flew me away from the fateful scene was Thresh, running away with all three bags.

I have vague memories of the arena, I washed most of the out. I only remember a screen and all 23 tributes dying. 24. I died that year too. But those days after her death haunt me. All I remember first hand. I was injured, but I was able to survive. The mutts chased me and the boy from 2, his name was Cato, to the top of the the Cornucopia. And I knew I needed to survive. Katniss would have wanted it. As Cato tried to kill me, I only thought of her. When he swung at me, I only thought of How she went home in a box, beautiful face unrecognizable. Her family needed her. And now they needed me. They needed help. If not from Katniss then from me. So I killed Cato. I watched him fall and watched him die with no regret. The days after the arena were blurry too. Mostly because I was put in surgery after surgery. Capitol civilians trying to save the almost dead victor. I could barely walk now.

But that was ages ago. Now her sister is a grown woman, with a husband and children. I see Katniss in their little girls face, and Gale in her boys (she married one of Gales brothers). How I wanted children with her. Haymitch and I were the only victors of 12, and when his name was drawn for the 75th games he didn't come Home, leaving me alone in the village of the blessed. The village of sorrows. The house was giant. And so not only did my family live there, but Primrose and her family and her mother. I paid no mind to them. Only sat in my room with my bottles, watching my games over and over again. Each year it gets harder. Our star crossed lovers act was only for the viewers. Why, after nearly 2 decades, did I still love the girl that never loved me?

She would be proud of her sister. The d12 healer, taking after her mother. She is beautiful and it's painful to look at her. Because as she aged, I realized how she looked like her. The way she smiled if not in colouring or hair. And I hated her at times. If she hadn't been chosen, then Katniss wouldn't have gone to the games. She would have been here after. Her whole family intact. But no. Every year it gets harder. Its years to another quarter quell, but each game no tribute come home alive. It might be my fault. But I never remember what happened to them. I couldn't watch any other game than the 74th.

The hunger games were this year. They were every year. But I couldn't stand them this time. The girl looked like Katniss. And I knew she needed to live. For the girl that didn't all those years ago...