AN: Here is the something new I've been working on. This will NOT be updated reguraly-only when I'm inspired. It's based on the book that Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch make in the end of Mockingjay. There will be, of course, pages about Finnick, Prim, Cinna, Leeg 1 and 2, along with the rest of them-there will also be obscure and small paragraphs about less known characters-either mentioned in the books or my fanfics. This will be a long, on-going project as the amount of people that can go in the book will probably not be limited to just their losses.

The next chapters will contain the actual pages from the book.

There's a knock on my door and I'm roused from my semi-numb state to answer it. I've been moving around doing my daily routines waiting for more of it to make sense-mean more than just something I'm doing. I'm just waiting for it to take meaning again. So when I open the door it takes a minute for my eyes to focus on who's standing there.

Haymitch brushes past me before I can hardly take him in. He places a package on the table, "I'm not your mail service. Find someone else to deliver your packages, sweetheart." I watch as he pries open a bottle, and heads back out the door.

I stand there looking at the package still in a daze before my eyes finally focus on the name. It's from Dr. Aurelius. I lift the lid and find heavy parchment sheets in the box. It's for the book I mentioned to him. Not a book about my experiences, not really. It's about the people who are gone—the people we don't need to forget no matter what.

I sit down at the table and touch the parchment, trying to finally process the words that that need to come to life—the words that need to capture each of them perfectly so that no one will ever forget. I can't trust these details just to memory, they're far too precious for that.

…

When Peeta comes to eat, I think of how to approach the subject. I hadn't really thought it would ever happen—but even Dr. Aurelius was pushing this to happen. So after dinner, I say it bluntly. "Peeta, I want you to help me make a book."

He puts his plate back down on the table, and sits back down in his chair. "A book?"

"About the Games…" My voice catches, "About sacrifice."

Blue eyes look up into mine, and I start to falter and look away, "A book about sacrifice." He reaches out to my hand, "Prim."

"Prim," I choke out. "All of them, Finnick…my dad. Even Cato…your family." I look back into his eyes. "Like when you painted the games…You can't forget, we shouldn't forget. No matter how painful, because it's wrong. Wrong for me—for any of us to try to forget Cinna, Finnick, or—or—Prim!" I'm trying not to fall apart. It takes so long to put myself back together, just like Finnick said. Finnick…

Peeta clutches my hand, "Look at me Katniss. I'm here. We won't forget them, we will never forget them."

I hold on to him and we just sit there as the fear subsides again. I make my list wondering if my sanity will hold out for me to make this book. Even if it doesn't, I have to. Through the haze of my tears, I look up into his blue eyes and I'm reminded again that nothing can ever make those eyes deadly to me.

Tomorrow we will start the book.