Note: The characters of Greasy Sae, Haymitch, Peeta, Thom, and Katniss are not my own. They are property of the author of the Humger Games trilogy; also the fact that the meadow is now a mass grave also belongs to the author. The plot below is the only thing I claim.

The forest is still and my muscles relax as I string my bow. A squirrel leaps from a tree and my arrow sails through the air; finding its target in the dead center of a tree. My hands are shaking, and I sit in a tree to think. The leafy canopy veils me and I scrounge myself into the bark, hoping to disappear from the world. The rough wood bites into the scars on my back and tears spring into my eyes, but not from the stinging sensation. I try and sort out the last few days. My sister's dead, my mother absent and Peeta is convinced that I'm a mongrel maniac bent on his destruction. My name is Katniss Everdeen, I'm in District Twelve and all that's left of me are ashes. My thoughts tumble over one another; swirling like the eddies in a river. Great, I'm officially an unstable psychopath. I try to smooth my hair, while simultaneously trying to smooth the feelings boiling over inside me. New tears spring up as my fingers get caught in its tangled gnarl. A raving lunatic with matted hair. The exertion of hunting for a few hours sucks out my sorrow and saps all my tears. The quickly falling darkness spurs me home with a pair of rabbits over my shoulder.

As I enter the kitchen, Greasy Sae sighs with relief and quickly covers it with a clucking sound. "You look worse than those rabbits you're carrying in." I scowl and slam the carcasses on the table. She ignores me and goes back to trying to light the stove. Personal hygiene flits through my mind briefly ; but, having not ruled out suicide, cleanliness floats to the back of my mind.

My chair beckons to me and I sit down to begin cleaning the game. Greasy stops moving and I look up. "You only bought two rabbits."

"Is anyone else coming?" I ask dangerously.

"No," she continues bumping pots and pans, "just Haymitch."

Stupid drunk. I make my decision with a quick swipe of the knife. "I'll hunt tomorrow as well then. We can give Haymitch part of today's stew and then tomorrow we'll just make more. "

Greasy stirs whatever is in the pot a little quicker and I swear she smiles. She has now gotten me to go outside two days in a row. A crashing sound breaks the silence and my hand flies to a knife handle. The loud mewling noise, which follows the broken silence, makes me place the knife into Greasy's care. I wearily make my way up the stairs; placing each foot carefully, so as not to disturb the dusty memories that have settled into every corner. I enter what used to be Prim's room and find Buttercup, in an overturned basket, chewing on one of Prim's hairclips. I shoo him out from the basket making him hiss at me. While I pick up the mess he made, a flash of Prim going to school with that clip in her hair tackles me to the ground. Laying on the ground, and breathing in the dusty carpet I feel as if my life has finally reached a new pathetic low. Even a hairclip sets me off. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, I slide under the bed. Hoping to evaporate or melt into carpet, I make myself as small as possible; neither happens. I imagine myself drifting in endless space, like a dust most. Lying there, I wonder what it is that keeps me from dying. I try to pin it down, to examine it, but I get nothing. Then, like he was trying to silence my suicidal thoughts, Buttercup slowly crawls under the bed to sit on my wrists.

"Stupid cat."

He meows indignantly and stays there. He peers at me in the growing darkness. In a few minutes, the night engulfs me and I'm nothing but an ember in the dark; a shadow of the girl who was on fire. Suddenly, there are footsteps on the stairs, and I reflexively tense.

"Katniss!"

Peeta? His voice sounds strained with worry. I relish in the moment where it seems like he actually cares about me.

"Katniss?"

My answer is frozen in my throat. I stay tense long after he finds me and extend his hand underneath the bed. I wonder if he still thinks I'm a mutt. And before I know the answer, I let him help me out from my hovel. We stand there in the dark room, breathing quietly. His eyes exploring my own, "Greasy Sae was worried when you didn't come down so I came to make sure you're okay. She invited me to dinner" He adds in an apologetic tone.

I bite my tongue. So that's why she wanted more game. I try to ignore his roving eyes; they scour my body, making sure I haven't hurt myself. He grabs my hand a gently removes the hairclip I had clutched in my hand when the flashback started; it lefts its imprint on my palm. "Let's go down stairs."

All through dinner, I shovel rabbit into my mouth and glare and Greasy and Haymitch. The only one who is spared from scowl is Peeta. He tosses a piece of rabbit to Buttercup, who distrustfully sniffs it before eating it.

Snippets of the conversation buzz around my ear, and I tune into Haymitch. "They want to see if they can move down here."

I quickly snap my attention to reality. "Who does?"

The table goes quiet and everyone looks to make sure I've indeed spoken. Two words and everyone's stunned. "Who does?"

Haymitch folds his hands and looks at me. "No one in particularly sweetheart, just Johanna, you're favorite person in the world,"

There's a twinkle in his eye which makes me want to yank out his eyeball with the tines of my fork, "Why?"

There's a tangible silence in the air. "Change of scenery is all." Yeah right.

Haymitch goes back to bantering with Greasy Sae and Peeta continues to feed Buttercup, commenting every now and then. I watch Peeta closely. There isn't a hint of confusion in his eyes and even though he's as thin as I've ever seen him, when he smiles, it's like he's the boy with the bread. He catches me looking and I stare down at my bowl. My sudden shyness both baffles and angers me; I've seen too much blood and anger to even hope for anything even remotely good, besides there's no point in hoping he'll even look at me as a friend, one wrong word will send him flying for my throat.

The evening ends abruptly with Haymitch pilfering all the alcohol in the kitchen and Peeta awkwardly letting himself out. This leaves Greasy Sae and me; Sae cleaning up the table and me, in my chair, staring down at Buttercup.

"They're building an orphanage in town." Greasy says this as if it should mean something to me.

I try and feign interest. " Oh? Who's running it?"

"A few of the new comers to town."

I fiddle with a knot in my hair. "Where are we getting the orphans from?" I say this dubiously; unsure of the last time I saw a child; or anything remotely innocent.

"It's going to be a district orphanage, but they'll also be accepting from the surrounding districts as well, in case similar… needs arise."

I notice her careful choosing of words; the same avoidance Haymitch used when I asked why Johanna was coming down; but I'm sure that the two have nothing to do with one another. The silence surrounding us keeps me from pressing further and within the hour Greasy bids me good night. I collapse on the couch, steeling myself against the nightmares I know will soon come.

Strange visions visit me all night. Rue and Prim dance in an orchard. They pick flowers and give them to Cinna to make a dress out of them. The flowers burst into flames and arrange themselves into a burning man who screams in agony. I realize the man is Finnick and then the orchard goes up in flames as well, then Prim, then Rue until finally my dream is a fiery holocaust ready to engulf me as well.

I wake up to the grey morning picking its way through the curtains in the living room. My throat is raw from screaming all night and I realize that there is a red gash on my arm; a souvenir from the ghastly horrors of the night before. I wash and bandage my arm as Greasy Sae opens the kitchen door. She had managed to get a key from somewhere. Probably Haymitch, the lout! I don't mind Sae having a key to the house; but with Haymitch in charge who knows who could end up with eyes the bandage wearily.

"I had a nightmare." I answer plainly. The answer seems to satisfy her and she goes about frying an egg and toasting bread. "Peeta brought this over last night." She says this as if she's testing the waters.

I merely grunt and go back to making sure my bow's in good shape, checking to make sure I have everything I need for today's hunt. "Are there any more guests I should know about for dinner tonight?''

She slides a plate across the table; as she sits down with hers she gives me a quick once over. No doubt inspecting me for more damage or failed suicide attempts. "Just the same group as last night."

I fidget through my meal, and sigh with relief when Sae looks satisfied with the amount I've eaten.

I bound out the door and skirt the meadow that's now become a mass grave. My spine tingles as I remember what Greasy said about the orphanage. The memory of the families who lie in that grave sends tingles down my spine. My thoughts wonder to Madge and her family and I quicken my pace.

As I enter the woods, the trees seemed to have taken on the voices of the dead and each leaf whispers my name. Well, better make sure Dr. Aurelis doesn't hear about that. I hunt until late afternoon and exit the forest heavily laden with squirrels. I step unsteadily around the mass grave and swoon from the exertion of hunting all day. Some victor I am. I notice Thom emptying his cart by the grave; I try and ignore the bloated bodies sliding out of the cart.

" Do you think I could have a ride?"

"I need to stop by Annie's for a moment."

I nod and mount the cart. He gives me a smile and I can't help but give me a smile back as we rattle into town. I wait in the cart as Thom checks on Annie. She sees me as they walk outside and gives a small wave. Her belly is swollen, and she looks tired but offers me her belly to rub. I break into a smile as I feel the pressure of the baby's soft kick. Two smiles in a day.
Thom makes small talk as we leave Annie's. He tells me about the people slowly moving into town, and the even slower set up of shops in the district. There's even talk about a post office and a clock tower.

"What about the orphanage?" I cast a quick look around, trying to see where the building will go up.

He points to a large mostly finished three story building at the very edge of town." It should be finished in a week or two."

The speed of the building process baffles me. " Do we have a lot of children without homes?"

He seems to not hear my question at first, but then something forces him to reply. " We have a bit, so do the surrounding districts, but since we're the first in the area to have a orphanage we'll probably get the most of it."

I nod and the rest of the ride is oddly silent. I try to think if I said something offensive or awkward, but nothing comes to mind as we pull up to my house. With my game, and enough dirt on my boots to cover the entire house, I track into the kitchen. After cleaning my game and the kitchen floor, Sae enters and orders me upstairs to shower.

My eyes flash. "Why? Are we expecting more company?"

Sae rolls her eyes, "No, it's because you smell like a hog."

I blush not only because I notice I smell, but also because of the twinge of guilt I feel from snapping at Sae. I make peace by bounding up the stairs and into my bathroom, trying to ignore the onslaught of memories. I choose a cycle on the shower that's supposedly tough on odor and emerge two shades lighter and smelling clean, like the air after the rain.

With my arm re-bandaged I pick out a simple burgundy shirt and black pants. My hair, too damaged to go up in its typical braid, is left down. I feel surprisingly light, hungry even, as I make my way down stairs. I don't even mind when my heart skips a beat as Peeta looks into my eyes.

"What happened to your arm?"

I try to hide my arm behind my back, but then stop myself. Why should I hide from anyone? "I had a nightmare." I say this coolly; my good mood gone.

His eyebrows furrow and we don't wait for Haymitch as Sae ladles stew into our bowls. He's probably laying in a pool of vomit somewhere. Greasy and Peeta are the only ones talking, and Greasy leaves before Peeta and I are even half way done with our food. She mutters that she needs to go check on Haymitch. My eyes follow her out the door wondering why it's suddenly her job to take care of Haymitch as well.

The silence grows as Peeta and I finish our meal. I place the dishes in the sink when I feel his eyes watching me.

"What really happened to your arm?"

I reach for the soap. "I told you, I had a nightmare."

He seems to be contemplating something before he stands and takes the soap away from me. " I've got this."

"It's just my arm, I can do dishes." I sigh as he looks at me closely. "It was a nightmare Peeta. I didn't try to kill myself, nor will I." I grab for the soap, " Besides I can't really kill myself with soap." Believe me I've tried.

He gently takes the soap away from me and smiles. "How about I'll wash and you dry?"

We work in silence and I notice that he's humming the Hanging Tree Song. It gives me the chills so I finish drying quickly and within a few minutes I motion towards the door. "I guess it's good night. Thanks for the help." I mumble the last part with what I hope to be the tone of someone who isn't slowly going off the edge. He instead walks up the stairs, in the complete opposite direction of the door. It takes me a minute to register what happened and another to follow him up the stairs. I find him sitting on my bed removing his shoes. Despite my refusal to enter this floor of the house, the room smells clean and breezy, something I had failed to notice when I showered earlier. Sae must have been up here.

"What are you doing?" I could kill myself for the anxious tremble in my voice.

He motions towards my arm with a grin. "Trying to keep you from tearing off the small bits of unscarred flesh you have left."

I could kill him for smiling. "That's not necessary." With that I march into the bathroom and slam the door. I stay in there until I hear him disappear down the stairs. With relief, I tiptoe out of the bathroom and try to find a clean set of pajamas, all the while waiting to hear the kitchen door shut and signal Peeta's exit. Everything, besides an old shirt, is gone. Sae decided to do laundry I see. The sheets had just settled on my skin when my bedroom door opens and Peeta re-enters with two glasses of milk. "I thought it might help you sleep."

I try to look angry, scowl or even add a dark note to my "thank you." Instead, I gulp down the milk and after placing the glass on the nightstand turn and face the wall. I hear the click when he turns off the light and the rustle of the sheets as he climbs into bed next to me. He wraps an arm around me and that's when I notice. "When did you take off your shirt?''

He laughs at the surprise in my voice, his breath tickling my ear. "When you weren't looking.'' I hear the smile in his voice.

I scowl so fiercely I'm positive he can feel it ripple through me. As I grind myself into him and enjoy the warmth of his arms, His hand brushes my leg." When did you start sleeping in just a shirt?"

"Sae took everything home to wash it." I answer quickly. "I would have done it myself but-"

"I get it." He says quietly, and we both drift off to sleep.

My own screams wrench me from my nightmare. The image of Prim's dead body burns in my eyes as I try and fight Snow, whom I'm positive is in the room. My throat rasps and blood fills my mouth as scream after scream pour out. A powerful arm wraps itself around my waist and I hear Peeta calling my name.

"Peeta run! It's Snow. It's Snow." I keep muttering the last part until my fears extinguish and I'm left whimpering in the ashes of my dream.

"Shh, I'm here. I'm here." His eyes glint, clear and focused, in the moonlight; and the reassurance that the boy with the bread is finally back, even if it's for just a little while, fills me with peace.

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