CHAPTER 1

Disclaimer- I don't own The Hunger Games in any way, sadly.

Hi guys! This is my first fanfic- I hope you like it. I don't know what you're supposed to put at the beginning, like a disclaimer or something, so this is my attempt.

Peeta

I hear a roar of a tidal wave, feel the burning fog, and feel a bright light

flash in my eyes as the lightning hits the tree- but as I open them, I

realize that it's not lightning at all, but a cold, sterile-seeming light that's

been turned on above the tiny, dank cell that I huddle in crouched in the

corner. And that the screaming is not Katniss, before she shoots her

arrow at the force field, but Johanna, who I've learned is in the cell next

to mine. I close my eyes shut again, even though dreamland is no better

than reality.

But who am I kidding, I think bitterly, sleeping, or even

going unconscious, won't help me escape them. The ones who

incessantly hurt me. In the beginning, they insisted I knew information,

that I must know something about what the rebels against the Capitol

are planning. Until they realized that there was another, much better

way to use me. To break Katniss. They knew that I loved Katniss, and

that she loved me. Anyone who saw her in the Quarter Quell would tell

you so, even President Snow was convinced finally.

I hear the clanking sound of cold boots, and I curl up in the corner of my

cell in fear, pressing as much of my body against the two walls. I am a

shadow of my former self, the hopeful boy, the one whose muscles

bulged with strength and power, the one whose easy smile and kind

heart charmed a nation in to loving him. But I feel, these days, that the

hopeful boy is lost in the broken young man he's become.

I pull my now-thin legs up to my body, hugging them in terror. I lean the

back of my head against the wall, then pull it forward when I realize that

I've put it against a splatter of blood- my blood- that has not yet dried. I

rub my blond hair- now so dirty with blood and other filth it is a reddish

brown- and brace myself as the door to my cell swings open.

"Look at him!" sneers one. There's three this time. I cover my head and

try to scoot backwards. "What a coward! He just stays in the corner,

whimpering like a baby!" He cackles. "Like a dog!" adds the other. "He

was never really brave and strong like everyone made him out to be,

he's just been relying on her."

No, I think. Not Katniss. Every time they use Katniss against me, I'll

instantly crumple. Even using my terrible self-esteem against me isn't as

bad as what they say about her. I press my hands against my ears,

willing them to just get on with what they're going to do.

Their taunts finally end, and they go over to the corner where I am

huddled, kicking me everywhere they see. I unfold my body as they kick

me, and they manage to kick me repeatedly in the stomach until I roll

over, wheezing for breath. They drag me up roughly, then move their

arms so I slam into the floor, my legs unable to hold up my own body

weight. My eyelids flutter.

No, my mind calls out to me, bringing me back to consciousness. They'll

hurt you more when you're unconscious. Stay strong. For Katniss. I lift my

head off the ground, and using my arms, push myself up until I'm on all

fours. "Now he even looks like a dog!" they say, and they drag me away

into another room.

As my muscles ache, my bones crack, and as my soul is bruised, I feel

something tiny and dark kindled inside of me. It's in the dark chasm of

fear that every day, threatens to eat me alive. It's anger. I am angry at

everyone who did this to me. Don't be angry, says the tiny fragment left

of me that is a hopeful boy. Remember your smile, when you were with

her? Remember happiness? But the tiny flicker that is anger thinks

differently. Why does that matter now? You're not happy now. You don't

smile anymore. And Katniss is gone. You hate these people who hurt you!

You can feel anger at them!

But I am utterly too exhausted to feel anger. I bring myself back to the

stark reality and hear the animal-like screams coming from my throat. I

feel my skin crying out in pain, blood blooming underneath it into

bruises, and feel my blood splatter against the gray walls surrounding

me. I pant, trying to hold on to the glimmer of life left inside me.

They drag me out of my cell again and into the hall. I fall unconscious to

the ground, my body twitching. The people who tortured me- no, the

MONSTERS that did, push me along the hallway's stone floor with their

feet, then kick me inside my miserable cell. I barely manage to crawl up

into my little corner and I moan, a moan heavy with misery with

everything that's happened to me.

Be strong! Remember Katniss! She's probably watching you now, trying to

find a way to get you out! Cries the hopeful boy inside me. But he is

drowned by the blood of misery pumping out of me. All I feel is fear, and

I think that the hopeful boy who once thrived, who was once my whole

being and who I was, is now truly gone, replaced by the broken young

man who threatened to, and now has finally overcome him. The only

thing hopeful and beautiful I have left to think about is Katniss, and as I

fade away to some other world, I think of how I wish I could be with her

again.