The next twenty four hours are some of the most excruciating I've ever been through. I know that my behavior is worrying my mother, but I can't help it. I often found myself staring blankly at a wall, wanting to cry, but being unable to. I haven't cried since last night with my mother, and I plan to stay as strong as I can from here on out. But how much longer will I be able to stand it? The Games haven't even started yet, and I'm feeling more horrible than ever.

I know that things are bound to get much worse from now on in, but I find myself still in denial of what's happening. Even though the evidence is right infront of my eyes, I try to pretend as if it isn't happening, as if she isn't far from home now, doing God knows what.

I imagine they're feeding her well. I'm happy that she's getting food before going in, but it reminds me too much of what they do to animals before sending them to the slaughter house. It's discustingly similar to what they must be doing to her, I think bitterly. The idea of my Catnip being used that way is infuriating. But I don't let myself get too angered; I can't give up on her. I need to feed her family, as well as my own, with only myself to hunt.

The morning after the reaping, I wake before sunrise and head out into the woods. Like usual, the gate behind the Seam isn't alive with electricity, so I can sneek under it without needing to worry about being burned to a crisp. My bow and ropes in hand, I walk through the woods quietly until I reach our meeting place.

When I first arrive, I squeeze my eyes shut tightly and imagine that when I open them, Katniss will be sitting on our usual rock with the same long braid blowing behind her in the wind. I imagine that when I open them, she'll see me and smile. Maybe tell me to come and sit with her under the sunrise.

But I know that in reality, the moment I open my eyes, the very things I see behind my eyelids will be nowhere in sight.

Sure enough, I open my eyes to see that I'm completely, horribly alone. There's a sinking feeling in my stomach, one that I can't recognize but am able to place as sorrow. I can't remember hunting alone since I was fourteen years old, other than the times that Katniss has been sick. I can't remember one time where I had to watch my own back, and not watch hers. How can I do this alone? How can I carry on, feeding both our families, without her here to keep me in place?

Then I remember. I made her a promise, right before she was taken away. I promised her to keep them fed, and that's exactly what I do.

But still, as much as I try to stay on task, I barely catch a thing.

XXXXXXXXXX

I immediately know that I'm going to be late. After four long hours of not being able to catch much game, I gave up and decided to come home. We have enough food to last us the day, anyway. Besides, I have bigger problems to worry about at the moment, like how I may be missing the Opening Ceremonies.

"Gale!" my mother yells as I enter. "You'd better hurry, the seal of Panem has already come onscreen!"

I burst into our small living room, tearing off my shoes on the way in and almost falling straight on my face. Rory stiffles a laugh at my entry, and I glare at him, wondering how he can be so comfortable.

"Gale, it's only the Opening Ceremonies," he tells me. His face softens slightly. "Nothing bad can happen to her yet."

I nod, my face slowly building itself into an emotionless mask. I want to appear strong infront of my siblings, because I know that if I look nervous, it will definitely rub off on them. Especially little Posy, who still hasn't a clue on what's going on, being only four years old.

Seeking her comfort, I lean down and scoop her up into my arms before sitting down on the couch next to my mother. She nuzzles her face into my chest, already tired at seven o'clock at night.

"Gawel," she says, her big grey eyes looking up at me. "Whut are you wuwied about?"

I sigh, and look at my mother for help. "Nothing yet, Posy," she tells her softly. "There's nothing to be worried about."

Posy doesn't look too concinced, but she decides to leave it and snuggle back into my chest. Her breathing slows in seconds as she slowly dozes off.

"It's starting," announces Vick. And it's true. The national anthem has ended, and the cameras are gliding through the streets of the Capitol until they arrive at the starting point of the parade. People are seated in bleachers all around the entrance, screaming and waving around signs as brightly coloured lights shine in their faces. Their excitement in seeing the tributes who are all most likely going to die in the next few days is increasing my loathing towards them. But I don't show it.

"Welcome, people of Panem!" President Snow's heavily accented voice booms through the speakers. More cheers errupt. "I welcome you all to the Opening Ceremonies of the 74th Annual Hunger Games!"

The camera spins around quickly, and a large display of fireworks explodes into the sky. They last only about fifteen seconds, and soon, we can see the screaming Capitol citizens in the bleachers again.

"Please remain fully clothed throughout the entire parade," Snow says quickly, as if his words will be less heard if he says them fast. It never surprises me the things they must do in the Capitol. "Now, let the fun begin!"

The names of the districts, along with the names of the tributes, are shown on the large screen as the chariots enter. Screams ring out mostly for the Career tributes, but I'm too nervous to care. What if they make Katniss look ridiculous? What if they dress her in awful clothes, or no clothes at all? If her stylists don't pull this off, then I don't know what can possibly get her enough sponsers.

I pay no attention to the other tributes. I mean, sure, I take note of the ones that appear intimidating or beautiful enough to get loads of sponsers, but I don't let myself worry about who she'll be up again. All I can think about is how Katniss will look, what her stylists have dressed her in - if anything at all.

I pray she has some clothes on. Last year our tributes were sent out naked, and I don't know what I'd do if Katniss were forced to do the same. She'd be horrified, and so would I.

I squeeze Posy almost too tightly as the door opens for District Twelve. Not a single sound can be heard in our living room apart from the television. Even the sounds of our breathing have momentarily paused.

The chariot pulls out, and my breath hitches in my throat as I see them, engulfed in flames.

I lean forward suddenly, sending my little sister flailing to the floor. I apologize weakly as my mother picks her up, but don't pay any more attention to her. My eyes are too glued on the screen to be able to see anything else. Before I have time to really panic, I notice that the flames aren't hurting them. I see Peeta's face first, glowing and smiling, not a trace of pain in his expression. I am able to breathe again.

That is, until the camera moves to the left and I catch sight of Katniss.

Her hair is pulled back into her signiture braid, but she looks more painfully beautiful than any other human being I have ever seen. Her face is lit in all the right places, showing off her high cheekbones and strong features, and her eyes seem to be glowing with power and determination. The flames iluminate her face so perfectly, it's as if she's meant to be like this, like a girl on fire.

"She's beautiful," my mother murmurs. I nod, unable to say more.

We watch in silence as the crowd screams their names, throwing roses and even rising in their seats. Peeta smiles at them all, unbelievably confident and happy. Katniss starts waving, blowing them kisses, even.

I feel as if I should be scared seeing her like this, in the Capitol, with their citizens screaming out her name. But all I can think is that maybe she really does have a chance of sponsers after all. Maybe she'll really come home.

...

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