So I saw a photo on Facebook about a month ago, and it had a horribly written paragraph about Cinna being released and finding Katniss. It was so badly written I just had to fix it ;) This is my first story, PLEASE REVIEW!

I sat in the living room that morning, my children played in front of me. I watched as try chased each other from room to room, Rose easily outdistancing her brother Roran who still ran with the unsteadiness of a toddler. As I sipped my coffee they intermittently cried out, "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, watch this!" "Mommy look at me!" "Mommy he tripped me!" I just watched them and smiled, feeling the hard win happiness blossom inside of me. Even though my body has healed so that even the deepest scars from the war were gone and forgotten, nothing can truly heal the battle ravaged torn scanned over scar that is my heart. Still, admittedly the two smiling faces playing in front of me have helped quite a bit. Every hug from them is a gift, every smile a gem, every laugh a soothing salve that may one day make my heart while again.

Suddenly I am no longer in my sun warmed living room, I am in the arena and my leg is nothing but a ball of fire radiating pain. Until a day that would come in too few years I would think this burn was the worst pain I could feel. I can smell the sharp chemicals in the slave I am rubbing into my leg, feel the pain seep away. Then I am in a cave with Peeta and he is dying, and I can do almost nothing to save him. I scrape the remains of the burn medicine from the tin and dab it into his wound, praying that of this does not help the game makers will have mercy and send medicine. I am in the training room hanging the dummy representing the maker of the first games I was in, Madge is handing me her Mockingjay pin, Finnick is being attacked by mutts and I hear his death screech, Gale is being whipped. All these memories and more zip around my mind melding together as a red haze begins swarming around the edge of my vision. Prim is burning. Peeta is strangling me. The deaths I have cause are all facing me. I try to stop the flood if memories, I bury my head between my legs so I don't faint and attempt to get a grip on myself.

I feel a tiny hand on my back, and an even smaller one on my arm. "Mommy?" A scared voice asks. "Are you ok?" As my daughter asks this my son crawls up onto my lap. I am scaring them both and I hate myself for that. Honestly I am also scaring myself. I have to stop this panic attack before it escapes me and evolves into a full on meltdown. I wrap one arm around my son, and reach to smooth my daughters hair with the other. "It's fine honey, Mommy just wanted to rest her head for a minute. It's ok, everything is fine." Except for the fact that as I push away more memories I feel like my brain is eating itself. I stand up, hoisting my son on my hip and holding my daughters hand. "Come on, do you want to go for a walk? That should help mommy feel better. I'm fine" Ha! I hope they believe this lie that I wish I could convince myself. I know that even if the rest of my life was to be perfect that I am too damaged to bet be fine again. I wrap my children in coats, and grab my bow and quiver from the closet. I leave a note for Peeta and I walk with my kids until I feel calm again. It is here surrounded by nature, with my children running among the trees that I feel the closest to being normal.

Here in the green sanctuary I finally allow myself to think of the newspaper headline I had been trying to ignore for the past week. "CAPITOL RELEASES ALL IT'S PRISONERS OF WAR" After seven years the legalities have finally fallen into place so the Capitol has been forced to release all prisoners it took from the districts. It hurts to think about. I know that so many people will be reunited with loved ones, find friends and family they had thought dead, get a piece of their lives back. But I will get nothing. The laughing children besides me and the man at home are my only real family now. Ok, I may as well add Haymitch to that short list too. But the point is all the friends and family that I lost are dead. I have absolutely no chance of getting them back. The worst part is most of them died before my eyes. Finnick who was decapitated, Prim who became another Girl on Fire, Cinna who was beaten to a pulp. I have to stop these thoughts before I meltdown again. The past is the past and I can do nothing to change it. So for now I put my lost loved ones out of my mind and focus on the ones who still remain with me.

After a fairly nice afternoon of playing with my children and attempting to teach them the ways of the forest, we return home my arms heavy with game I collected from my string of traps. As we enter the house my children run off to Peetas art studio to tell of the fun they had, while I store the food I collected and head to the study. I only go in here about once a week, it holds to many bad memories. If not for the books it contained I suspect I would just board up this dark dusty room and forget about it. Ah books, another of the few things that help me cope with life. I have read every book that came in the study, and when I finished those I contacted Effie who sends me a new batch of reading materials every few weeks. But until her new shipment comes to me I will have to find some old favorites to enjoy instead. I have grabbed several books already before I see a pleasant surprise is waiting for me in the desk, the books my bit have come yet but the mail has arrived. I shift through it, placing aside packages I ordered for Rorans upcoming birthday before I skim the letters. I read them eagerly, absorbing news from my mother, Gale, Annie, Johanna, then I read them all again. Then I pile up all letters with a Capitol seal and place them in my ever growing kindling pile. With every batch of letters I doubtlessly get requests from the Capitol asking for me to be interviewed, or write my biography, or have my face plastered on a building. I never reply to them but it does make it easier to start fires when I always have kindling.

I thought I was done but- one letter is left. I did not recognize the address so I was sure it was from the Capitol, but looking at it I see it lacks the Capitol seal. I feel the creaminess of the envelope as my fingertips brush against it, I wonder who it is from. I slide my fingernail under the lip of the envelope, I pull the small piece of paper out. I see the paper is a light shade of purple, and in the faint light of the room I see the letter glimmers with slight specks of gold. I can't explain why as I unfold it my breathing quickens and my heart pounds in my chest. I unfold it and see a phone number, and under it eight words.

I am glad I bet on you- Cinna

If ANYONE wants me to continue this, I will. If not I think this is a pretty good dramatic ending :] This is my first fan fiction so reviews will make me ecstatic!