I stare at the Tv. Its Christmas morning, just like every morning; nothing special. The children wear no smiles; they never do. Peeta watches them with a hawk like intent. I have given them no presents, but Peeta has baked them cupcakes; again.

He leans forward- the boy child flinches; I don't know why- and picks up two boxes. "Merry Christmas!" he says with a grin.

"I do not want anything from you." the girl child says, "From either of you."

I look over at Peeta, his eyes grow dark. His breathing quickens. "What did you say?" he says in a voice that sounds like a hiss.

"I'm sick of your cupcakes!" the girl child says a bit louder.

Peeta throws the boxes down and grabs at his hair, ripping it out in bloody full fists. One lesson I have learned since the Hunger Games is that dandelions are weeds. They are bitter to the mouth and take hold of your lawn. Its no wonder people hate them.

He is breathing in and out. In and out, his breathes coming deeper faster. His face is reddening with blood. His veins are puckering out of his skin. I look away and wrap my arms around my legs.

"Ok!" I hear the girl child say "I want the cupcakes. I want them."

I hear Peeta's breath slow. "Open your gifts!" he says, his voice cracks at the word gift. "Katniss, look! The kids are unwrapping their gifts. Don't you want to look?"

"No." I say

"Damn it!" he screams and I hear something a wall. I wonder what he threw, "look!"

"It looks the same as last year." I say.

He grabs my shoulders and shakes me. "Look you mutt!" he screams.

I turn my head and look at the children.

The boy child opens his box and tears fill his eyes. The frosting has been smeared all across the box; their gifts ruined.

"You and your stupid temper!" the girl child screams, "If you hadn't thrown the box he would not be crying right now!"

"Shut your ugly face!" Peeta screams back, "I threw them because you said you didn't want them! Tell them Katniss. Tell them that they said they didn't want them!"

I say nothing.

Peeta shakes me again. His fingers digging sharply into my shoulder, "Tell them!" he shouts.

"You said you didn't want them." I say blankly.

The girl child takes the cupcake and smashes it between her fingers, "Damn right I don't." she says and throws it at the wall. "And what did you get me Katniss?" she hisses.

I say nothing.

"What did you get him?" she says and points at the boy child.

I say nothing.

"Want to know what Haymitch gave him? Huh? Huh? That no good loser? A hangover! That's what!"

Finally. What I was waiting for; Gale is on TV. He is on TV a lot these days. Sometimes I still wander into the forest and sit by our log. I know one day he will show up beside me. I sing to the Mockingjays sometimes. But then never sing back anymore.

"So Mr. Hawthorne, tell us how it feels to be considered one of the Districts' smartest men?" The host asks Gale.

Gale is at the Christmas Day Parade in the capital with his wife and children. They were invited by the president; Gale is friends with the president.

"Well, wouldn't say smartest with old Beetee still around but I would say I'm one of the luckiest. I've got a wonderful wife that I love more then life and who loves me in return. I've got the cutest kids which I also love to death. I have an amazing job that allows me to protect the districts and use my love for inventing things at the same time. I'm friends with the President, Head of Defense and almost all District leaders. I'm rich, as is my wife; we are both powerful and on top of the world. Life couldn't be better."

"Well put Mr. Hawthorne, now tell us; how did you become so lucky?"

"I would have to say back during the revolution. Though it was President Snow who deployed the double exploding bomb I had the original idea for the bomb, but not for dropping it on a bunch of kids. That was just sick. I moved to District Two and started a new life in weapon development. After a few months I meet my lovely wife and life just kept getting better and better."

I glance at the women sitting next to Gale. They are holding hands. She is beautiful. I was never beautiful.

I see my daughter. She is glaring at me. Yesterday she told me I was weak. I guess she was right. She hates me, but I have no fire left to fight her. I lost my fire long ago during the revolution. Peeta tells me it will be ok. Buts that's all he says. I try to make a list of all the good things in my life but I can think of none. I crave the fire I once had but it's lost. I am lost. I have been lost since Peeta was taken by the Capitol in the third quarter quell.

Peeta is smiling at me, his smile turns malevolent. Suddenly his fingers are around my throat. "You mutt!" he cries, "You stinking mutant MUTT!"

I don't fight him as he slaps me repeatedly. My children don't even notice. They never do anymore. But, then again, it's so common so why should they?

I close my eyes and drift away to happier times, back when I had Gale, Prim…before I ever went to the Hunger Games, those, those were my best days.

Peeta stops hitting me. Blood runs down his finger tips. Tears run down my face. "Do you love me? Real or not real?" he asks me

I swallow away my fear, "Real," I say and prepare for another blow, but itdoesn't come.

"I'll go bake some bread." He mumbles as he walks away.

I stand and look out a window. I see Haymitch drinking. He came over last night. He just drank really. My boy child had gotten a hold of the bottle. He got drunk as well, though he threw up, he has a fever now. Peeta gave him a cupcake.

I can hear Haymitch over the TV, he is shouting "Marry F-ing Christmas" again. He's been saying and singing it periodically throughout the day. I like Haymitch.

The phone rings and I answer it. "Hello?" I say

"Merry Christmas." Geasy Sae says in a monotone voice; I wonder who paid her to call.

Just another day. They are all like this. I think I might go hunting, but its just never the same. It hasn't been since I went to my first hunger games. What was the point of going for Prim if she was going to die anyway? If I had none that, I would have never volunteered. Or rather I would have simply just killed Peeta in the area instead of preparing to eat those stupid berries.

I dream of Prim still. My nightmares haven't gone away; but Peeta's arms have, his care has. He doesn't help me anymore. His strength has left him, just like mine did after I exploded the arena.

I should have known this would happen. I should have known that dandelions can't sustain a life. But fire, people need fire to live. I have lost mine and Peeta never had any fire. I guess that's why we don't live.

The boy child's body is shaking. I wonder what is wrong but make no move to help him. What is the point? Everything ends with death; no true hope can survive in the world.

I focus back on the TV, trying to escape my dark reality. If only I had had a choice, but it never presented itself. "Mrs. Hawthorne," the announcer says, "Tell us your opinion of war, since we know your husband's." He adds with a smile.

"War. It's full of death and despair without a doubt, but with that death comes hope. No one wants to fight. No one wants to kill. At least no one who is fighting for good, but that's why good must fight evil. If good didn't try to overrule evil, evil would simply overrule good with ceaseless cruelty. No matter how much you wish it; you can't compromise with evil. You may think you can but it will bite you back and bite you back hard.

"People say they is no justice in war, they say it's nothing but death on death; hopeless, pointless. But, as humans, we have every right to fight for what is ours, to fight for our freedom, to fight for justice. You were given this life and you have every right to make it your own.

"If you don't fight for what rightfully yours greedy and evil people will take it away. They won't have remorse and they don't care for you. No matter how long you wait they never will. You can give and give, relent and relent but they will just take and take. The more you give evil the more it takes.

"That is why you must fight. People say war is pointless. If you don't believe in the cause then this is true, this renders every death a pointless one, this makes it nothing but mindless slaughter. But if you believe in what you fight for, if you desire truth and justice, you will gladly lay down your life for your cause. And every death is that of a hero to be remembered in glory for all time; those die for some of the best causes and noble causes.

"That is why they is justice in war. Some may claim it nothing but evil, but if you believe this you are weak. You will roll over and let people live your life for you. I say and believe that you should be passionate about life. Live your life; it's the only one you have. Fight for yours rights, don't expect someone to do it for you."

Gale is smiling at her. He never smiled at me like that. I wish he did. Or I use to wish that. I wish he was a least my friend.

"I wish you had come and visit me, that you had come back and lived in District Twelve, but you never came. You betrayed me Gale." I whisper

"You know," the girl child says, "If you wanted to see him so damn badly you could have gone to see him yourself. Why did you sit around and wait for him to show up? You could have easily picked up a phone and called him at least. If you want to blame someone blame yourself."

I say nothing because; what can I say? I look back at the TV.

"I think the past needs to be let go and forgotten, well to an extent anyways." Gale says, "As far as the wars goes I can't still live in it. I have to move on or I won't survive; but no one would. Anyone who is still clinging on to those days must be pretty miserable. That was a dark time and I'm glad to be out of it. Of course I never want to forget those who died for the freedom I now have, but I mourned them daily I would go crazy.

"My family and I have a tradition. Every year on the day the revolution ended we commemorate those who fought and died for our freedom, but the next day we have a celebration to celebrate life and what their lives won for us. It's good to remember them but if you're miserable their deaths were for nothing. And quite frankly these past twenty years have been the best in my life I have everything to be happy about."

"Well, thank you for joining us Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne, just one more question before we let you go." The announcer says, "Mr. Hawthorne, there are numerous people who have suggested that you run for president; are there any plans of that in your future? After all, who better to lead our country then a war hero?"

Gale smiles, he has an excited glint in his eyes, he winks "Well. I guess we shall see."

I curl into a ball as the sent of fresh bread fills the room. Gale is not on the TV anymore.

"I baked some bread." Peeta says

I look at him and there is that look again. I know what will happen tonight. And after he will ask me "Do you love me? Real or not real?" and I will say real because after that who could say otherwise. That's all it was for Peeta, our 'relationship' could be summed up in one word: lust.

"Why is he shaking?" Peeta cries as he looks at the boy child.

I look over. The whites of his eyes are showing. "I don't know." I say and stare emptily at Peeta. His eyes are wide. Confusion fills them. "Do something Katniss!" he screams, "Damn it! Do something!" He puts his hands over his ears and falls to the ground shaking. Over and over he mumbles "Do something, do something."

"You're are both useless!" the girl child screams as she kicks Peeta, "You do something you useless blob! Why do you always ask Katniss to do it? Do someone beside cooking and frosting for freaking once! She is useless! Can't you tell? Her mind is so broken and you just lay there and ask her to do everything! Pathetic!"

The front door flings open. Police rush in. I wonder if they are here to kill me.

"Peeta and Katniss Mellark you have here by found guilty of child neglect. We are taking your children away from you. They are going to be put in a good orphanage. You are here by relinquished of your rights and duties to them.

I watch as the girl child cries out in joy. The boy doesn't move much at all. They pick him up and lead her out of the house. As quickly as they came they are gone.

Peeta is looking at me again. "You MUTT!" he cries as he lands another blow.

Merry Christmas I think to myself.