Ahhh, I'm super excited to be posting my first story on here after months of reading and following other authors xP Finally got my courage up to dust off my brain's typewriter and start publishing some stuff again. Anywho, enjoy! Loose-interpretation of Catching Fire.

~Save Me From Myself: Chapter 1~

I had never envisioned my life like this- especially the turn of events that brought me here. The feelings that never possessed me now hit me at full force every time I woke from my nightmares. My guilt. My disgust. My emptiness. The status, riches and supposed glory given to me would never hold a flame to the inferno this "Girl on Fire" was thrown into- everything I thought I was- ripped to shreds for the sake of the Capitol's entertainment. But a single beacon of light shone through my darkness, enveloping me, saving me from myself.

Looking back, I can now see how blind I was to it. I chose to be- I chose to remain ignorant to his love so I wouldn't have to be vulnerable again to something I couldn't control. I couldn't love him for that purpose, for the thought of having no control over what happened to him. I'd lost too many I gave my love freely to. My father... Rue...

Oh how I longed to go back to the days where I could remain passive even in such dismal places in life. At least there I was allowed my sadness, even as I chose not to take it. But now, as victor of the 74th annual Hunger Games, "blessed" with riches that would surpass my years, I was entitled, no, required to be the perfectly happy. I was required to play my part as one of the star crossed lovers of district 12. Guilt. Its all I could feel when thinking of him in these past few months after our victory tour... Him. I couldn't even say his name.

My eyes adverted from the patch of wall I'd been staring at as a knock sounded on the front door. I thought about moving from this comfortable place in bed, but decided against it.. But as the odds are ever in my favor, the knocks grew more irritatingly insistent. I let out a begrudging groan, knowing that no one else would be at home this late in the morning. My limbs began to slowly disentangle themselves from the bed covers as I got myself upright. I was fully awake, I had been for awhile, I just had no will or urge to get up and do anything. Once I fully righted myself and got up, I made my way down the hallway, past my mother's, sisters and 3 guest bedrooms. I never understood why we were given so much space, a victor's life is usually a solitary one- look at Haymitch. Only the Capitol would insist on such unnecessary overkill.

I eventually got to the front door that was by now, taking a beating from the individual trying to seek entrance. I opened the door and caught sight of Haymitch, donning the usual drunken stupor.

"Ah it lives." He drawled, walking into my house, invitations of no significance at this point. He sauntered over to the small bar located in the corner of the living room and poured himself a drink.

"Run out of supplies at your pigsty?" I folded my arms across my chest in slight annoyance.

"Why so serious, Sweetheart?" He laughed, depositing himself on my couch and looked at me when I didn't move from my spot. "Loosen your corset, alright?"

I couldn't help but crack a smile at that. I'd remembered the shock painted on Effie's face alongside the neon colors she had decided to use that day. I had tried my best to keep from laughing at that moment. So did Peeta- we both did not favor her scoldings. I paused, my smile dropping from my features. Peeta... is that why Haymitch was here? I looked up at him and saw that he was studying my face with a knowing look.

"He's down at the bakery."

I swallowed dryly. "Haymitch." I stated weakly at the thought of it.

"Don't Haymitch me. You obviously want to go and see him and talk to him."

"I can't." I state firmly, my gaze flickering from his to the ground.

"And why can't you?" He questioned.

"I..." I pondered my thoughts, my teeth catching my lower lip in struggling to wrack my brain for an answer he'd accept. "I just can't."

He nods once, his brow creasing as his index finger slowly circles the rim of the glass that remains half full. "I suspect that your fears are what hold you back. Am I correct?" This was about as sober as I'd ever seen him, apart from the period in which Haymitch remained sober upon demand during our for the games. Our. Peeta and I. I swallowed again dryly, blinking fiercely to regain composure.

"Go. I'm in the mood for cheese buns."

Please review and tell me what you think!

~Rachel