Tonight the nightmares are worse than normal.

They are always very bad, but tonight almost everyone I have known has come to taunt me. My Father and Prim, dead with my own arrows, and my mother weeping over them and cursing me. Gale, smiling at what my life has now become because he refused to shoot me after I killed Coin. Glimmer, with her swollen face, tacking me and allowing Clove to finish the knife job she started. All these people torment me as I sleep. And I do not blame them.

Let's just say, since my return to District 12, my life (if you can call this living) has not been great. I know that Peeta has returned, and is doing much better. I have no idea about Haymitch, only that he is back to drinking and is raising geese to support himself. Sometimes people come and try to help me out of my depression, but it almost never works. I don't talk much anymore. Why should I? The only people I cared about, or who cared about me, are dead or gone. Peeta doesn't count anymore. I doubt me cares about me anymore.

I'm thinner then I have ever been these days. My skin graphs are dead and dry, and I am often tired, even though I sleep all the time. I don't even attempt to take my meds, and I know no one really cares. Doctors on government pay roll once stopped by, but I got enough energy to lock myself in my room until they left. They left Greasy Sae some pills to help me, but I crushed them instead. Crushing them reminded me of that soldier crushing the Nightlock. I wish Peeta had just let me take it and let me die.

I wake up in a pool of sweat. I know I've been screaming, because I always do during nightmares. My bed is large and cold. Not to mention lonely. The moon lights up Victor's Village, making Peeta's house bright with moonlight. Suddenly, I see his lights flick on and see him come to the window. He looks very healthy, although I'm too far away to see his eyes. His hair, though, is too long and is in a tangled mop on his head.

I don't know why, but I have the sudden urge to go to the window… and because I don't think now days, I do. He lifts his head and looks towards my house. I don't know if he can see me, but I feel like he is staring right at me. And for once, I don't look away.

Thanks for reading chapter one! Please comment or message me, because I have a hard time continuing to write when I do not have any support. Any errors, comment those too, because I am far from perfect with spelling and grammar. I do not own the Hunger Games, just these little stories, thanks!