My name is Peeta Mellark. I am from District 12. I am the victor of the seventy-fourth Hunger Games.
Who am I? Or more accurately, what am I?
As a sit on my bed in the Training Centre, pondering those very questions, all other details, besides my name and present status, eluded me.
In defeat, I closed my eyes, allowing the memory of my victory wash over me.
I heard Claudius Templesmith's denouncement of the rule change. It echoed loud and piercing through my mind. I clawed desperately at my ears, hoping to block out that voice, that message.
I wanted to regret my actions. But I'm hollow, unable to muster that feeling. My memory continued. Disembodied I watched.
I watched Katniss Everdeen's, the girl on fire's, expression change. I remember reaching for my knife in my belt. She raised her bow. Stringing in an arrow, she raised it in level with my head.
In that moment, I heard the echo of my mother's parting words. She's a winner, that one….. Katniss's expression began to turn ugly. I felt a strange sense of bitterness pervading my mouth. A wrenching in my gut. I was still clutching my knife.
I loved her. I can't kill someone I loved. So I cast my knife into the depth of the lake.
I had valued her life over mine. So what happened next?
Her expression changed. It fell. I could read the shame in her eyes. She, too, cast away her weapon. Slowly, she pulled out the berries. Nightlock.
Then I remembered her expression as she leveled her bow to my head. With gut-wrenching realization, I knew she did not care for me. She could kill me, just like how she could kill the other tributes.
She's a winner…..
Bitterness added to bitterness. In this world, no one cared for me. Katniss. My mother. No one.
Standing straighter, my resolve hardened. My subconscious worked without conscious thought. I touched my bleeding leg. My time was limited. I had another knife, hidden in my boot.
Slowly, I pulled out my knife. I threw myself, with all the energy I could muster, at Katniss. I watched myself slit her throat. Her cannon fired. Hovercrafts pulled me out of the arena.
Her startled expression of pain was forever branded into my mind. I have just killed Katniss Everdeen, the girl I loved. I wanted to regret. But I am hollow.
A knock on the door revealed Portia and my prep team, bringing me into harsh reality.
Who am I? What am I?
My name is Peeta Mellark. I am from District 12. I am the victor of the seventy-fourth Hunger Games.
