Introduction

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my own version of Suzanne Collins's Mockingjay. The whole idea of this book is to watch the same events that occurred in the book the Hunger Games, but tell it from the point of view of another character in the book.

The character that I have decided to share from the point of view is from the baker's son, Peeta Mellark. This book dives into the inner most of Peeta's being. The way that sometimes our own memories lie to us, tell us things that we are unsure of. This is the story of how Peeta Mellark and his fight to stay alive physically. His fight to stay alive psychologically is also shown and how the love of his life helped him come back from the brink of darkness.

The whole series is about six books all written from the point of view from Peeta Mellark. It follows the three Suzanne Collins books and three after that takes into account what I believe is missing information from the ending of book three.

Thank you and now without further delay.

PART I

"Fate and Love"

Chapter One

The voices of the life that I once knew echo through my mind. "If you cannot understand the things that are before you, focus on the details."

This is something that I remember her telling me. It was right after the Hunger Games. I needed to get away, away from everyone and everything. The lies and manipulations were eating me from the inside. The camera crew had just left the day before, and everyone was starting to get back to the normal day to day life at District Twelve. It was the morning of a typical day, and I had decided to get up before anyone and slip away. I had even beaten the sun to wake up.

I was walking with no purpose or destination in mind. The birds were silent and still sleeping. No one was up, not even my father. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't think, I couldn't process what was going on. I didn't understand. It wasn't until I see meadow that I found that I was at the end of the road. For some odd reason I always end up at the same place.

The one person that I do not want to see was the one person I couldn't wait to see before. I sat down at the base of the tree. The whole day, no one passed by the meadow, with the exception of some little children playing. What I wouldn't get to be that age again, not a care in the world. The reaping is something that they don't even have to worry about. No need to protect yourself, or your heart.

It was early evening when she found me there just sitting by the tree in the meadow.

"There he is, the Victor of District Twelve," Delly say. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

No one had known what I had just learned a couple of days ago. We were riding back on the train from the Capitol when we had stopped to refuel. It was still in the spring time when I had found out that the whole romance in the Games was a lie. I was betrayed by both Katniss and Haymitch our mentor, the thing that was eating at me at the moment.

"Oh hey, Delly," I say.

"Oh hey, Delly?" She repeats. "That isn't the kind of excitement that I saw on the television a couple of hours ago. You had just won the Games, and you have finally have the girl of your dreams and all you can say is 'oh hey Delly?'"

I want to just tell her everything. That I was used as a pawn in a game, to survive, that I was lost in a sea of doubt, but I couldn't. I couldn't risk her safety or her families. It would be nice to have someone to confide in. The only one I had is the one that I feel I cannot talk to. Today it seems I had to put on the façade again, pretend that I was happy.

"Oh, it is nothing Delly. I am sorry; just have a lot on my mind." I say. "With all that it means now to be a Victor."

"You mean the fame and fortune?" she says tilting her nose upward. "Don't think you would ever have to worry about letting it go to your head, Peeta. You are already a snob from the merchant families."

She laughs, and nudges me.

I look at her and laugh.

"Thanks, I needed that." I tell her. "Delly, can I ask you something?

"Of course you can," she says sitting down next to me. We both begin to throw rocks at the fence to see if we can make it to the forest.

"Have you ever had a time where you didn't understand someone, or something?" I ask.

"Well it happens a lot in school, Peeta." She says jokingly. "But I know that isn't what you mean. You mean people, misunderstandings?"

"Something like that," I say.

"Well what happens with me, is that I tend not to look at the big picture and focus on the details." She says.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"I mean that if I misunderstand something, or what someone says, I look at the details of what was said and how it was said and where and why." She says trailing off. "Well something like that, and then what I don't understand, at least I feel certain about something smaller. You get me?"

"Yeah, I get you." I say standing. "So, a snob am I?"

"Well just a little," she says making the pinch size and then opening it to a foot.

Focus on the details and not on what you don't understand. It is something that I have been repeating in my head, just to remember to focus on the smaller things, the details, so that the bigger picture doesn't seem out of focus.

Details, what are the details that I see and feel. Well I feel the tight restraints on my wrist. The cold white walls have no doors, nothing really, a long white corridor.

The Capitol soldiers had just gotten me off the hovercraft after the arena exploded. They said some rebels had sabotaged the force field, but I know that the other Victors had a secret plan to get us all out of the arena. That is another thing I have to place in the "don't understand" column.

Seems like there are a lot of things in that column and very few on the things I do understand.

The lights from the walkway come from the bottom and tops of the smooth white walls. It is a glow that tells me two things. The doors are hidden, and it is about practicality and not flashiness of the people of the Capitol. Here it is about getting something done and not caring about how it looks. At the end I see a door begin to open from the top down. It makes no sound, and I see no cameras. How did they know to open the door, is it control by motion sensors?

There I see it. In the center of the room is a simple white chair, with a tray next to it. The soldiers lose the restraints and place me in the chair. I see the straps come up and hold me into place. "Where are they?" I ask.

No one says anything; they just continue to work as I do not exist.

"Where are they?" I demand.

With one swift move, one of the soldiers swings his stun stick butt first into my jaw. The pain is almost instant; I see the white flash of stars in my field of vision. I can feel the warm liquid begin to fill my mouth. I turn my face, and spit right into his face. Saliva and blood mixed cover the helmet of the soldier.

"Take off your helmet, so I can see who it is that I am going to kill next." I say.

Guess Johanna is rubbing off on me. He wipes off the blood from his visor and both of the soldiers walk away. I see the door begin to close from bottom to top. As soon as it makes it up to the ceiling the seam of the door disappears. If I didn't know a door was there, I would never know where it is. The room is a perfect circle. White walls, white ceiling, and white floors, the lighting of the room come from the walls, just like the corridor.

There is nothing ornate on the walls or anything that I can notice. It is all just seamless, almost surgical. That is when I realize that next to me is a tray. A surgical tray. Detention and extraction was the terms the soldiers used in the arena when told where to take us. What sort of extraction would they use?

Then if on cue, the lights go off. Everything in the room turns dark as night. If my hands were free I don't think I would be able to see it in front of my face. There is no hum of the air system, or none that the normal people can hear. There is no sound coming from the outside, muffle sounds of people walking by or people talking, nothing. It is a stillness that I have never felt.

For a while my eyes stay open trying to see if they would finally get use to the darkness and be able to see some sort of details of the room. After a while I realize that it is no good, my eyes cannot see the walls, so I have no depth perception, and I cannot see the ceiling, so I have no height perception. The only thing that keeps me grounded is the feeling of the chair on my back. I can feel the restraints on my legs and arms, and one on my waist and chest; it is of a very strong material. I try to expand my chest to loosen the binds, but it is too tight.

What are they trying to accomplish by the dark room, I start to think. I start to look around and not knowing where I am looking, I can feel my heart begin to quicken. My breathing shallows and the uneasy feeling begins to become apparent. The silence creeps in. The darkness brings to mind the nightmares. Probably if I just fall asleep and dream this can all just go away. I close my eyes and force my mind to think of her. Nothing. All I see in my mind is darkness. I tell my mind, the beach, the meadow, the bakery, the training center roof, the garden, anything, and every time nothing, just darkness. I don't know if my eyes are open or closed. There is no peace of escape, just the anxiousness of reality. Think, Peeta, think. Think of a memory that you can remember. If I could just think of home, then I can feel safe again. How did it go, how did that song go?

Down in the valley, roses bloom all day. The wind…through…the…umm.

Is that how it went? My mind races to find the answer, to have some sort of confirmation. It is odd but my mind feels fuzzy. Probably I just need to relax. I take a couple of deep breaths. The restriction on the chest doesn't give me much wiggle room to breathe. In fact if I wasn't imagining things I could have shorn it has gotten tighter.

I sit there. Time doesn't quicken, it slows to a standstill, and it is eternally slow, with no end or beginning.

What time is it? It was dark when we landed, is it morning already? My body is growing numb from sitting in one spot and my mind is restless and tired. How many hours have gone by? Without having a point of reference then how can you know where you are, what time it is, or even what day it is? You can't know time, almost like you don't exist. I hear something, and turn my head to the source of the sound. I try to focus my eyes in the darkness but find that I see nothing, nothing at all. Is this what it feels like? I wonder to myself. Madness is a fine line and once you are over to it, you don't even realize it.

The lights flood on like a shock to the system. In the room stand five doctors in white clothes. When did they come into the room? The door didn't open or if not I would have seen the light from the corridor. I didn't hear them walk in, when did they come in, or did they even leave. Am I imagining it, or am I dreaming this? It is hard to pin point what is real, and what is not.

"Who are you?" I ask them. "Where am I?"

"Peeta," one responds. "My name is Dr. Erik Vassar." I look at him. It seems that he is the head doctor out of the other four. The other just walks around touching walls and having them open to reveal equipment.

"To answer your second question," he continues. "You are in a detention center."

He walks over to me and picks up a syringe from the tray. It was empty the last time. Things are appearing and disappearing before my eyes. Are my senses off, was that blast that blinded me from the arena, did it alter something. It seems like I cannot focus, and things are all fuzzy.

"You don't need that. I feel fine." I say.

"This?" He says lifting the syringe. "This is just to calm you."

"No, no, no, I am calm." I say. He walks over and I feel the sharp needle pierce my neck. The cold liquid is then pushed into my body.

He turns and looks to the other Doctors. "Doctors, would you please release the restraints, I don't think that it would be necessary." He turns and looks at me, "Do you?"

I nod no.

"Release the restraints."

One goes to a computer screen and begins to key in something. I feel the restraints loosen and finally retract. The tightness over my chest slowly dissipates. I stand up slowly.

"Are you hungry?" He asks.

"Not really," I say. Honestly I am starving. The seafood that I had in the arena has been long and in between.

"Well if you are interested, dinner is being served on the first door to the left of the corridor." He points and a door suddenly materializes and he walks through the open corridor. I quickly assess the situation. Should I go? Should I try and make a run for it? I doubt this is the same corridor as the original one. If I do make it to the hovercraft, how would I fly it?

If I go and have dinner, at least I can try to get something from him. He is trying to establish a connection, so that I lower my guard. If I go, I have to maintain my vigilance. I start to walk, and see that none of the other four doctors even pay attention to me. They continue on their work on computer screens. I walk through the door and see to my left a doorway. It isn't the same white corridor that I went originally walked through. This one had blue lights and blue floor. It is a soft sky blue, and the lights pulse at a certain intervals.

I stop at the doorway and look in. There is a single table with a metal covering on two plates. Dr. Vassar had just gotten to the table and pulls out both chairs. "Come; join me," he says. "You must be hungry."

I come in and sit in the table. I remove the metal cover. There on my plate is three slices of meatloaf and mash potatoes.

"Someone told me that this was your favorite," he says.

"How did you know, who told you?" I ask.

He places one bite into his mouth and begins to chew.

"Hmmm," he says. "How did I know? Well I didn't know, but your family told the Capitol after the last games."

I stare at the food. It could be poisoned. That is how I would do it. Well that is how I wanted to do it in the arena, make something and poison it. I look up and see that he is staring at my hesitation.

He reaches over with his fork and takes a piece of my meatloaf and a little mash potatoes and places it in his mouth.

"See," he says. "No poison. Really Peeta, if we wanted to kill you, we would have done it the moment you were taken from the arena."

"Then why didn't you?" I ask. It is the question that has been on my mind.

"Well honestly, because her life is in danger and you are the only one that can save her." He says while placing another bite in his mouth.

I take a bite of the meatloaf and find that the meat is very moist and delicious. I try to keep my expression still so that he doesn't know that I am starving.

"What did you mean by her life is in danger?" I ask.

I see he stops eating, and place the fork on the table. He looks up and motions something with his hand. I look around to see where the camera is, as we are in the room alone.

"There will be more than enough time for your questions. But now we have to get you ready." He says. "For what?" I ask,

The door opens and I see them step into the room.