I sat there in front of the screen blinking rapidly and breathing slowly at the black screen. Katniss, what the hell did you just do? I wondered. I wasn't sure what was worse: watching my sister on the screen competing for the second time in the Hunger Games and fearing for her death or not being able to see a single thing because of an empty screen. I knew that she was hiding something from us when she came back—well, something other than the horror of the games. Everyone knew the Hunger Games changed a person. Even before my sister, District Twelve's own Haymitch Abernathy had shown us that. But Katniss always seemed to be hiding things from us. I knew it was her way of trying to protect us, but still, we are family and family is supposed to tell each other things. A family is supposed to be your support system and she wouldn't let us be that for her.

Things had gotten worse after my sister's meeting with President Snow. I found it strange that he had decided to pay us a visit, but I wasn't sure what had been discussed. All I knew was that she became more paranoid and secretive after meeting with him, something I hadn't thought possible. I could only conclude that President Snow had something on Katniss. I wasn't sure exactly what he had over her head, but I was intuitive enough to know that something was amiss. Something wasn't quite right. And even with all the intuitive leaps, I could possibly muster, I never could quite figure out what was going on with Katniss.

When it was announced that Katniss was going back into the Hunger Games for a second time, my heart broke and watching her for the second time around in those blasted games being broadcasted for all of Panem to see was pure torture. Yet there was a very thin silver lining: Katniss wasn't going to go down without a fight. While I was only eighteen months younger than my sister, I knew that she was the only one of us Everdeen sisters that could win the games. I seemed painfully dull and ordinary compared to my sisters. Maybe it was just the middle child thing—but Katniss had her bravery and Prim her empathy and medical skills. The only thing I could do was spin a decent story, but what good was that to me in District Twelve where people were struggling to stay alive? Sometimes I felt like I was a disappointment to the Everdeen name, to everything my father had built to accomplish in his short time on this earth. I didn't like feeling so inept.

I glanced over at my mother. She sat there with her lips pursed, worry clearly written over her face. She was still staring at the blank screen hoping that something would flicker back on. Prim sat beside her, holding onto her arm. We just sat there.

When I would later try to recall what happened, my memory drew blanks from the disruption of the broadcast until the time Gale Hawthorne rushed into our house in a state of panic. Gale looked so strong and serious as he frantically began to explain how the Peacemakers pulled out from the area. My brow furrowed and my gaze puzzled. He must have understood my confusion because he explained that District Twelve was going to be burned to the ground—just as the Capital had done to District Thirteen all those years ago. Because of Katniss' show, we were to be the sacrifice to atone for her sins-to be made a spectacle of for the other districts. To show them what would happen if they continued in their rebellious ways.

I froze in place, unable to bring myself to move as Prim quickly rushed to my mother's side, to keep my poor mother from falling over as she processed Gale's words. My hand tried to find anything to grab hold of to brace myself with the blow from this knowledge. We all knew why this was happening, although none of us voiced the reason: Katniss. Gale didn't make eye contact with me. I think sometimes, my appearance reminded him too much of Katniss. I knew that he had feelings for my older sister for a long time now, but Katniss never reciprocated them. Even then, the fact that Katniss was engaged to another Hunger Games victor: Peeta Melark, hasn't entirely deterred Gale. Although, competition was somewhat fierce because Peta had also fancied my sister for some time-he even admitted his feelings for her on live television during his and Katniss' first Hunger Games.

It seemed like everyone fancied my sister. Hell, who wouldn't have feelings for Katniss? I wasn't exactly sure what the nature of Gale's and my sister's relationship these days; but I knew better than to ever think of Gale in a way that would further complicate the situation. I promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn't do that—I didn't want to make things awkward for my sister…or myself for that matter.

I slowly blinked as I watched my mother move to gather a few items, but Gale's hand flew out to stop her. He said that there wasn't time to grab anything. He told us that we had to get out of District Twelve. He said that we'd already wasted too much time and we needed to run. We had to get past the electric fence and run like hell. Prim grabbed my hand which seemed to unfreeze me. Hand in hand we ran from the house and toward the fence. We ran toward the forest I had been on the outskirts of many times. It was the place I went to write and think—but I had never told a single soul. If anyone knew where I had gone—well, I could've gotten in serious trouble; but that all seemed irrelevant now. The Capital was trying to kill us anyway and it wasn't because some silly girl slipped through a fence. Although, I suppose, some could muse that it was.

Prim and I easily slipped through the fence, so we both turned around to help our mother get through. She kept turning back to look, almost like Lot's wife from the story about Sodom and Gomorrah, only she didn't turn into a pillar of salt. It was obvious that my mother had strong objections of leaving the only place she had ever called home—of leaving my deceased father and the only place Katniss would know to look for us if she somehow made it out alive. Along with that, there were doubts floating about if we'd be able to survive in the forest—but it was a chance we had to take. This was our only option for survival.

Once we all were safely past the fence, I could hear Gale shouting directions to those running and fleeing District Twelve. I had no idea where we were going—but I could sense the urgency surging through us. Overhead a low rumbling could be heard—my heart began to thud.

I looked up—which was a mistake because it distracted me from running around obstacles of the forest. I tripped over a fallen tree branch and fell onto the hard ground. I heard something snap—at first I thought it must be the tree branch until I felt the pain shooting up my leg.

I screamed which caused Prim to stop and turn back toward me. She started running in my direction when out of nowhere Gale appeared and pushed her toward the rest of the people running. Prim tried to stop him by screaming my name—but with one look at me on the ground, he told her that there was nothing she could do to help me. For a moment I began to panic. Was he going to leave me? Was I to be a casualty of the firebombing too? I thought he was going to be as he turned his head and watched those fleeing further into the woods—but he was just waiting for Prim to run toward my mother.

Gale ran toward me and knelt on the forest floor beside me. I held my ankle in my hands—putting pressure on it as I looked up to his steel eyes. "I—I think it's broken," I said through gritted teeth, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. "What are we gonna do? I can't walk. There's no way I can keep going."

Gale took one look at it before he looked up at the pain in my eyes. Without saying anything he swooped me up in his strong arms and told me to hold on. Everything seemed to be happening so fast as I wrapped my arms around his neck and hung on tightly. I could feel his arms holding me tightly and despite the dire situation, I found myself feeling somewhat safe in his strong arms. Maybe I was just euphoric from the adrenaline running through me—but for a moment, despite how terrible things were, I found myself enjoying this.

But soon, the pain began to grow to the point that I couldn't handle it. I rested my head against the crook of Gale's neck as he continued to carry me through the forest. I felt pathetic. I just wanted to give up and let sleep take over. Gale must have noticed what I was doing because he began to talk to me. Really talk to me—probably more than we've ever actually talked to each other intentionally.

"Bri—Briony," Gale whispered for only me to hear. I tried to focus my eyes on him, but I could feel my eyelids getting heavier by the second. I didn't say anything at first, so he repeated my name and our eyes met for a brief moment before I looked away with my face aflame. He repeated my name a third time.

"What?" I asked him drowsily. The expression on his face was hard to read. I was pretty sure that it was concern on his face, but Gale Hawthorne wasn't the easiest person to read. Years of trying to take care of his family and then being forced to work in the mines had calloused him.

"Stay with me." His tone was even despite the hint of sounding out of breathing because he was running through the forest carrying more weight than necessary—my dead weight. I tried to focus on his words, but I was just so tired and I told him so. He mulled things over for the briefest moment before telling me an outright lie to win me over. "We're almost there."

"You're a terrible liar," I called him out on it. Something I don't think I've ever really done before. I don't know why I chose now of all times to do it. I mean, he was being kind enough to lug me through the forest when he could have easily left me there to die with the others. He urged me to stay awake. For a moment I tried to focus on his face and staying awake. I tried to say something, anything to him—but the only word that managed to barely escape my lips was his name. "Gale."

He must have realized how much I was struggling to stay awake on my own, so he tried to help me out. "Tell me a story—what've you been writing about?"

"How do you know about that?" Hardly anyone knew about that and I had most certainly never mentioned anything about writing to Gale. Our conversations normally consisted of few words and head nods.

But then he continued to surprise me. "I've known you for years. We're not exactly strangers."

"But we're not exactly friends."

"I know things about you." If I were feeling better I would have stood in front of him with my hands on my hips questioning him. What had Katniss told him about me? Part of me didn't want to know—but the pain shooting up in my leg must have altered my ability to filter my thoughts.

"Like what?"

"That when Katnip and I would go out hunting—you'd follow behind us and write in the forest, but you made sure to leave before we got back. Or on the anniversary of your father's—you'd walk over to the mine and leave him a letter." My brow furrowed. How did he know about that stuff? Especially the second thing. I always made sure no one was around.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Dunno. Didn't want to embarrass you, I guess. So are you gonna tell me or not?"

"You wouldn't like it."

"Why don't you let me decide that for myself."

"I—I—" I didn't get a chance to respond. Instead, I slowly slipped into a state of unconsciousness from the overwhelming pain. Why couldn't I have been stronger like Katniss? Or calmer in distress like Prim? Why did I have to be so pathetic? The last thing I heard was Gale swearing underneath his breath before everything went black.