I sat down cautiously on the musty old couch. It exhaled a generous amount of dust along with the stench of liqour and vomit. I wrinkle my nose in disgust. It was amazing how Haymitch could make anything smell like him, even with a maid service coming daily to his house. As if on cue, he stumbles out of the bathroom, wiping his face. "You still here, sweetheart?" he asks, reaching for another bottle of wine. I pull it away from his grasp just in time. He trips, manages to steady himself and scowls at me. "Yes I'm here. And I won't leave until you tell me what I want to hear. Where is Peeta? Why din't he tell me where he was going?" I demand. "And I'm telling you again, I have absolutely no idea. He never told me anything. Now why don't you take yourself home and take a nap or something?" he says, infuriating me even more. I smash the bottle of wine on the ground before storming out of his house. I hear Haymitch yelling, but I ignore him.
I trudge into my house and lock the door. I pull off my father's jacket and set it on the hanger. I am less careful with my other clothes, pulling them off and tossing them away on the way to the bathroom. It really doesn't matter since I live alone now. My mother harldy ever calls because of her work and Prim...I try my hardest not to think about her. But every night, the haunting images of her being turned into flames flash in front of my eyes. I fill the bathtub with hot water and get in, with my underclothes on. My head starts throbbing where Johanna hits, a reminder that the games still affect my life. The pain and nightmares have gotten worse these days. Ever since Peeta left. I submerge myself in the water and close my eyes. Where did he go? Why din't he tell me? Usually, his steady arms are my saviours from the nightmares. But the steadiness of his arms has deteriorated. Ever since his capture after the Quarter Quell, he has been struggling to keep his sanity. I break the surface of the water, gasping for air. His relapses have been more frequent lately. His last one was the worst. And it could have been his tipping point.
*flashback* *a week ago*
"Peeta, I'm going hunting. I can't stay in bed any longer." I call out. I'm supposed to be on bedrest after I sprained my right arm and leg while hunting. I climb down the stairs and grab my gear. I turn around to see Peeta standing with his back to me. "Did you hear me Peeta? I said I'm going hunting." I say. He doesn't react. "Peeta?" I say slowly. My stomach clenches as he swivels around. His pupils are dialated and his bright blue eyes have darkened to look almost black. He is having a relapse. "Mutt." he growls, slowly moving towards me. Instinctively, I back away from him. He looks manic as he raises his hands, still advancing. "Peeta! I'm not a mutt!" I say now backing away more quickly. He lunges forward and I feel myself slam against the kitchen wall. I'm trapped. Peeta closes his fingers around my neck. "P-Peeta...no.." I say. His grip tightens around my neck. I start seeing bright red spots in front of my eyes. "MUTT!You killed my family." he yells. "No..I din't.." I whisper, tears escaping my eyes. He lets go of me and I fall to the ground, gasping for air. He pulls me by my hair and drags me to the staircase. I'm yelling his name a thousand times, but he doesn't listen. He slams me against the bottom stairs. I feel blood dripping down my face. He pulls me up onto my feet and slaps me in the face. "HAYMITCH! HAYMITCH HELP!" I yell as loudly as I can. "No one will save you! I will kill you and then everything will be back to normal." he snarls at me, yanking my hair so hard that I cry out in pain. I try escaping, but he just grips both my hands and twists them. "Peeta..Peeta please, come back to me." I sob. He lets out a manic laugh and pulls my hair again. My eyes go in and out of focus. Suddenly I hear the front door bang open. Peeta turns around and taking advantage of his lapse in concentration, I wrench myself away and run up the stairs. I hear him coming and I try to run faster. I feel him grab my leg and I fall down. "No way you're escaping." he says, and bangs my head against the stairs. The last thing I hear is Haymitch's voice yelling my name before I black out completely.
When I wake up, I'm in a soft bed. My head feels like it's gonna explode. I try to sit up, but I find a blonde head on my stomach. I suddenly remember the whole thing. I run my fingers through his blonde curls, tears flowing down my cheeks. I made him into this terrible creature. He stirs and I move my hand away. He straigtens up and looks at me. He looks utterly devastated. His eyes have dark bags under them and he is wearing the same clothes. His eyes have retuned to their normal blue, but they are also wet. "Peeta.." I whisper. "I-I'm so sorry Katniss!" he cries out, startling me. Peeta is generally a calm person. I try to talk but he just says "I-I could have killed you..I can't do this anymore..I'm a danger to you.."he sobs. I take his hand in mine and say "No, you just lost control" . He laughs . "You can't say that everytime." He kisses my hand gently and whispers "I love you..and I'm sorry." He gets up and leaves. "Peeta! Wait!" I call after him. I try to get up but I am so woozy, I have to sit back down. "Woah sweetheart, not so fast." says Haymitch, entering the room. He gives me some pills which I drink. I immediately feel drowsy. "Haymitch.." I mumble. "Shh. You sleep." he says, covering me with a duvet. "Peeta..Peeta.." I say, fighting the drowsiness. "I'll talk to him. " I hear Haymitch say. "Peeta.." I whisper before slumping onto my pillows and falling asleep.
*end flashback*
Peeta's been missing since then. I bury my face in my hands. He's gone. I'm sure of it. And I couldn't stop him.
I finish my bath and get out of the water. I change into my pyjamas and get ready for bed, even though it's still about 10 in the morning. I slump down on my pillows and try to fall asleep. Suddenly, I hear the front door opening. I jump out of bed and down the stairs, hoping it's Peeta. I come into the living room and my breath gets caught in my throat. It's not Peeta. Or Haymitch.
"Gale?"