I miss you, miss you so bad.

I don't forget you. Oh, it's so sad.

And I hope you can hear me.

I remember it clearly.

The day, you, slipped away,

was the day, I found it won't be the same. Oh.

-Avril Lavigne (I Miss You)

Katniss.

I wrap my arms around him and he does the same. I love him.

It feels wrong, but I had to follow my heart. He didn't even design the bombs! It wasn't his fault!

That's right, you heard me. I'm here with Gale. He never designed the bombs in the first place. Someone else came up with the idea. They asked Gale to make a visual for them. Gale, of course, helped him. When he said that he designed it, he meant that he had designed the visual, not the actual device.

That's my Gale, always trying to help people without thinking about what horrible consequences it might bring.

"You're doing that thing again," he whispers in my ear. Apparently, whenever I think about what happened, I'm in my own little world. I space out and have a blank look on my face.

"Sorry," I say. "It's just, I feel bad."

"I know, but he would have wanted it like this," Gale replies. Now, I know what you must be thinking: wow, funeral talk. If you're thinking that, then you are exactly right.

"Katniss, you actually killed Coin?" Peeta asked me.

"Yeah, she was an evil person, just like Snow was. People just didn't see it because she was the leader, so we ignored how bad she was. If I had to kill him, I would kill her too," I told him.

"Wow, you've got more guts than I th-" he stopped and looked confused. He looked up at me and our eyes locked. I could see the tension in his muscles.

"Peeta, it's just the tracker jacker venom talking. Don't listen. It's lying to you," I said. He was having one of his shiny moments. The moments where he thinks I'm an evil, horrible mutt that deserves to die.

"You tried to kill me," he said.

"No, I didn't. You're having a false memory." I stepped forward, my hands up, showing that I don't have a weapon. "I wouldn't do that."

"But, you did," he said. He slapped me in the face balled up his hands in fists. I held my hand up to my cheek. "You tried to kill me, a lot."

I reached forward and touched his cheek, as I still touched mine. He came out of the hallucination, and realized what he'd done.

"Katniss," he said. "I'm so sorry."

"It's nothing, Peeta," I assured him.

"I hit you," he said, eyes as wide as manholes. "I hit you." He started to slowly back away. I tried to warn him, but he just kept muttering the same words, "I hit her. I hit her."

He backed up into an unsteady shelf. It fell over and crushed him. Many of his ribs broke and he could barely breathe. Eventually, he left the pain that we call life.

"Katniss," Gale says, bringing me back to the present.

"Sorry, again," I say. He nods.

"It's okay," he says. We decided to come back to District 12. So here we are, in the Victors Village house, where Peeta came and checked on me every night. "He's in a better place now."

"I miss him," I say. He nods and kisses my forehead.

"I know. I would too." I almost let myself cry, but I hold it inside. I'm the reason that Peeta is dead.

It's been four years since the rebellion won. I'm 22 and Gale is 24. We got married a year ago, when I was 21. I still haven't let go of Peeta. I still haven't got over his death.

He lies down on a couch and I lie down next to him.

"It's my fault," I say.

"No, it's not. It's no one's fault. It was good that he got to leave the incredible pain he was in."

"But if I had stopped him, he wouldn't be dead," I argued. Gale didn't talk again. We just sat there, thinking.

Gale doesn't mind when I talk about Peeta. I still love him, and Gale knows it, but I can love Gale and Peeta at the same time.

Gale turns his head and kisses me.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too," I reply. I close my eyes and imagine a world where we were together because we met at school and really liked each other, not because we met while hunting illegally and the guy that I loved died.

"Katniss are you okay?" he asks me.

I nod. "Mhm. Why?"

"You keep spacing out," he says.

"Sorry," I say. "I'm just a little frustrated." I turn my head so that he won't see, as I wipe away the forming tears.

I rub my stomach, the stomach that has my baby in it. Yes, Gale and I are having a baby. I couldn't believe it at first either, but I got used to it. I let go of my fear from the past. The Hunger Games are over. The revolution won. My child won't have to fear being reaped. We're all free. It's too bad that Peeta had to die right as we got our freedom.

I wonder what our baby will look like. It will probably have black hair and gray eyes, because that's what both of us have. I wonder what mine and Peeta's baby would look like.

I will not cry. I will not cry.

I imagine Peeta lying next to me, hushing me, telling me it will be alright, letting me cry, and wiping away the tears.

I will cry.A single warm tear runs down my cheek. Yes, I will cry.

Gale wipes away the tear, eyes full of concern. It doesn't help much. It just brings back the memories. The memories of Peeta. The memories that bring pain. The memories that bring more tears. The tears that remind me of Peeta, by blurring my vision, and making everything look shiny. Just like the cause of Peeta's death.

Thanks for reading. Please review!

I know that the song isn't about death, but all of the words go with it. ALL OF THEM! Check out the song. It's really good and it COMPLETELY (100%) goes with this story.