"Katniss."
I don't look up when I hear his voice. Instead, I concentrate on taking this morning's game out of my father's old hunting bag, placing everything carefully on the counter of the kitchen.
Peeta sighs, and I hear the creak of wood as he leans against the doorframe. "You have to go see him."
"No, I don't," I say sharply. I slam the canvas of berries down harder than I realize, and I feel the juice seep out from the bag. I almost swear under my breath.
We both know what he's trying to do, and we both know it won't work. Peeta's been bugging me about this for ages, trying to convince me to do the right thing. Even though he knows well enough that I'm usually the one who ends up doing wrong.
But Peeta still tries to talk me into going to District 2 to see Gale.
It's been almost a year since I've last seen him. Gale, who used to be the only reason I smiled. Gale, who was my best friend when my life fell apart.
Gale, who completely cut off all contact with me when he left for 2 after the rebellion. The only letter he ever sent me was a week after he left, saying how his job was going well and he was doing fine and he met a lovely young woman named Savannah who works to cater those that work in the mountains.
Then, it just stopped. No letters, no surprise visits, not even a single word over the phone. It was as if he didn't exist to me anymore.
Peeta, of course, reads my mind. "It's busy in 2 now. They've been rebuilding inside dozens of mountains for months now."
It's true. When we destroyed the largest mountain 2 used for their masonry, the Nut, the district's been hasty in trying to restore their precious monument.
But it's still no excuse.
"He didn't even bother to write again."
"You can't just assume he hates you because of that, Katniss."
"Do you have any other explanation?"
"My explanation won't change your mind," he says as a matter-of-factly.
I take that as a forfeit and turned back to the counter. After a moment of silence, Peeta leaves the kitchen, and the subject isn't discussed again.
Until exactly a month later.
When I open the door that morning to hunt, I'm almost shocked to see someone standing at our doorstep. Partly because it's so early in the morning, and partly because people still prefer to keep their distance from us.
This certain someone is a petite, blond girl, who looks too perfectly manicured to be from Twelve. She has fair skin, a pointed nose, and wears baggy clothes despite her slim figure.
She has tears in her eyes.
While I stand nearly frozen by the door, the girl looks at me and whispers three horrifying words.
"I'm from Two."
I don't even think before I blurt out, "Gale?"
She nods, her breath hitching as she speaks. "I didn't th-think it would c-come to this, y-you know? A-and I didn't know w-what to d-do . . ." she breaks down in wordless sobs.
Immediately, I sense Peeta at my side. He speaks gently to the girl, inviting her inside and leading her to the living room, where she sinks into a plush white couch. All while I stand rigidly, staring at the girl, wanting some sort of answer.
I kneel in front of her while Peeta lean against the couch arm.
"Savannah?" I ask her.
She nods. "I'm . . . a friend of Gale's."
"What's happened to him? Is he alright? Is something wrong?"
"He told me once that if anything ever happened to him, I weren't to tell you," she explains. I don't interrupt her, though she completely ignored my question. "But I knew you were his closest friend, and I didn't know what else t-to do!" Her eyes begin to water again.
"What's happened to him, Savannah?" I ask more sharply.
She looks up at me, her eyes cowering in despair.
"I think he's sick, Katniss," she whispers.
There's a long silence before I speak, and in that moment, a million thoughts shoot through my head. I can hear my heart pounding in my chest.
"Sick?" I say softly.
"It started around the same time he came to Twelve," she explains. "I met him the day he first arrived, and he seemed . . . strange. He hardly spoke, he hardly said a word to anyone. He was always hidden in the background, no one noticing him."
I bite my lip. That is strange behaviour for him. He was never like that at home.
She continues. "I was his friend, and I knew he liked to spend his free time in the mountains. I went to see him there one day, and found him crying. Not just the small kind of sobbing; he was screaming and howling and collapsing to the ground. He was completely out of control."
Something in my heart crumples and I lose the ability to speak, resulting at me staring at the poor girl with blank eyes.
"He quit his work in the mountains a couple weeks later and disappeared beyond the woods for days. No one could find him, and after the first three days, people stopped looking. I didn't know what happened to him; I looked in the same place where I found him crying before, but he wasn't there.
Then, after a week, he showed up. I was walking past his home when I noticed the lights were on. When I went inside, I saw him sitting in the corner of his room. He was just sitting on the floor, doing nothing. I tried to ask him questions about where he was and what he had done, but then all of a sudden he was screaming at me to get out. Pulling his hair and slamming his fists against the wall. I ran out of his house as fast as I could."
She begins to weep, covering her face with her hands. I reach out a hand and hold her wrist gently.
"It's going to be fine," I soothe. "It's okay."
She shakes her head and speaks, her voice muffled by her hands. "You don't understand, Katniss. He was going to do something before I caught him in his home."
"What do you mean?" I ask, my voice shaking with fright.
"When I came into his room," she whispers, sniffling. "He was holding a gun to his head."