Scream. Splash. Scream. Splash. Scream. Splash. Silence.

These are the sounds I wake too. I'm assuming its Finnick, and probably Johanna, going for a morning swim.. If only they were making less noise and hadn't disturbed me, my dream was surreal. Katniss and I, walking down a beach at sunset, hand in hand. I shouldn't have found it that amazing, we've walked along the beach we're sleeping on now with our fingers linked. But I knew that in my dream, we were not in an arena. The sun in my dream was real, it was not some kind of projection created by the Capitol attempting to be the actual thing. That was the only alteration between the beach in my dream and the beach we are laying on, but it made all the difference.

It was freedom.

Scream. Splash. Scream. Splash. "NOOOOOO PLEASE."

They're getting louder, its defiantly Johanna out in the water with Finnick. I couldn't recognise her scream, but I can tell by the voice. She's begging for him to stop doing something now, he must be chasing her, or pushing her head under the water. Something like that. Even half asleep I pick up on the fact that Johanna sounds like she's crying. I didn't think that anything could make that woman cry, no, it was impossible… I come to the conclusion she's just toying with Finnick. I had seen her in the games she had won, acting as weak and scared had led to her victory, the gift of fake crying must still be with her. I didn't really see why she was pretending to cry now though, her strength was no longer a secret; Finnick would know that the tears were not genuine.

I wish she'd stop, hearing someone crying, fake tears or otherwise, is one of the worst sounds on this planet, especially if coming from Katniss. But despite the dreaded noise, I would do anything to freeze this moment, so that I'd never have to cut off Johanna's very believable weeping. Never have to end the both of them, her and Finnick. But it's needed if I am going to get Katniss out of here, for that to work we all need to die. Including me. The thought of dying does not bother me, not when the alternative is a life without Katniss, they will not allow us both out of the games this time. I know Katniss is trying to make sure that I'm going to be the one who leaves, but she should know by now, that if she was ever to die; I would end up following soon after.

I steer away from the thoughts of killing the innocent; it's not something I wish to rise too. But I have woken to worse, much worse; the sound of tracker jackers buzzing all around me when Katniss dropped them on us, the realisation that Katniss had gone to get the medicine to heal my blood poisoning and that she may not come back, Katniss screaming in her sleep, Katniss getting us all to move and escape the fog that was advancing on us.. I notice that each thought revolves around Katniss, it always does. I move onto the best things I have woken too, but there is no list this time, only her. Waking up to her never fails to take my breath away, I used to think that emerging from my sleep whilst watching the sun come up was beautiful, but sunrise is nothing compared to Katniss Everdeen. Every morning I expect to wake up and discover that seeing her face in front of me, lips only inches away from my own, is just a dream, I could never have spent the night sleeping next to Katniss, that only happens in my fantasies. Yet every morning since we arrived in here, I've opened my eyes to her.

I always wake before her, I have start each day seeing her in peace, the only time there isn't a hint of worry or pain etched on her face is when she is sleeping. And the image is priceless. When she's resting, not one person would know that this girl has been put through a lifetime of suffering, unless she's having a nightmare. But I protect her from them. I will always be the barrier against the horrid images that try to invade her mind, images I know all too well. And as I protect her from the scenes she returns to in her slumber, she protects me from the scenes I never wish to face - simply by being there, for my nightmares are the exact opposite.

I turn my head and open my eyes, at first it's as if i am looking through a frosted window, but as my vision comes into focus the sight I had expected to see, the sight I yearn to see, is not there. Instead of the familiar features of Katniss there is a white tile wall. Previously lost in the thought I hadn't noticed my surroundings. It is a very rare occurrence, Katniss not being my main priority, but right now, my full attention is on the question; where am I? How could I have gone from lying on a beach in an arena to a bed?

I attempt to get up only to find that I can't even move into a sitting position, I'm restrained. Legs, ankles, wrists, chest, the only part of me not strapped down is my head. I face the other way and I feel the panic rise into my throat, beside my bed, laid out on a metal trolley, is at least 10 syringes filled with some sort of greenish liquid… I don't recognize it but I pray that I won't have to find out what it does, its highly unlikely that it will be anything good. Similar to being in the arena, I have no idea what is waiting for me, the thought of the unknown setting me even more on edge. And as my terror heightens, I feel like I'm going to fall off of that edge and lose it completely. Then, unexpectedly, my memories return out of nowhere. My last moment in the arena had not been settling down for the night on the beach, I remember now. I had been running desperately through the jungle, screaming at the top of my lungs in a frantic search for Katniss, Brutus killed Chaff, I killed Brutus. Katniss was then calling for me as I had been calling for her, there was then a huge explosion and I fell to the ground in fear. That's the last thing I can recall, the rest is blackness…

Katniss.

My panic now surges into complete hysteria, is Katniss in the same situation as me? Is she in a worse situation? It then dawns on me that the screaming and splashing was obviously not Johanna just messing around with Finnick. Somehow, Johanna really has been reduced to tears. I assume that she was being tortured by the Capitol; it had become clear to me that that is the only place we could be. All I can do is hope that it is only Johanna and I here, that Katniss has not been captured. Or even worse, killed. The idea has made its way in my head, and now that's found a way in, I cannot get it to leave. It overwhelms me. So much so that I begin shaking and sobbing, I need to know that Katniss is not here, that she is alive. I should have found Katniss in those last moments, she was calling for me, she needed me. I should have separated from the group when she had suggested it. I should have kept her safe; I had promised myself to always keep her safe... I am an oath breaker, and my failure consumes me. I'm screaming, thrashing. I continue to do so even though it's pointless, there is no escaping from the bed which acts as my prison.

"KATNISS- KATNISS PLEASE, PLEASE BE SAFE, KATNISS PLEASE!"

The plea explodes from deep within me before I can stop it, I can barely recognize my own voice or make out the words that I cried, my sobs had distorted them too much. I feel so hopeless, certain that Snow has had the girl I love more than anything in this universe sent for torture or execution. I've had the thought that Katniss could be dead before, but it's never been this strong or empowering. I've never been this certain that it's true, that she has been taken from me; there has always been a spark of hope, a corner of my mind telling me that she could be fine. But now, all I feel is complete and utter fear.

"Please, please, please, Katniss, Katniss, please, please..."

I'm unsure how long I continue to howl and writhe, but when someone eventually opens the door and comes in the room I can feel the warmth of blood on my wrists and ankles from where the restraints have rubbed away at my skin. I'm still screaming as I feel the prick of a needle in left arm, the thought of having lost Katniss forever agonizing and tormenting me. There is then a feeling that I've only had once before, but it is one I will never forget. The feeling of tracker jacker venom spreading throughout my body, it feels like fire running through my veins, all stemming from the place of the injection. I'm almost sick at the thought of having to face the effects of the venom again; it is an experience I had never wished to relive. It's clearly my time for torture... there is no doubt the Capitol have cameras and microphones set up in here, they would have heard my cries, it should be obvious that my own mind is perfectly capable of torturing me without the added help of the venom.

Then the voice I have been longing to hear is ringing in my ears, Katniss. I let out a sigh of relief, she is alive. My shaking ceases and I lift up my head; I need to see her to be truly reassured. But of course, it was too good to be true, she's not here, I'm just looking at a TV screen. A clip of her from the first games we were in is being played on a loop. The announcement that there can be two victors and then Katniss saying my name. I'm unsure why I'm being showed this, Johanna got tortured and I get rewarded? Hearing Katniss say my name over and over is something I could listen to for eternity. It sounds…

Ominous. Sinister. Menacing. Threatening. Perilous.

A second ago it had been a vast contrast, my name had rolled off her tongue in such a way that anyone who had heard it would've known that she had wanted to save me, that she cared about me. But it's abruptly changed. She's now saying my name in a way that makes me think she had wanted to find me and kill me. But that's not true; she did save me and care for me back in the first arena. That was what she had aimed to do since that announcement... Wasn't it? Had she originally thought of saving or killing me? Had she been happy to share the title of 'District 12 victor' or had she wanted it for herself? But I had offered that to her, I had told her to kill me when they withdrew the two victor rule, and then she had offered the berries in response. We were to die together... or had she planned on spitting them out even before they told us to. Had she just not wanted to kill me herself, was letting me do it for her an attempt to ease her guilt? Or had it been her way of apologizing for killing me, by letting me think I was dying with her, by letting me think that I was dying with her loving me... Was that her kind of idea of an act of kindness? Was the suicide plan all an act?... Just like the love she showed towards me in that arena was. But that was then; she could be in love with me now, couldn't she? My mind's torn... And then without warning, my screaming about Katniss starts up again. But this time, it is not in fear of losing her, but in fear of finding her. And I have no idea why.