Hi guys!

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I really appreciate your comments. It can be so easy to just read through an entire story and not send your thoughts to the author (I know, I've done it), so thank you so taking the time to write such lovely things.

You may have noticed that the synopsis for this story has changed. I think it reflects the theme of the story a little better. Hope you'll agree.

Please enjoy Chapter 3!

I do not own the Hunger Games.

I know that something is wrong when my hand reaches for the brass door knob. It feels like my heart is in my mouth and the room suddenly shrinks around me. I tumble backwards and land at the bottom of the staircase. There's a ringing in my ears and for a moment I think I might pass out. My breath is coming out so short and fast it hurts my chest.

I think of the ridiculousness of the situation. I have survived two hunger games and a war and now I'm about to be done in by something as ordinary as a heart attack.

Panic sets in. I need to call for help. Standing on shaky legs I stagger into the formal sitting room, leaning on the furniture for support. I reach the phone just as my legs give way beneath me. My fingers hover over the buttons. Who can I call? At this time of day Greasy Sae will be selling in the market place. Haymitch will be drunk.

My subconscious recalls a number I haven't dialled in months. I press the buttons and hold the phone to my ear. It rings. Someone answers.

"Hello?"

"Peeta. Help."

I'm unsure if I actually do pass out or if Peeta moves at superhuman speed because it feels like only seconds have past before I hear him in the hallway.

"Katniss?" He calls out.

He finds me on the floor in the living room. He crashes to his knees beside me and I watch his eyes scan me for injury. He looks fearful.

"Katniss, what's wrong?"

I claw at my chest. "I can't….I can't breath."

Some of the fear dissolves from his eyes. He takes hold of my hands and couches in front of me.

"Look at me, Katniss," He demands. I try to focus my eyes on him but there's a blackness creeping into my vision.

"You need to control your breathing," He tells me. "It's too fast."

He instructs me to take deep breaths through my nose and blow out slowly through my mouth. Each time I inhale he presses his thumbs into the palms of my hands and then releases them when I exhale. He utters soft words of encouragement and slowly I feel my heartbeat start to return to normal.

Peeta pulls me to my feet and helps me to the sofa. In an instant I burst into tears. It's so sudden I surprise myself and try to hide my face in my hands out of embarrassment.

"Katniss, it's ok," Peeta says softly, pulling me to his chest. "You're ok now. It was an anxiety attack but it's over now."

My sobs subside to hiccups but I remain awkwardly pressed against Peeta's chest. His hands move in soft circles on my back but he stops suddenly. As I sit up I expect to see a faint flush in his cheeks but instead his brows are knit together. The sofa shifts when he stands abruptly.

"Dr Aurelius can prescribe something to help control the attacks. You should call him." His voice seems void of emotion and he turns to leave.

"Peeta," I whisper.

He freezes in the doorway, shoulders tensed. "I left something in the oven. I have to go." And with that he's gone.

Later that day I call Dr Aurelius like Peeta suggested.

"It came out of nowhere, doc!" I tell him. "One minute I was fine, the next I thought I was going to die."

"Fear and anxiety is different for each individual," Dr Aurelius explains. "You could be a lion tamer but still have a fear of spiders."

"Yeah and I'm the Mockingjay but I'm afraid to leave my house." I laugh bitterly. "This didn't happen when I went out hunting the other week. Why now?"

"I never said it was rational," Aurelius replies. "I'll prescribe some anti-anxiety medication and have it sent on the next train. It may take several weeks before you feel it working."

I fiddle with the phone cord as I listen to Dr Aurelius scribbling notes. "I had an idea," I blurt out. The scribbling stops.

"I want to make a memory book," I explain. "A book where I can keep a record of things I'm frightened I'll forget. I could put them all in there, Finnick, Boggs…Prim."

"I think that is a wonderful idea, Katniss," Aurelius replies.

When Greasy Sae arrives the next morning she drops a large package in front of me. Inside is a 6 months supply of medication along with a something wrapped in brown paper. I tear it open to reveal an A4 leather-bound book and a note.

May their memories live on through the pages of this book. – Dr. A

Peeta doesn't show up for breakfast. I know it probably has something to do with what happened yesterday but I refuse to let it bother me. When Sae is done with the dishes I sheepishly ask if I can walk with her out of the house. She raises an eyebrow curiously but asks nothing. She opens the front door and gestures for me to go first. I eye the threshold nervously and start the breathing technique Peeta taught me.

Breathe in through the nose, blow out through the mouth. In, out. In, out.

I take a tentative step forward, then another until I'm standing in the middle of the front porch. Sae pats me on the shoulder and smiles as she hobbles down the steps and across the green of Victors Village. I watch her until she disappears through the gate.

Victors Village is laid out with twelve grey stone houses facing a landscaped green. Six on one side and six on the other. All identical, but one. Haymitch's house, with its brown patchy front lawn and litter-strew porch stands out from the rest. I take a deep breath before striding across the green. The rotten garbage wreaks and I fight down the bile rising in my throat as I step over a dead mouse on the porch. Using my fist I pound loudly on the front door. When no response comes I test the handle and find the door unlocked. The smell is so much worse inside. Empty bottles lie on the floor in every room. I step carefully so as not to trip, or wake the sleeping drunk. I cover my nose with my sleeve and peer cautiously into the kitchen. Every counter is covered with half empty glasses and used plates. Some are dotted with green spots of mould.

I'm alerted by a groan coming from another room. It doesn't take me long to find Haymitch slumped in a chair by the fireplace in the study. His shirt is stained, probably with his own vomit, and he's unshaven. His hair is longer than ever before. He's a mess.

"Visiting hours are between five and six," he slurs, catching me off guard.

"I'm not here for a social," I say, eying the stack of paperwork on the desk that has been pushed to one side of the room.

"Well you haven't changed one bit, have you sweetheart," he mocks.

"Neither have you," I bite back as he swigs from a bottle of liquor. "When was the last time you took a bath?"

He looks me up and down and smirks. "I could ask you the same question."

I blush beet red and turn away.

"Heard you'd gone crazy," He sniggers. "Sat in the same chair day in, day out, not eating, not bathing…"

I clench my fists. "Yeah well I'm better now. Thanks for checking up on me. Listen Haymitch," I say, changing the subject abruptly. "I want the telephone number for hospital in 4. I know my mom gave it to you."

Haymitch scratches his beard like he's pretending to think deeply. "Hmmm, yeah…now if only I could remember…"

I huff in aggravation and turn to leave. "Look, just…give it to me when you remember where it is, ok?"

"Same old Katniss," he mutters. "No chit-chat, strictly business. You got somewhere important to be?"

I hesitate in the doorway.

"Didn't think so," he says. "Stay and have a drink with your old mentor."

My shoulders slump and I roll my eyes before taking the seat across from him. He offers me the liquor bottle but I turn up my nose. It smells like cleaning chemicals.

"How about some bread then?" He asks, pointing to the half-eating fruit loaf on the desk. I hadn't noticed it earlier.

"Peeta's been here," I say. It's not a question. I know he's been visiting Haymitch.

"Boy comes twice a week with a fruit loaf the size of my arm," Haymitch replies, holding his arm up to demonstrate.

"He's a good person," I say absentmindedly, staring at the floor.

"A hell of a lot nicer than you," Haymitch adds.

Neither of us speaks again for what feels like a really long time, the only sound coming from the moving hands of the clock sat on the mantle piece. It's Haymitch that breaks the silence.

"You're a good person too sweetheart," he says softly. "You just have some…personality issues."

I smile and look up at him. "Just not as good as Peeta, eh?"

I'm surprised when Haymitch frowns and leans forward in his chair. I worry that he might fall out of it.

"I take back what I said," he tells me seriously and I raise my eyebrow in confusion. "About you not deserving Peeta. I take it back."

I scoff in embarrassment. "You were right, though. I didn't deserve him." I fidget uncomfortably. "But it's not like that any more though so…. It doesn't matter anyway."

"Don't push him away again, Katniss," He urges. "He may be damaged after what the Capitol did to him but I can assure you he still feels for you!"

I push myself out of the chair, anger rising from some unknown place within me. "You don't know what you're talking about," I hiss.

"It's ok to be scared, Katniss," he says.

"I'm not scared!" I yell, panting with rage. "Things happened. I can't….things can't go back to the way they were. We're different. We're….not good for each other."

Haymitch sits back in his chair and takes another swig from his bottle. "Same old Katniss," he says for the second time. "Can't see what's right in front of her."

I turn and run, trying to block out the sound of Haymitch laughing. I sprint across the green and burst into my own house, slamming the front door loudly. I'm angry but I don't understand why. In frustration I grab a glass vase from the windowsill and throw it to the ground. It shatters into a million tiny pieces. I consider leaving the mess for Sae to clean up but then I think of Buttercup getting glass in his paws and it makes me think twice. I've gone soft for that mangy cat. I sweep the glass fragments into a dustpan and empty it into the bin. The anger has drained from me, leaving me exhausted. It's barely past midday but I find myself climbing into bed. Buttercup, who had previously been lying in the warm sunshine by the window, now jumps onto the bed and curls up next to me. I run my fingers through his fur, my mind helplessly mulling over what Haymitch had said. I dread the nightmares that await me tonight.

So, this one was a little shorter than previous chapters but hopefully it was just as enjoyable to read.

The technique Peeta used to help Katniss through her anxiety attack is actually the same method I used when I was suffering from anxiety.

Anxiety attacks can feel like a heart attack if you've never experienced one before. They can be extremely frightening but they usually only last 10 minutes (maybe longer in some cases). They can happen suddenly and it may seem there is no logical explanation for them. Unfortunately that's the way anxiety works.

Anyway, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter. Please review! :)