Rude Awakening:

"Hurry, we need to get him out of here! Alive!" Hmm, there are loud, familiar male voices yelling in my head. It's like it's an emergency, but I don't know what, I'm having a hard time thinking straight.

"I'm trying; he's bleeding!" I hope they aren't talking about me.

"Just get him into the gurney so the aircraft can lift off!" I feel myself drop onto a badly cushioned mat. That means they're talking about me. I hate blood, because it makes me sick. I black out.

Suddenly, I wake up in a white room in a place I've never seen before. I'm thankful to the voices for getting me out of the Capitol, at least. Maybe Katniss is here. If that's the case, why am I lying here? I should be finding Katniss. I need to kill her.

I see her walking towards the room. Huh, the people all dressed in gray or white must have told her I was here. I wish they hadn't though. It really needed to wait until they all leave me alone. I can't kill her with them watching. Too risky. Not that it matters. She's dead to me. Who does she think she is, anyway? She's always on TV talking about how bad the Capitol is, but they saved me from her! Obviously they didn't care for me either, or they wouldn't have treated me like they did, but she tries to kill me at every opportunity. So why should I kill her? The face of the revolution, the very reason I feel fear. She has no soul, no grace, and no hope for the future. She doesn't care for anyone or anything as long as she gets what she wants; death or destruction. That's why I need to kill her. To rid Panem of all the terror she causes in her wake, Katniss cannot exist.

She steps into the room, her eyes flickering hatred and pure evil when she sees me. She is a true reflection of the devil himself. "Peeta!" She cries with horror. I'm probably the one person she doesn't want to see. Her arms are outstretched to pull me in, surely to cut off my circulation. Strangulation is a horrible way to die, and I feared it enough in the Capitol. They made me uptight, never really expecting what to expect from the cold-hearted torturers that came into my hollow chamber. So instead of reliving the memories, I reach my own arms out and cup them tightly around her tiny, fragile neck.

The Hunger Games have left Katniss' body weak and her senses dull. It would have been easy to kill her, right then and there. But those people in grey... they're even crazier than she is herself, trying to save the pathetic girl. Everyone is screaming, myself and Katniss included. Her screams help to calm my passion for her death. She is definitely not worth saving. I feel a sharp prick in my right arm. It almost felt like someone dug their fingernail into my skin. Suddenly, I'm tired; hating Katniss is hard work. I feel so weak that I might just close my eyelids, which are becoming heavier and heavier.

The next thing I'm aware of is eyes. Everywhere. They stare me down, hoping I'll break and apologize for trying to kill Katniss. Or more accurately, that I will forget everything that the Capitol has shown me about the psychotic blood lust behind Katniss' steely grey eyes. They must be crazy too. Katniss is everywhere in my memories, and she's nuts.

She's killing people off in the arena, and eating them. Drinking their blood. As if this is all one big game to her, and she's the best and strongest player. I watch her like this in two different Hunger Games. Why did they put us in two? Oh right, they love watching Katniss end lives. Then, I'm suddenly transported into one of those memories.

"Peeta, are you here? I can't see you!" Katniss exclaimed, looking all over the jungle floor. She wouldn't be able to find me; the ground is littered with colourful plants, most of which were covering me. My face was caked in mud and leaves to hide my facial features. I was camouflaged so well that even though she was staring directly at me, she couldn't see that I was there.

As I stare upwards, I see that the thick labyrinth of the forest had been picked clean, no doubt to honour the Games. Had it been made of metal, the forest would have glistened like it was dipped in sunlight. It was too bad that the Careers I had teamed up with had failed to see the beauty in the arena. They only cared about who they would kill and when. Exactly like Katniss. The thought brought me back to our conversation.

"Yeah, too bad you can't see me," I responded, in an attempt to send her away. I slowly rolled myself over before wincing at the pain in my leg. I raised my head just enough to look at her face.

Katniss glowed. The reflections of the sun on her face made her look like she was made of bits of sunlight. That's wrong. She's made of darkness and evil, not light. Her face was stained with fresh blood, dripping down from her mouth to her chin. She must have been particularly excited about her latest kill. If you were to ask her about it though, she would deny having killed anyone at all. What a liar, didn't she know there were cameras everywhere?

"I know you want to come out, Peeta. You love me, remember?" Katniss didn't look like she was going to leave anytime soon, a look of hope clearly visible in her harsh features. Of course, I knew that if I even sat up, I would be dead in an instant. Katniss is a machine and has no mercy; she must be destroyed. I had to destroy her, because no one else would.

"Go away, I don't want you here Katniss!" My tone was harsh. She deserved it. "Just leave," I said. I didn't want to say any more, just in case she spotted me with those hateful, grey eyes. I watched as she flipped her carefully braided hair behind her back. The sun caught her braid as it moved, and I was partially blinded for a moment. That was bizarre, because usually dark hair wouldn't have that intense effect. Almost instantaneously she turned on her heels and ran away as fast as her legs would carry her, which seemed to be the speed of light. I heard the faint rustle of a tree moving, and seeing as there was no wind, I had to assume that Katniss would be travelling up there from then on. It was about time she left.

The plants still reflected the light of the sun, so I guessed that the sun must not have set just yet. Then all of a sudden, the light being reflected on the emerald green foliage disappeared, and the jungle looked more realistic. But I didn't linger on that particular detail; the sun can play strange tricks on your eyes. Wait a minute, how did Katniss leave so quickly? The speed she must have gone at was far beyond normal. Too fast. Too fast for a human, anyway. My hand flew to my mouth to hide my shocked expression. Katniss was a mutt.

I wake up with a start, back in the painfully white room. My ankles and wrists are tied to the chair, my waist belted down. There is a new pain in my hip bones from jumping awake, but I ignore it. I hate this room too much to even think about that. They should really add some visual interest in here; it was like sitting in a blank canvas while being restrained from filling it with colour and life. But there was no way I would be able to escape unnoticed. There's a long tube of what I assume is some sort of anaesthetic designed to keep me unconscious attached to my arm, but I don't bother trying to get it off. Right now, my mind is elsewhere. Thinking about the boring room, of course, but more importantly, planning how I would go about killing Katniss. Who, apparently, is a mutt.

I can't believe I didn't see it sooner.