I watch stunned, my mouth agape in a silent scream. That blood. Red, flowing thick blood matted in the back of the girl's head. Her father protectively draped over her frail body, in death he is still defending his little girl. Those two single gunshots cause anarchy. District 5's civilians force their way onto the stage, the mayor running past me and behind the protective wall of the peacekeepers that fire machine guns blindly into the mass of people. Cries of agony flood my ears, but the herd of people continue their charge, eventually fighting the peacekeepers guns from their hands. But the crowds not only turn the guns on the peacekeepers but to the doors that shield me. The two peacekeepers that have been standing beside me since I left the stage, lift me from the floor and drag me to the train.

Effie and Haymitch are already settled, Haymitch clutches a bottle with his lips clamped around the top, draining every drop, pushing out all the memories and making sure he doesn't have to remember anything. Effie sits opposite to him, muttering about the dangers of allowing such ill-mannered people to gather in large groups. Steadily I make my way to my room, slam the door, drag the curtains shut, and let the darkness in. The black emptiness conceals my hand from me, it's so easy to hide yourself under a veil of darkness. Lies can web themselves around you so tightly that you can't keep them from penetrating your mind.

Caesar Flickerman's face reflected the devastation in the audience, they all felt cheated. The love story they rooted for with such passion had been stolen from them. In front of the audience was a beautiful girl whose face was a painted picture of joy, love danced in her eyes as she looked on to the empty space next to her. She spoke silent words, her lips mouthing thanks to someone, her hand grasping at the air. Caesar Flickerman couldn't engage with her, sometimes she replied to his questions but her words would be in response to another question. She talked of a boy who saved her, a boy who she 'loves' not 'loved'. The audience was silent, watching the mess that had been created, the Capitol loved their winners but even they admitted this girl hadn't won, that she had lost something worse than the games. It was heartbreaking they said, but still they watched. Abruptly the girl stood smiling, raising her arm to the air and smiling, wildly smiling.

He sat by me and we laughed together, the interview was light and full of jest, Peeta and Caesar were sharing their usual banter and I sat sweetly smiling. The act was on, 'of course the girl from District 12 would never defy the Capitol' my smile said, 'he is the love of my life' said the grip of my hand. But my eyes told the truth, 'I cannot live without him'. I watched the crinkles by his eyes deepen as he looked towards me, the curl of his lip when he saw my smile. 'This is it' I thought, 'this is love'. I joined in the chat again, laughing and chatting like I'd met Peeta at a restaurant, not forged a relationship through the torment of a game of killing. Together we stood with our arms raised to the heavens, the audience applauded as we stood, a united winning front.

The darkness evaporates as light floods from my window, the next station, the next presentation, the next set of lies, four to go. Effie stopped forcing me to breakfast after I smashed sixteen plates against the wall, stabbed two knives into the mahogany table and threw the plum stew onto her dress in one sitting. It was when we left ten, when the bread from twelve ran out. She said to me, 'it's not like he could be the one making it,' so I lost it. Haymitch tried to restrain me but between his drunkenness and my effective placement of a plate to the back of his head, my rage was allowed to continue. I was so afraid she was right, that was the first time it had occurred to me that Snow had the power to kill Peeta, to destroy me.

I go through the motions of the arrival process, the photos, the questions, and the entrance to the stage. I start the speech again, ""Thank you, my thoughts all go to the fallen tributes of your District, and I know your love for them will live on..."

A cry breaks from the crowds of Four, "For Gale." Instantly a banner is unravelled, its message written in crimson red, 'We kill for the one who held up his arms'. As I finish reading the final word, I catch a glimpse of a white peacekeeper gun in the hands of a man in the crowds and for the second day in a row, I hear a gunshot. People say that when you are in danger time goes slowly, but in this moment everything actually speeds up, the pulsing pain in my arm hits me so fast I fall back. Only for a second can I feel the dampness of the blood as it creates a puddle around my wound, overflowing from the flimsy fabric of my shirt. The crowd cheer, celebrating the fall of the mighty. Two wins in consecutive games creates the ultimate Victor to the Capitol, the perfect game piece for Snow, the most hideous enemy to the families. Lying there I felt helpless, empty. Knowing Peeta could be seeing this made it worse. I must look so weak, pathetic. It takes one bullet to strip away all the pretence and show everyone that every tribute is only a child. Every tribute only ever did what they did because they had to. Every tribute can be forgiven once you see their innocence, every single tribute but me.

Peeta lies on the floor of the arena, his eyes open, still with the same expression as when he swallowed the berries, love. It makes me sick, he is dead yet he hasn't lived. I know his body will be taken to our home and buried in a discreet service where no one will mention how avoidable his death was but I just can't accept it. But as I hang from the hovercraft I imagine, just for one second, that he sits up and from nowhere a hovercraft picks him up and that he laughs at how gullible I am. Just for that second I'm happy. I'm still in love with a living man, and I don't want the moment end.

A/N: I'm hoping I've explained this a bit better. I can't believe how long it has been since I last posted but I am going to try and post more. I really like this story but I don't know whether it is coming across as the image I have in my head. Just to clarify, the bold italics is what happened according to Katniss, normal italics is what actually happened (the last paragraph is what actually happened crossed with what Katniss did to her head so I just went for normal italics).