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Chapter 2: Face Down, Sunshine

I impatiently glance up at the clock. The digital clock displays to me that it is 3:23 PM. After my visit at the bakery, I came straight to my mom's house, basically begging her to help Peeta. At first, she was confused by my request; she had probably only met Peeta once or twice before. I myself, haven't stayed in touch with him, besides the occasional times we run into each other, since I've graduated high school.

When I was at school for my final year, Peeta had just entered his freshman year. I remember that all the school lunch ladies would always fawn over him and ask him for help in the kitchen, and he would politely and eagerly oblige. He was such a smart and helpful boy back then, and I suppose he still is today. I can recall how shy he was when he walked into my pre-calculous class, and handed a slip of paper to the teacher. Apparently he was already very advance in math, that his previous instructor requested to transfer him into my class.

I suppose the secret to being a good baker is being able to correctly calculate the ingredients for pastries and breads. When we were given in-class assignments, everyone knew that he finished first, but he was always too timid to answer any questions that the teacher asked.

The two of us actually became semi-good friends that year. I used to ask him for help on the many problems I had trouble with, and in return, I tried to stop any upperclassmen from bullying him.

Poor Peeta… I shake my head as my mind begins to remember the events that took place three and a half years ago.

Peeta was such an uncompetitive guy that he wouldn't even mind if a girl beat him during P.E. He was like his dad: They both lacked to drive to to make someone feel inferior to them. Because of that, he had both a large group of friends and an abundance of combative boys; they saw him as easy prey, and picked on him. Even his two brothers,Verick who was a senior (like me) and Rhai who was a junior, would ridicule him.

Verick was the most like his vile mother. I can recall him being a huge play boy at school. I don't even want to know how many girls he has slept with and then walked out on. Rhai's temperament was a fusion of his two parents. He was probably the most balance of the three - he usually didn't start fights, but he won't take anyone's crap either.

The boys, plus a tiny amount of upperclass girls, would reprimand him on a daily basis. Peeta, being the calm kid he was, would accept the insults with a grain of salt. Not once did he lash out at the bullies. I think I admired that the most about him. He seemed just so self-secured that no amount of teasing could daunt him.

One day; however, junior boy, who's name escapes me, was sexually harassing one of Peeta's best friends, Delly Catwright. The boy was unyielding with tormenting that poor girl. One time, he grabbed her butt, which sent her running into Peeta's arms. We were actually in our pre-cal class when she un-expectantly bursts through the doors, with tears streaking her face.

That was the first time I had ever seen Peeta's temper get tested. After he had gotten over the initial shock, he calmed her down and told her that he would take care of things. When he told her that, she just nodded her head, she hugged him once more, and then she left the classroom.

The next day, Peeta tried to join the school's wrestling club. The boy coincidently happened to be part of that club. Of course, many of the boys just cracked up at him. The president of the club denied him membership almost immediately; nonetheless, Peeta was determined to be a part of the club.

I can remember his exact words to the president, "How about this? If I can beat a member in the club, you will take into consideration my membership?"

The wrestling president could not resist the opportunity to utterly humiliate Peeta, and so he agreed. He asked which member he wanted to take on; of course, Peeta chose the junior that wouldn't stop bothering Delly.

At this point, almost the entire school had heard about this event. Hundreds of students piled into the gym room, ready in anticipation, to watch the 'stupid' boy get knocked around by one of the clubs best wrestlers. When the rumors had reached me, I was shocked and scared for Peeta. I rushed over into the gym just in time to witness the greatest phenomenon in school history.

Shy, freshman, baker boy, Peeta Mellark, had the junior boy pinned in utmost defeat. While he was pinning the boy, he screamed at him telling him if he ever touched Delly again, the sprained shoulder he was about to receive will be the last of his problems. All the boy could do was let out a small whimper and nod his head.

And sure enough, the boy showed up at my house that night, because my mom had to tread his sprained shoulder. He never harassed Delly Catwright again. After that incident, the wrestling club all but begged him to join. He just shrugged his shoulders and nonchalantly told them that he doesn't enjoy violence.

Once I was done with my recollections of the past, I checked the clock again. It read 4:10.

What the heck. Screw it. I'm going now.

I got of the couch, told my mom and prim that I was leaving, and then I raced out the door. I half jogged through the streets of the Seam, and then I picked up my pace a little bit just before I arrived at the town square. When I arrived in front of the bakery, I unconsciously ran my fingers through my hair, trying to make myself look better.

If I were to make an educated guess, I'd say it is about 4:27 right now.

Perfect timing. I silently praise myself. I push open the glass door, and make my way into the bakery. Once inside, I see Mr. Mellark behind the counter. I wave politely at him, and he waves back.

"Can I help you with something, miss Everdeen?" He asks, courteously.

"Oh, no thank you," I tell him, "I'm just waiting for Peeta to finish his shift."

"Ah really? He will probably only be a few more short moments, but I'll let him know you're here. Hopefully that will generate some motivation for him to work harder," Mr. Mellark blithely told me.

I nodded my head in thanks towards him, and he turned around and walked into the back of the bakery. A few minutes later, I can hear what sounded like several pots fall down and Mrs. Mellark begin to scream. I smile at this, wondering which Mellark boy was the cause of the mischief. I already can guess that it wasn't Peeta because… well because it's Peeta! Just then, I am greeted by those unclouded, clear blue eyes.

"Hi," he says, curtly.

"Hey," I get off the chair at a table, and walk over to where he stands.

"I'm really sorry about making you wait… Rhai dropped several dishes of icing on the floor… He then ran out of the back of the bakery saying he's late for something, and so I decided to clean it up before my mother became overly irate," Peeta explained.

"Don't worry about it, that's fine," I say honestly, "I just hope that you didn't hurt your leg anymore when you bent down to clean."

I am now concerned about this kids well-being.

"Nah, I doubt it," he casually assumes, "If anything, the walk to your mom's house will be worse."

"I'm sure you will be able to survive!" I playfully told him, while I looped my right arm around his left arm and pulled him towards my mom's house.

We arrived at my mother's house without to many difficulties; besides Peeta having to stop every few minutes, because of the pain surging through his leg. I walk him over to a burgundy couch and command him to take a seat, he promptly complies.

My mother then walks into the room and greets him, "Hello Peeta, long time no see. How are you feeling?"

"Hello, Mrs. Everdeen. So far I have been pretty good, how are you doing today?" I can see my mom almost melt at the pure form of politeness coming from his voice. That's one thing Gale was never very goof at, talking respectfully.

"I am doing just fine, thank you. Now lets take a look at the leg, shall we?" Peeta nods his head and tentatively lifted the button of hid jeans over his left shin.

My mother and I both audibly gasp at the sight, which causes Peeta's face to slightly pinking.

"I don't think it's too bad…" He says, unsurely.

Not to bad? I think to myself.

His left shin is completely reddened with a copious amount of angry blisters.

"Oh, Peeta!" My mom exclaims, "How could you wait all day to get this treated?"

He nervously bit his lower lip and said, "Well, you know, I had a lot of work that needed to be taken care of first. But don't worry, I did have the time to run a little bit of cold water over it."

"Peeta," I say with a thick sound of concern, "If I had known it was this bad, I would have forced you to come with me in the morning."

Before Peeta could protest, my mother elevated his leg onto our coffee table, and began to treat it. She mixed up a bowl full of various herbs and liquids - which then she plastered onto his burn. Almost instantly, a small, rapid sigh is released from Peeta's mouth.

I watch him with disbelief. Disbelief that he prioritized his baking duties over his own health. Seeing him accept the pain so willingly, strikes a nerve with me. It's not because I'm jealous that he is such a great human being, it is because I notice something that we have in common.

We are both willing to go through pain, without complaining, if it means less drama in our lives. When Gale hurts me, I don't fight back too much, because it would just make things more complicated. I can see that now, when I see Peeta.

"This scar will most likely leave a scar on you body," my mom warns him. He just simply smiles and lets out a light laugh.

"I don't mind. For a baker, it's almost like a badge of honor," he jokes.

I can tell that my mom appreciates this. Most of the time, her patients are in an erratic state. Peeta must be a breath of fresh, amenable air.

Over the next two weeks, Peeta and I started to hang out together. It was nice. He really was the sweetest, most sensitive boy to ever live in District Twelve. Not once, did he ever act like a stereo typical merchant snob - if anything, he acted, and thought about himself, in the complete opposite way. He has a very self-deprecating humor about him, that I love and dislike. I love it because he's not an ego-maniac, but dislike it because I don't like it when he puts himself down.

During the two weeks, the two of us began to look at different apartment complexes. Peeta has been working long before he can remember, and has been very faithful with saving his money. He had expressed his eagerness to move out of his house, that's over top the bakery, and get his own place. We eventually found a nice, quiet apartment that would suit him just fine. Peeta isn't a hard person to please. He didn't care if the place was fancy or not, he just wanted his independence. We found a cozy apartment that consisted of a small kitchen, a bedroom (with a bathroom attached to it), and a room that could function as a living and dinning room.

One morning, we met up together at our new favorite hangout spot. It was in this beautiful field of wild flowers, just outside the fence. I have been beyond the surrounding fence many of times, but I had never been outside the fence that was on the opposite side of the Seam. I convinced Peeta to go exploring in the woods with me. In the beginning he was slightly nervous, I knew he had never been on the other side of the fence before.

But after exploring the new side of the woods, we came across this small clearing. It was covered in flowers and the greenest grass I have ever seen. Now, every other morning (when he has the mornings off), Peeta and I share a sunrise with a hot cup of coffee.

We just sit next to each other, in a relaxed silence - just enjoying the different shades of yellows and oranges streak across the sky.

After a few minutes of silence, Peeta breaks it, "I wish I could just stop time, and live in this moment forever," he says poetically, "I mean, I don't remember the last time I was ever this… Peaceful."

I nod my head in agreement. I then lay my head down, against the grass, raise my mug of coffee towards Peeta, "To our sun rises together, may we always find peace."

He turns his body towards my general direction, and then clinks his mug against mine, repeating, "Always."

"KATNISS! Fuck! Katniss get the shit down here!"

I almost literally leap out of my skin! I am momentarily frozen by Gale's sudden outburst. We had just finished eating dinner, and I went upstairs to get ready for bed.

Whatever that just happened… Is really bad.

I rush down the stairs, now overly worried with what is wrong with Gale. As soon as I enter the living room, I automatically regret coming down. His face only reads pure fury.

He glares daggers at me, "Katniss, I just got of the phone with my friend Isacar. Do you know what Isacar just told me?" He asks dangerously.

"No, what did he say?" I am confused and scared to find out.

"Isacar called me to mention to me about a couple certain people," He says while examining me closely.

"Ok… Is something wrong?"

"Yes, actually something is very much so wrong! He told me that he has seen you several times frolicking with the youngest frosting princess!" He bellows out accusingly. My face pales.

"I… I can explain that," I carefully counter.

"Ok then. PLEASE FUCKING EXPLAIN! Because to me, it sounds like you're having an AFFAIR behind my back!"

"Gale, I'm not having an affair. Peeta is just a very good friend of mine!" I almost yell.

I never did anything with him that should betray Gale's trust in me. Yet, I have found myself several times wondering what it would have been like if we ended up together instead. Maybe that's why I can feel the anger and defensiveness build up in me, possibly the way I feel about Peeta might be changing.

"Don't give me that 'just friends' bull shit! Both you and me already know, that you are sneaking around right before me!" He exploded. The back of his hand also exploded on my face.

I find myself falling to the ground, hard. I quickly move my hand to my nose, and I can feel the blood now pour out of it.

"I have had enough of your defiant ways! I am the ONLY man you're allowed to have in your life. Well besides your father, and he's DEAD!" I now feel a a current of fury course through my body at Gales cheap, jibe.

"Shut up! Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!" I astonish myself when I hear the malice in my voice. It's been years since I have ever truly challenged Gale. "You have NO right. You have no right to talk about my father," I admonished him.

"You don't get to order me around!" He sends a fleeting, powerful kick upon my crouching form. I cry out loudly from the pain, positive he broke several ribs.

At this point in time, there is no doubt that our neighbors can hear everything, but they won't do anything. Domestic abuse is very common and accepted here, in the Seam. Husbands come home from their shitty jobs, take their frustrations out on their wives; unfortunately, wives will then take their hapless lives out on their children. The children will then grow up miserable and the entire cycle will start all over again.

I suppose I shouldn't say that domestic violence is unshared to the Seam. I remember days when some of the merchant children, Peeta in particular, would have bruises covering their bodies. Domestic abuse is rampant in District Twelve.

I collect myself from the kick, and sit my back against a nearby wall. I look up just in time to see Gale coming at me again, this time I plunge my palm into his nose. This makes him curse without abandon, as he holds his nose. The pain is easily read on his face.

Good. I hope it's broken.

He quickly retaliates by grabbing my hair and pushing me face down, on the floor.

"Bitch, I'm going to make sure you regret that… Fucking cunt," He spits at me while he tears the back of my shirt open.

I can't see what he's doing, but then I suddenly feel it. I begin to thrash uncontrollably, which only makes the agent worse, as I feel my skin being severed by a knife.

"S-stop!" I half choked half screamed.

"No. You need to be reminded who's in charge. Every time you fantasize about disobeying me, you just remind yourself about this scar. You should actually thank me, it'll keep you in line," he self-righteously told me.

Pools of hot tears began to collect between the floor and my face. Gale kept slashing away randomly at my back. My mind is in a frenzy, almost overcome by pain. I tried to get up, but he would just press my face harder into the cool, wood floor. I can feel my clothing become laden with wetness, wetness from the blood that flows from me.

Finally, he seemed to have finished. He got off my back and whispered, "Sweet dreams, my love." That's when I felt him lift my head up, and then slam it back into the ground.

Blackness encircles me.

That was very hard to write, but I think it was necessary for the story. When I read the Hunger Games, I thought it was a little unrealistic how only Peeta's mom was mentioned to be abusive. If you think about it, domestic abuse should be very prominent in the Seam, prominent in Panem. Everyone in the districts live suppressed lives, because of the Capitol. So I don't think it should be hard to believe that abuse is a common occurrence. It's sad, but I want to keep this story as realistic as possible. That's another reason why I had Katniss try to fight Gale off, I don't think her personality would allow her to just take his beatings without attempting to fend him off. I'm going to say it right here and now, this story will probably not be a very glamorous story. It will focus on oppression on different levels, and some of the topics will be heavy (and sometimes uncomfortable). I apologize, beforehand, if I offend anyone. Also I have yet to decide if the story will have a happy ending or not. Now on that dark note, I would love to hear some opinions/thoughts about the story, and how you imagine the story going. I read every single review carefully, and try to best apply them to help my story grow.

Thanks for reading,

Sammy