A/N: So, this is my very first Hunger Games fanfic! I really hope people read this since I worked super hard on this! Stayed up till 1 am twice in a row just to finish this. I got this idea from a video I saw on Youtube a few months ago. I will have the link on the bottom for those of you who want to see the video, its pretty good! Well enjoy my fanfic!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or characters in it; I also do not own this idea.
It was a mostly peaceful night in the Merchant side of District 12, only mostly peaceful because there was one house in the area that was filled with the sounds of two people arguing.
The Baker of District 12, George Mellark, was having one of his nightly arguments with his wife, Gertrude. It was no secret among the residents of District 12 that the kind baker was married to a woman who could only be described as a witch, and that description is usually only used by those who are kind enough not to go further. It was also no secret that out of her three sons, the youngest of them was her favorite target for both verbal and physical abuse.
Young Peeta Mellark was no older than 9, although to those who don't know him he would seem a bit younger. Like most people who live in the Merchant side of town, he has blonde hair and blue eyes. However compared to others his eyes always seemed just a tad bit brighter. Despite his mother's constant abuse, he is just as kind and quiet as his father.
Peeta is current laying in his bed while listening to his parent's argument. He doesn't know what his parents even argue about half the time, and sometimes he thinks that they might not even know. He always hates when they argue, but the worst is when his mother raises the rolling pin to her husband. Even though she only uses it during particularly heated arguments, Peeta still cringes when he hears the loud thud of wood meeting flesh. It reminds him of all the times he was on the receiving end of that rolling pin and the pain it brings, since Peeta feels his mother's wrath far more often than his father does.
Peeta hears some movement coming from his closet. It sounded as if someone…or something was trying to get out.
"Peeta…" whispers a voice coming from the same direction of his closet. This is not the first time Peeta has ever heard this voice. Oh no! He has heard this voice many times before this. You see, the voice only ever seems to call for him whenever his parents start to argue. The voice has always frightened him but he does his best to ignore it. Peeta is currently clutching his comforter as if it were a life line, eyes closed as if that will some how block out the Voice.
"Peeta…" he heard the voice whisper again as a particularly loud shout came from down stairs, making him open his eyes in shock. He sees a shadow out of the corner of his eye. The slow, drawn out creek of his closet door opening is all the invitation little Peeta needs before he runs out of his room as fast as he can.
The adrenaline his fear provided him with clouded his better judgment, so instead of running into one of his brother's room (how they manage to sleep through their parent's arguments he will never know), he instead ran all the way down stairs to where his family's bakery is located. The downstairs bakery is unusually the fighting stage for his parent's arguments.
When he finally reaches the bottom of the stairs his parents stop their bickering for a few moments to see who was still awake.
"What do you want boy!" his mother demands, right hand still clutching the rolling pin tightly. Under his mother's glare Peeta quickly began to stammer out his excuse.
"I-I heard a noise coming from my c-closet and I got scared so I came d-down hear. I-I think there might be a monster in my closet."
Peeta was looking at the floor during the entirety of his to avoid his mother's scathing glare. He couldn't tell what expression his father was wearing, but knowing the kind of man his father was, Peeta could guess he was watching him with concern.
His mother abruptly laughs, causing Peeta to look up from his special staring spot on the floor. Peeta didn't have to see her face to know that his mother's laugh was as mocking, cruel, and harsh as a laugh can get.
"And here I thought you weren't stupid enough to believe in that shit!" his mother sneered, paying no mind to her son's cringe at her harsh words.
"There are no such things as monsters, now go back upstairs and get back into bed before I give you something to really be afraid of!" she says, raising her rolling pin in a menacing manner.
Not saying another word for dear of feeling the unforgiving sting of the rolling pin he quickly runs up the stairs without a backwards glance, completely forgetting what he was so afraid of to begin with
A week or so after the incident Peeta Mellark lay in his bed again while his parents argued, yet again. However this argument seemed far more heated than their average fight.
His mother was screaming at the top of her lungs and if he could see her now he was sure she would be beet red in the face. His father, despite his usual soft spoken demeanor was just as loud as his wife was now.
"That's it! I'm done with this!" Peeta could hear his father yell all the way up the stairs. He could now hear large clamoring steps being taken up the stairs that could only belong to his father. A set of slightly lighter footfalls soon following.
"And just where the hell do you think you are going!?" His mother's voice bellowed, now probably in the hallway outside of Peeta's room.
"I'm taking the kids and we're leaving Gertrude! I can't take anymore of your yelling and abuse!" Peeta could hear his father opening a door probably to his parent's room.
"You cannot leave me George you know you can't!" his mother all but screeched when she reached the same door.
Getting more and more curious Peeta crawled out of his bed and quietly crept to his bedroom's door. He silently opened his bedroom door to just a crack big enough for one of his brilliantly bright blue eyes to see through. Peeta was surprised to see his father coming out of the bedroom with a few fully packed suit cases. Those had to have been packed a head of time. Peeta's nine year old brain was racing with the possibilities of what it could mean.
"And where do you think you'll be staying at? The community shelter!?" she yelled loudly at her husband, he currently couldn't see his mother but knowing her like he does Peeta was sure her face was twisted in a mix between mocking and sneering.
"We'll stay with my brother. And we're only moving out temporarily, the bakery is still mine. I won't have to share it since it was my legal right before I even met you. I'll only let you stay until the divorce papers are sent in. Then my sons and I will move back in and you'll be the once moving out Gertrude!" Peeta couldn't believe what he was hearing. His dad actually had a plan, a plan that sounded legit! A plan his father clearly had at the back of his mind for a really long time and clearly planned on going through with. Peeta was over come with a feeling he hasn't felt in a very long time, Joy.
Peeta was so happy that he lost some of his better judgment and opened his door fully. He had the full intent of jumping into his father's strong arms and hugging him as hard as he could. Peeta still couldn't believe this was happening. He always dreamt of the day his father would finally get sick of it all and whisk him and his brothers away from the evil witch to a place where she could never hurt Peeta and his father ever again. But what's even better is that they will still have the bakery! Peeta always loved baking and the thought of being able to do it without the constant fear of getting yelled at or hit for messing up the pettiest little detail was almost just as overwhelming as everything else was to Peeta. It all just felt like a wonderful dream.
Little did Peeta know that his dream was about to turn into a nightmare.
As soon as Peeta opened his door completely, his ears was met with the sickening *crack* of a rolling pin. What Peeta saw next would haunt his dreams for years to come. Through Peeta's eyes the whole scene before him looked like one of those "slow motion recaps" he has seen in the Hunger Games before. The type where the editor of the footage for the games would slow down a particularly brutal scene for everyone in the audience to drink in every horrid detail. Yes, this was definitely the correct comparison to Peeta, since the scene before him was indeed very brutal.
His father's strong and stocky frame shook when the rolling pin met with the back of his head. He could then see his father's eyes roll all the way to back of his head, something Peeta thought was impossible prior to the incident. Then his father's body slowly crumpled to the ground, looking no stronger than a rag doll at the moment. The sight of blood seeping into the carpet from his father's head wound quickly snapped Peeta into action. Her ran as fats as his nine year old legs could carry him. He pushed the long forgotten suit cases out of the was so he could be closer to his injured father. To anyone a dew years older, the head injury would have looked bad but still fixable. However Peeta is still very young and very scared, so like most young children who have ever seen a bad injury, Peeta quickly jumped to the worst conclusion possible. The injury was fatal.
"Nooo!" Peeta screamed at the top of his lungs, despair quickly overriding any and all feelings of joy he had felt just a few moments before.
A feeling of dread starts to mingle with the despair Peeta was feeling as he saw a shadow looming over him. When Peeta looked up he was not the least bit surprises to see it was his mother, looking beet red in the face.
"What're you doin' out of bed boy!" she practically growled out. In this light she really did look as wicked as the witch she is often accused of being and as horrible as a monster.
Then Peeta heard it. That little voice he hasn't heard since the last incident.
"Peeta…let me…I want o get out so badly…" The voice whispered from his bedroom. That was the most Peeta has ever heard the Voice whisper. So far and soon after the Voice was done talking he could hear a rattling coming from within his room. It sounded as if someone wanted to get out.
"Answer me boy!" his mother was getting impatient. Peeta was now at a fork in the road. He could stay and face his mother's wrath or he could run to his room and unleash whom…or what ever it was from his room. After mulling it over Peeta realized something. As much as the Voice terrified him, his mother was always the scariest thing Peeta could imagine.
Without thinking any longer he ran into his room, straight for his closet since he was positive that was where the source of the Voice could be found, completely ignoring whatever threats his mother was making.
Peeta's closet was never too big or too small and since he didn't have much to store in it the only thing remarkable in his closet was the full body length mirror hanging from the left wall of the closet. Peeta could just barely make out his reflection in the mirror but when he did he was shocked to see his doppelganger had scarlet red eyes instead of brilliant blue.
"Who are you?" Peeta asked, suddenly worried that maybe he would have been better off with his mother when the doppelganger replied.
"I'm you silly." His voice was that of The voice, and it was only now that Peeta realized the voice sounded almost like himself, only childish in a very creepy kind of way.
"H-How is that possible?" Peeta was still skeptical but at the sound of his mother's approaching footsteps he found himself caring less and less.
"I'm you and you're me. I've been wanting to get out to play for the longest time! Won't you free me? "Doppelganger asked, in a sickeningly sweet way.
"How?" Peeta asked, unsure of what he was able to do, panic rising in his chest when he heard his mother getting closer.
"Just touch the glass." It was a strange but simple request. Peeta slowly got up from his spot on the closet floor and inched his way to the mirror. He cautiously laid his palm upon the cool surface of the glass. His doppelganger smirked. And just like that, the mirror shattered.
Peeta's mother slowly approached her son's room. Thoughts of every sort of punishment she could think of short of killing him came to her mind. Because after all being arrested for murder won't do well for her reputation.
When she finally reached his room she sees no sign of her son. "Typical of the brat to run and hide, just like his father…" the Witch thought to herself. Suddenly she heard a shuffling noise coming from the closet.
With her face twisting inti an evil smirk she said in a deceptive sing-song voice, "Come out, come out where ever you are…you little shit!" the last part she screeched as she flung open the closet door. What she saw when she opened it however was not what she expected.
The floor of the closet was littered with the remains of shattered glass. In the far corner of the closet she could see little Peeta Mellark, balled up in an almost fetal position. His bangs provided shadows that hid his eyes from his mother's piercing glare. If she had seen his eyes a second earlier, the perhaps she would have had a chance to react.
"What the hell did you do in-Ahh!" The witch's yelling was cut short when her son leaped on her with inhuman speed and started clawing at her head.
"Ahh! Get off of me!" she screeched at the top of her lungs in horror. She continued screaming until she felt the sharp stabbing pain of something going through her gut. Only then did Peeta let go of his mother, if only to see the pure look of shock and horror on her face.
When the witch looked down she could see a long and jagged shard of glass sticking out of her pudgy stomach she stumbled backwards until her back hit the wall and it was only then did she finally get a good look at Peeta's eyes. They were not their usual bright blue, but a dangerous and dark scarlet red. He had a twisted grin on his face that made him look demented and blood thirsty. That look alone scared the living hell out of the Witch.
"Y-You're a m-monster." She stuttered out weakly, her lips getting painted with her own blood. Peeta chucled darkly in response to her realization and their faces were only mere inches apart in a matter of seconds.
"But you said there were no such thing as monsters, mother!" And with that he jammed another shard of glass he had hidden on his person right through her throat. The last thing the witch would ever see as she slowl drowned in her own blood is her son's eyes turning from a deep scarlet red back to their original bright blue.
Once Peeta's eyes went completely normal once more, he decided to assess the damage. His mother- no the witch- was sure to be almost dead by now, if not already there. Her blood made quit the mess; some of it even gets on Peeta! But he could care less at the moment.
At the sound of a groan coming from the hallway Peeta quickly turned to see his father slowly regaining conciseness.
"Dad!" Peeta cheered happily, feeling ecstatic that his father was not dead after all. He ran over to his father and hugged him tightly around the neck.
"W-What happened, Peeta? Where is your mother?" he asked, voice cracking from disuse and fear that his soon to be former wife had done something horrid to their son while he was out.
"Don't worry dad, she'll never hurt us, ever again." If Peeta wasn't still hugging his father, then he might have noticed his son's eyes go from their usual bright blue to a deep scarlet red…
The End
A/N: Well there you have it! I hate Peeta's mom so I could not resist killing her in such a painful way! I also gave her the ugliest name I could think of, sorry to those of you who know people named Gertrude… Well Please Read and Review! I would absolutely appreciate as many reviews as possible! : )