Hi everyone! This is my new story titled Broken Wings. It is about Katniss struggling with depression after winning the games only to be made worse when she is forced into a relationship with the president's son, Peeta. But is he really following in his father's footsteps to become the next dictator of Panem? Or is he something completely different than her suspicions? I have seen a few Peeta Snow fics around on the site and I would really like to have a go at giving my perspective on this plot twist.

Please reveiw and let me know if i've started out okay and would like me to continue with this story.

Thanks so much! :)

madeleineroza xx

The sound was deafening. The roar of the crowd filled my ears as each capital citizen lucky enough to be part of Ceasar Flickerman's studio audience demands that their voice be the loudest to declare their love and adoration for the newest victor of the annual Hunger Games. I bite my lip nervously as I wait in dread of when I have to walk out on that god awful stage to declare to all of Panem how overjoyed I am that the world just lost another 23 young lives, all in the name of entertainment. How can I sit there and act thrilled as I am forced to painfully relive the worst two weeks of my life? Sit there and watch the exact moments when the light faded from each tribute's eyes. The worst part is some lives were selfishly cut short by my own hand. No one except for previous victors will understand the true cost of ending another's life; even in the case of self-defence. The person that you murder never truly leaves you. You are forever more haunted by the fact that you prevented someone from growing old, or watching their children grow up or even seeing the smiling face of their lover as they recite their wedding vows. No, killing someone doesn't just damage you; it contorts and twists everything that makes you who you are.

I stand backstage, nervously fidgeting with the black bow tied around the delicate crocheted cream coloured lace pattern of my dress that flows so effortlessly around my body down to just above my knees created by the expert hands of my stylist Cinna who manages to make a 16 year old girl who violently murdered kids to look innocent, fighting the urge to bite my nails, listening to the crowd chant my name as Ceasar expertly warms them up with a few opening jokes. I am shell of the girl that volunteered to save her sister; not only do I feel hollow inside but I don't even look the same. Every imperfection, every scar that made up who I am has been permanently wiped clean from my body, leaving a very polished version of myself. I am now nothing but a capital mutt; or as I am more commonly referred to as "The Girl on Fire".

I am vaguely aware of my prep team being introduced, I can just imagine them bouncing around the stage trying to bow, wave and blow kisses all at the same time as if not to waste one second of their treasured moment in the spotlight. Then I hear Cinna being introduced, I imagine him taking a polite bow and moving to his seat near my prep team. Next I hear my escort Effie Trinket who I will be surprised if she makes it through the night without bursting into tears because she would be just so overwhelmed that she finally has produced a victor. Another thing that will surprise me will be if my mentor, Haymitch manages to keep himself upright. All those days keeping himself sober trying to help me stay alive during my games would have taken it's tole on him. I wonder if that's what I will end up like. Wasting away my days drinking myself into stupidity to try and keep the memories of the games coming back to haunt me. The capital would find that hilarious, two victors from district 12 both falling off the stage at each year's reaping.

I am shaken out of my thoughts when a member of the backstage crew taps me on the arm giving me my cue just as I hear Ceasar roar my name sending the crowd into an absolute frenzy. I try to move but my feet seem to be rooted to the floor. My mind fills with dread. What if I can't do this? What if I break down in front of everyone? I force myself to remember the advice Haymitch gave me a few hours ago "This will be hard sweetheart, trust me. They don't really make it easy on ya, so just put on a big smile and tell them you are excited to go home and see your family again, hopefully it will be over before you know it. There's nothing else you can really do" He will never win any awards for encouraging and sugar coated pep talks that's for sure but he's brutally honest, and that's just what I need right now, someone to tell me the truth and in no way change it to soften the blow.

With a new found will I grit my teeth and force my feet to move to carry me out into the blinding lights of the stage with every single eye and camera in the room trained on me. I plaster the biggest fake smile onto my face that I can manage and walk straight to Ceasar with determination to get through this thing as quickly as possible, pausing only to shake his hand and to wave to the ecstatic crowd. I take my seat in the plush chair, and exchange a light hearted laugh with Ceasar as we wait for the audience to quieten down. After a few minutes, he finally manages to get a word in between the screams of delight from the audience and starts the interview. "Well Miss Katniss Everdeen let me start off by saying how glad I am to see your face again here alive and well" my stomach clenches and I force out an over enthusiastic laugh and reply " Me too Ceasar I'm very glad to be here" And so it begins. It's just like it's happening all over again. The reaping, the chariot ride, the interview, the games, every single moment that is considered a "highlight" is replayed on massive screens surrounding me on every side as though they were the pack of mutts I encountered on the last night of the games closing in on me ready to attack. The faces that stand out the most are Cato, Glimmer and Marvel. Each of their deaths is played fully not just the highlights for the simple reason is that I'm present during their deaths, because I killed them. I forget how to keep my facial expressions happy and enthusiastic because now the best I can manage is emotionless which I consider that really to be an achievement when I am concentrating so hard on keeping the contents of my stomach in and not all over the sparkling midnight blue sequined suit Cesar is wearing tonight. My undoing comes when Rue's death is replayed, little Rue, barely getting to experience what life has to offer before it's brutally cut short by a spear. I take note that they have conveniently edited out the part where I sing her to sleep and lay flowers around her motionless body, showing her and her family the respect by not letting her death go unnoticed. I cannot even put into words how many different emotions this stirs up inside of me. All I want to do is scream to the world how unfair it is but all that would do is get myself and my family killed. So I try to hold everything in by gritting my teeth and digging my perfectly manicured nails into my chair, but there is absolutely nothing I can do about the few tears that escape my eyes. I furiously wipe them away as soon as they fall in the hope that no one saw. At that point I give up watching and trying to smile so I simply stare at my hands in the hope that it will be over soon. Finally I hear the thundering applause which means the recap of my games are finally over. I lift my head and flash the audience a small smile hoping it doesn't turn out to be a grimace.

"So miss Everdeen I believe you have quite the future ahead of you. What with all the wealth and fame, you must be so excited!" Ceasar exclaims flashing me a dazzling smile, well some people may find It dazzling, I just find it a rather an odd combination with the pearly white teeth and the midnight blue hair with eyebrows to match. "Hmm the wealth or the fame doesn't really excite me, the thing I'm most excited about is going home and seeing my family again, as well as the extra food for the people of my district" By capital standards my answer is fairly boring so I guess that's why Ceasar feels the need to spice the interview up with this next question "Well then what about the boys?" He casts a not-so-subtle wink in the audience's direction which earns him a chorus of laughter from them. Without missing a beat I reply "What about them?" Apparently the capital audience finds this hilarious even giving Ceasar a bit of a chuckle "My dear girl it is no secret that you are among the affections of many well off suitors in Panem just dying for a chance to win the heart of the girl on fire" This renders me speechless. A deep blush settles across my cheeks as I desperately try to think of some witty answer that will get me out of this mess. I refuse to believe that I will end up like some victors before me who have pranced themselves around the capital, flaunting their most recent love interest on their arm like a fashion accessory, obviously fallen prey to the temptations of the luxury the capital offers its popular victors. The name Finnick Odair comes to mind when I think of this. I have heard endless stories and gossip mostly from my prep team that's he's sporting some ridiculously wealthy capital woman every other week and unfortunately the conversation that follows this is each member of my prep team placing their argument as to why they should be the next lucky woman (or man in Flavius's case) to be on Finnick's arm . I'm repulsed to even think anyone would ever consider me moving to the capital to court wealthy men. What I think to be the most lame response comes tumbling out my mouth before I can think it through "My mother would never allow it I'm far too young to have a boyfriend" embarrassed I look at my hands the previous blush reforming on my already rosy cheeks from the make-up Venia had applied earlier. My lack of confidence in my answer proves unnecessary when it achieves my original goal of seeming witty and puts the capital crowd in hysterics. I don't understand why though I didn't think it was funny at all as it was entirely the truth. Soon enough Ceasar wraps up the interview but first making me promise to come see him for a chat when I'm back in the Capital for the victory tour, I agree good heatedly, like I have a choice.

I let out a breath I didn't even realise I was holding as soon as I step backstage and crew members immediately start buzzing around me detaching hidden tiny microphones I forgot were even there. I hear the clicking of the heels just before I hear the shrill scream of my name. "Oh Katniss darling you were just wonderful! " Says Effie gliding towards me in a bright golden wig so big I wonder how she manages to keep up right while balancing in those gigantic heels she always feels the need to wear. I don't even get a chance to respond when she carries on pulling me along with her at her quick pace "Now while this is all very exciting we mustn't forget we have a schedule to keep up with, your crowning is due to start in 20 minutes so we'll hop right into the car to drive over to the president's mansion and then we can do your make-up retouches and…" at this point I give up listening and just nod and add "of course" whenever she pauses to take a breath.

Soon enough I'm ushered hastily into a car with Haymitch. As soon as the door shuts I'm expecting to be met with the familiar scowl I have grown accustomed to seeing on his face whenever I'm around. That's why I'm so caught off guard when I'm met with a look that I can only describe as sympathetic, and I hate it, but I am just too mentally exhausted to get angry at him for it. To be fair he probably enjoyed that recap just about as much as I did. When he doesn't say anything I look up catching his gaze "You weren't kidding when you said it wouldn't be easy" I say barely above a whisper. As I take a closer look at him I can see the dark shadows under his eyes that no amount of make-up can hide due to endless nights drinking his nightmares away. He sighs softly "No, really it was an understatement, though I admit you handled it better than I did. All I did was sit there giving yes or no answers when absolutely necessary "he replies gruffly pulling out a flask from his jacket pocket and takes a swig. I give him a half-hearted sad smile knowing that it is nowhere near close to reaching my eyes so instead I slump back into my seat and turn my gaze out the window watching absentmindedly as a city of brightly coloured steel and glass rushes past me. All too soon we are pulling up at the president's mansion and Effie is practically dragging me out the car and into the clutches of my prep team to touch up the make-up. I don't really see the point seeing as they only applied it only an hour ago and I don't look any different but I don't protest, knowing I don't really have a choice in the matter anyway. How they can apply make-up and fix my hair while I'm walking I have no idea but they somehow manage to do it perfectly without mistake and finish just in time for me to reach the doors leading out onto to the balcony. I can already hear the crowd cheering for the sight they are about to witness. I barely notice Haymitch stepping beside me until he leans close to my ear and breathes out "This is the worst part, just keep your head held high and look that bastard right in the eye" I swallow and nod my head slightly showing him I understand. I know exactly what's coming. I will have to come face to face with the man that is the cause of the pain and suffering in the districts, my home. He is the reason why I and so many others have to continuously fight to keep their family from starving, why so many men and women work endless hours in the depths of the earth to barely make enough money to feed their family and worst of all, he is why Prim's name was pulled out of the reaping bowl, why I am here right now taking her place, why 23 kids die each year for the capitol's entertainment. I now know that I will never really win these games despite the crown that will be placed on my head tonight, that the only ever real winner of these games will only ever be one person; President Snow.

Soon enough I hear the words that motivate me to hold my head high in determination with a cold as steel expression firmly placed on my face hoping I look somewhat fierce living up to my name, The Girl on Fire. "It is with a great deal of pleasure I introduce the victor of the 74th annual Hunger Games, Miss Katniss Everdeen" I will not give him the satisfaction of seeing me being scared of him. I will show him that I will not be just a pawn in his games, I promised Prim I will do everything I can to come out of these games and I will do everything in my power to not break that promise. The grand doors to the balcony swing open to reveal almost the whole population of Panem gathered in the square in front of the president's mansion. I then catch sight of the man himself, his snake like eyes boring into mine as if he could hear my thoughts. Honestly I wouldn't be surprised with the technology I have discovered in the capitol this past couple of weeks. Instantly I'm hit with the absolute putrid stench of the strange combination of roses and blood dominating my senses. I don't let it break me and keep striding forward with as much grace as I can manage in 6 inch heels, to my place in front of the president as he reaches out to shake my hand. He grasps my hand with both of his and smirked, from my point of view it looked more like his face was contorting in some unnatural way because his skin is stretched so tight over his face from capital surgeries designed to make him look more "appealing" if you ask me I don't know how they even thought there was any way possible to make this monster look "appealing".

He looks me in the eye and I force myself not to look down and give him the satisfaction of seeing me scared as he says "A pleasure to finally meet you Miss Everdeen" I almost scoff at his obviously fake words and simply politely say "Thank you sir" Without further small talk he launches into his annual speech about how The Hunger Games are necessary to teach the districts a lesson. I zone out soon enough and start glancing around the balcony and catch Haymitch's eye standing a few paces to my left, he gives me a sad smile and resumes staring at his shoes. I almost take his lead and do the same thing until something catches my eye to my right. Glinting in the bright lights is a mockingjay pin identical to my own, attached to the suit of a young man who looks to be around my age. My mouth almost falls open as I catch sight of it in plain sight pinned to his chest in front of the president. I would expect anyone associated with the president to be disgusted with my actions in the arena when I held the Capitol responsible for Rue's death when I sang her to sleep and covered her final resting place in flowers. But obviously not this boy and I just can't help but wonder why. He can't be more than 17 years old, he has dishevelled curly blonde hair perfectly framing his, with the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen with specs of gold splattered around the iris. Though he is smiling I can see it does not quite reach his eyes giving them an empty hollow look as he glances across the crowd waving to various cheering capitol citizens. It's as if he can feel my stare when he turns his head to meet my gaze. I quickly look down slightly embarrassed that I was caught staring, and even more embarrassed that I was staring in the first place, and next what I thought not to be possible happens. A small blush has settled itself across my cheeks when I hear him quietly chuckle to himself at my expense. Thankfully President Snow wraps up his speech and is making the final preparations to crown me victor. He steps forward and ushers the boy forward who is holding something that I completely missed before as I was too focused on his face, a scarlet red pillow with a golden crown lying on top. My crown, I can't help but imagining the crown sitting on top of a pile of the 23 tributes bodies covered in blood. I am the cause of some of the violence and bloodshed for my own selfish reasons, to simply survive and now I am being rewarded for my actions. I quickly bring myself back to present when I wonder why this boy is carrying the crown, it is always the president's son that presents it. I realise with a jolt that the boy standing in front of me with the mockingjay pin on his chest and sad empty eyes is Peeta Snow, the President's son. I almost feel disgusted with myself for even looking at him when I remember he was wearing my pin. This makes me even more curious. Why is the president's only son wearing my pin? I'm shaken out of my thoughts when President Snow steps close to me with the crown in his hands, I struggle to keep the contents in my stomach as President Snow reaches for the crown and places it upon my head and turns to the crowd announcing "People of Panem may I present to you Katniss Everdeen of district 12, victor of the 74th Hunger Games."