Chapter 1: Leaving

I stared down at my bruises. I was used to Gale hitting me now. It happened every day whether he was drunk or not. Why did I marry him? Here he comes now, I hide in the bathroom.

I hear the door open. I feel like a mouse, and Gale's the cat. A big, abusive cat.

"Katniss!" Gale shouts.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Where are you?" He's in our bedroom now.

"In the bathroom." I say shakily.

"Can I come in?" he inquires.

"Just a second." I am terrified of what will happen to me.

I open the door. Gale stands there. But, he's not drunk, or hitting me.

"I need to talk to you. I want to ask you something." He doesn't look angry

"Ok." I know that tears have fallen onto my shoes.

He ushers me to our bed. I sit a distance from him.

"Come here." he orders. "Please? I know you're scared, Katniss. That's what I want to talk to you about."

"Don't hurt me, please, Gale, I love you." I shake. "Why do you hurt me?"

"I don't know, Katniss. Work is really stressful" Gale hangs his head.

"Why do you call me all those names, though?"

"What?" He defends.

"You always call me stuff like slut and you call me your little whore." I cup my face in my hands.

"I know, I hate myself for it, too." He doesn't look sorry to me.

"You're just saying that to make me feel better." I mumble.

"Not true, I love you so much, baby."

"No. No. NO! NO!" I hyperventilate.

"Katniss?" He holds me.

"What?" I'm shaking to death.

"Would sex make up for it?" He pulls on my pants.

"No!" I tug away.

"Honey, please?" Gale begs. "It could fix us."

"No, Gale, I don't enjoy being abused and then be agreeing that having a child will make it better."

"Why?" Gale looks sad.

"I don't want you to abuse the baby when it's alone."

"I won't!" Gale looks angry now. He stands up to tower over me, raising his hand.

I feel a sharp pain on my cheek.

"That's why I won't have sex with you." I sobbed. He ran out of the room, then the house.

I write a note. I take off my rings.

Gale,

I'm tired of you abusing me, and then wanting to have sex. It's not right to do that to me. So, I'm leaving you, for someone who loves me.

Here's some hints about the man I'm leaving you for.

He's a painter.

He's a baker.

He's blonde with oceans for eyes.

He never takes sugar in his tea.

He always double-knots his shoe-laces.

He sleeps with the windows open.

We were in two Hunger Games together,

I love him.

And he loves me.

And you know exactly who he is.

Love,

Katniss.

P.S. Here's your rings back. I realized that I never wanted them.