I'm sorry it was with a 2-day delay, but here's chapter 4 :)

First of all, I owe you an explanation: when I uloaded the last chapter, I forgot to tell you that Cassius is not exactly a new character- if you wish to know more about him, you can read my Cashmere-centered story, Every Rose Has Its Thorn.

I'd also want to say that your feedback is very important to me; it's the only way I have of knowing how you feel about this fic, and whether it's worth it to keep uploading new chapters. So please, if you have anything to say about the story, do not hesitate to add a review!

Now... back to the story! :)

Chapter 4

Serena

"Serena, are you paying attention?"

I give a little jump on my seat and quickly turn my head away from the beach, which I had been observing longingly through the window. Helen- who I have to call Mrs. Clark whenever I'm inside these walls- is staring at me with one hand on her hip and her brows furrowed, and still pointing at the explanation of Ceres's political system she's projecting on the board. The date written above it shows me that the day of the reaping, that changed my life forever, was exactly a month ago.

It has been a week since we arrived here, and even though I'm getting used to the idea of having no family and living with Glimmer- who, I have to hand it to her, is a wonderful roommate; I'm a disaster when it comes to dealing with money, but she knows how to make the best out of the allowance all of the Panem Awakened under the age of eighteen get-, there's still one tiny thing that bothers me, the only one that could be stranger than a welcome party.

I can't believe that after everything, I'm being forced back to school.

"I'm s-sorry," I stammer. "I got distracted for a moment."

"So it would seem." Helen's gaze drifts away from me for a moment, before she eyes me again. "Perhaps we should get you a new seat, away from Marvel."

I cast him a glance- Marvel is distracted as well, his eyes glued to the ceiling- and straighten up on my chair. "It won't happen again," I guarantee, hoping she won't force me to move.

Helen seems convinced, and doesn't elaborate; however, I know I'm lying, and that sooner or later I'll zone out again. I've been having a lot of trouble concentrating lately, and the lack of sleep doesn't help at all- every night I'm assaulted by nightmares, and so is Glimmer. I could hear her crying next door, until one night none of us could take it anymore and she ended up moving her bed to my room. Now she's supposed to wake me up every time she senses I'm having a bad dream, and I do the same- as a result, we both have dark bags under our eyes, but anything is better than hearing that buzz inside my head.

"And so, the members of the Elder Council are voted every five years," Helen is saying cheerfully. "They're the ones who guarantee everything goes according to plan here, and that everything is provided to our new citizens-"

Her voice slowly fades away in my mind, as I take a look around and observe my classmates. We were divided by age, so it consists of only seventeen year-olds: a mix of Awakened from different editions of the Games and kids born in Ceres-like Rufus and Gretchen, who are sick at home-, but all from Panem-born parents. This includes Marvel, Clove, Glimmer, and a couple other tributes I remember seeing in the arena, but as soon as we turn eighteen, we're supposed to get a job- according to Marvel, Cato and Thresh have already started working.

I'm a bit worried that I have to choose a career, but since my birthday is still three months away, that decision can wait. Still, I'm concerned about Marvel- he'll turn eighteen in three weeks, and he doesn't seem very confident. And if Marvel, of all people,doesn't seem confident, then something's wrong.

"Apart from spear-throwing, what can I do?" he blurted out, after we were told we had to choose a profession. Then, realizing what he had said, he added quickly, "I mean, maybe my insanely good looks and hidden talents count for something…"

"Marvel," I said gently, sensing his discomfort. "Didn't your parents have a jewelry store?" He nodded. "Well then, I bet you will give a great jeweler or crafter."

I kissed him on the cheek, but the sorrow in his eyes didn't go away. "I never thought my life would go like this," he confessed.

I sighed. "I never thought I'd end up like this either."

"I was convinced that if I never got the chance to be a tribute, maybe I could be a trainer… but here there are no weapons, so I don't think that's an option."

Actually, I never put much thought into what I would become when I got older. Would I continue fishing and helping my sisters at the market, as always? Would I become a teacher? A crafter?

My meditation is interrupted by the sound of the bell, indicating this class is finally over.

"Don't forget you have your first therapy session this afternoon! See you there!" Helen chirps, before leaving.

"That woman's everywhere," Glimmer complains, after she walks up to my desk. "She's worse than a Capitol escort."

I laugh. "Speaking of which, how's your stalker?" I ask.

"Taylor?" Glimmer wrinkles her nose. "I found out he owns a fabrics shop. The only fabrics shop around. Which means that if I want to start my own clothing line, I will have to pay him some visits."

"I bet he'll love that," I snort. After the party, I didn't see Taylor anymore, but Glimmer guaranteed he's very persistent, and that she more often than not runs into him at the most unexpected places. At least he's apologized for the way he acted.

"Well, I have to go," Glimmer says. "We've run out of milk."

"Don't you want me to go with you?" I ask.

Glimmer gives me her 'big sister' smile. "No. But thanks anyway." She tilts her chin towards the door. "I think someone's waiting."

When I follow her out of the classroom and into the empty corridor, I see that she's right- Marvel is leaning against the wall with the same distant expression he had during History class.

"Hey." I give him a quick kiss, but immediately pull away, when I see that adding to the bags under his eyes- Marvel definitely has nightmares as well- he has a new bruise, this time on his jaw. "What was it this time?" I ask kindly, even though I already know the answer: Cato.

Marvel shrugs. "It was kind of my fault. I decided to tell Cato I was tired of literally cleaning his shit, so he pushed me, saying it was my job… So I punched him."

I flinch, imagining Cato's reaction to that. "You need to control your bad temper," I say softly.

"Me?" Marvel asks, annoyed. "What about him?"

I bite my lip, realizing I said the wrong thing. "He has to control himself." I raise my hand and caress his cheek. "But he's not the one with a new bruise every three days."

"I don't need to be reminded that I'm weaker than him," Marvel mutters darkly.

"You're not weaker than him," I protest.

"Oh yeah?" Marvel lets out a humorless laughter, running his hand through his hair. "He beat Thresh. What did I do? I went insane and killed a defenseless child-"

Without thinking, I take a step forward, wrap my arms around his body and hug him tightly; I should have realized, from the moment I saw the look in his eyes that Marvel is having a bad day, and was just looking for some comfort. But I guess my sleep-deprived brain is a little slow.

"Where did that come from?" he asks, apparently soothed by the sudden contact.

"I figured out I was being a bitch, so this is my way of trying to make up for it," I confess, my words muffled against his chest.

"And I'm the one who's weird?" Marvel asks amusingly.

"Fine, I'm weird too." I look up. "Did it work?"

"If you mean 'do you feel better?', then yes," he replies, kissing my forehead.

I bury my nose in the front of his t-shirt. "Good."

"Maybe Helen is right," Marvel says, as he runs his fingers through my hair. "We do need therapy."

The first thing I see when Marvel and I walk into the large room that has a plaque with the words 'Dr. Smith' over the door is that the balding man- who I suppose is Dr. Smith, our therapist- is not alone. Next to him sit Helen- who as always seems pleased with herself- Silk, and Maysilee. They're holding their clipboards again, and by their faces I would say they would give anything to be somewhere else. They're sitting on a circle of chairs, all of them but two occupied by the other tributes.

"Sorry we're late," Marvel says sheepishly, as every person in the room turns their head to look at us. I can't help but feel as if they're judging me, especially since I'm pretty sure they know why we, out of all people, got held back.

"No problem," Dr. Smith assures us. "Please have a seat," he says indicating the only remaining chairs, on opposite sides of the circle. I sink onto my chair without a word. "Now that everyone's here, shall we begin?" Even though he meets only silence, he goes on. "First of all, I want you to know that whenever you feel the need to speak to someone, I'm available to listen. I also want you to know that the point of these sessions is not making you forget what you've been through- I'm afraid that is impossible, and I will not pretend that it is not."

This catches my attention- Dr. Smith is the first person who is openly honest about the fact that none of us will ever be the same again.

"But," he goes on, "That doesn't mean I won't try to help you, as long as you are okay with that." He scans the room with his intelligent blue eyes that peek out of his gold-rimmed glasses. "The question is: are you okay with that?"

I find myself nodding along with the twenty-one other tributes; even Cato and Clove, who like to act strong and superior to everyone, agree on taking Dr. Smith's help.

Dr. Smith gives us all a fatherly smile. "Great," he says. "You will now be divided into three groups of four and two groups of five." Right away, I look for Glimmer, Marvel, and Rue, the only people with whom I feel relatively comfortable, but Dr. Smith appears to have other plans. "The groups are already made," he announces. "Once you are all divided, each of you will think of a story that has happened to you and share it with your partners. But not any story- it has to be something that makes you smile. This serves to remind you that not everything is bad, and so that you get to know each other a little better."

He then proceeds to call our names, and that's how I end up sitting with Thresh, Ash- the boy from District 7- and Amper, a quiet girl from District 3. As I glance around the room, surveying the other groups, I notice that, unlike whoever assigned our roommates, Dr. Smith was careful not to mix killers with victims- the boy from District 5, Ash's district partner, and the girl from Eight are luckily far away from me-, but he didn't allow us to be with our friends either.

"So… Who goes first?" Ash asks, after an awkward silence. He seems to realize right away that neither I, Amper, nor Thresh are the most talkative of people, so he lets out a resigned sigh. "Alright, then," he says, before beginning to tell us about the tales involving the forest that people in District 7 believe in, and how he and his friends once snuck out at night so they could find out if they were true, and ended up going home with their clothes stinking due to an unfortunate encounter with a weasel.

As Ash's story is met with quiet laughter, I start thinking about what I should tell them. I have so many stories that I could share- about my sisters, Grandma, Sally, Finnick, or Annie, but I feel like they're all too personal. Although that's probably the point… Dr. Smith just wants us to forget that we were once enemies, and even though it seems impossible now, I'm pretty sure that someday we'll get along.

"Who's next?" Ash asks, as soon as he finishes his story. His eyes fall on me. "How about you, little girl?"

I get up abruptly, feeling annoyed that his slightly scornful words have touched my sensitive Career nerve- my friends are the only ones allowed to point out how small I am. "Well, I…" my voice trails off when I realize I still haven't chosen a story to tell. I quickly search through my mind, and finally decide on one that is not as personal as the others, since there were so many people around when it happened.

However, no words come out once I open my mouth to speak. How I managed to go through my interview with Caesar Flickerman is a mystery.

Pretend you're talking to Marvel.

I clear my throat, before pulling my necklace out of my blouse. "This is my token," I announce, trying to ignore how stupid I sound. "I've had it since the day I learned to swim." I take a deep breath, and begin my story. "When I was four, I was terrified of going in the ocean; I would never let the water reach above my knee-height, which considering I was a really small child, wasn't very far." I don't tell them that the reason I was scared of the waves was because I was afraid I would drown like my parents and my grandfather.

"But one day, Finnick decided I should learn how to swim, since we lived in District 4. So he went to my grandmother, who had just finished making a new necklace, and she struck a deal with me: if I let Finnick and Annie teach me how to swim, she would give it to me. Although I was still frightened, my love for shiny stuff was stronger." Amper chuckles at my words, and that encourages me to go on. "I agreed, and by the end of the day I wasn't afraid anymore, thanks to them." I smile at the memory of a ten-year-old Finnick and a seven-year-old Annie splashing in the water- much to the annoyance of the fishermen around us-, so far from the heartthrob and the mad girl the Capitol makes them to be. "My grandmother gave me the necklace, and I felt like I had just won a gold medal. I haven't taken it off ever since." I purse my lips and sit down again, indicating I'm finished.

Surprisingly, Amper volunteers to go next; she tells us about her struggle not to be called 'Amber', how no matter how much she tried, people always mixed the letters in her name. "So one day," she says with a playful gleam in her eyes, "I went around wearing a t-shirt that said My name is NOT Amber. It confused everyone, but surprisingly it worked."

Thresh, reserved as always, chooses a story about his grandmother too- I can spot a slight smile upon his lips as he informs us that she is the toughest woman he has ever known, that even earned the Peacekeeper's respect, and how that's why he isn't worried about his sister. "I know they can take care of themselves," he says proudly. "Better than I can, that's for sure."

Once he finishes, I'm happy to realize I managed to pay attention to all three stories, and that they actually helped me see that there's always a good side, and that perhaps… just perhaps, things will turn out fine.

Marvel

"Everything going okay?"

My aunt stares down at my group with a playful smile, just as Fuller, the boy from District 8, finishes his story; she's holding her clipboard and a pen, apparently having wandered around the room taking notes while we were distracted.

"Everything's going wonderful," Tamara, a ridiculously communicative girl from Seven, replies for the whole group. "Marvel was just about to tell us his story," she adds, with a flirtatious smile, that I don't return. If she doesn't want to catch a glimpse of Serena's bad side again- I know she has one, I've seen it-, Tamara won't insist; not to mention I have zero interest in her.

"Really?" My aunt's smile widens, as her gaze falls on me. "Do you mind if I stay and listen to it?"

I shrug, before casually leaning back on my chair. "Not at all." I scan my small audience- my aunt, Tamara, Fuller, and Robin- and try not to laugh at what I'm about to tell them. "As some of you may know- or probably not-, I have a little sister named Crystal… Although she acts more as my brother." I raise my left hand, the one that has the bracelet my sister gave me- likely the only one she owned – and absent-mindedly rub my neck. "When Crystal was nine, my mother started getting worried that she was too much of a tomboy- the way some mothers do, you know?" I pause, and notice that my aunt is giving me a motherly smile again.

As for Robin, she's staring at me without even blinking- creepy as hell-, probably trying to absorb as much information about me as she can; I can't help but remember that her story was somewhat vague, and didn't even happen to her. It was an embarrassing episode she witnessed on the street, or something like that.

"So in order to try and get Crystal to be more feminine, my mother signed her up for ballet lessons." I nearly start laughing at this point. "It didn't go too well. She screamed, kicked, but she had to go anyway, at least until the big recital three months later. The problem was," This time I'm not able to contain myself. "Her ballet recital was on the same day as evaluation at the Training Club, only the recital ended five minutes before the evaluation started. And since she couldn't skip either… She went to the Training Club still wearing her tutu and ballet shoes. Now imagine a little pink ballerina spinning around with a sword." Even though I'm pretty sure they are against the idea of a Training Club and nine-year-old girls wielding swords- isn't that why Careers are hated?-, my group laughs along with me.

"But Crystal carried on until the end, and didn't even blink when the trainer that handed her the diploma practically fell down with laughter. The best part is," I smirk, "I got everything on tape." I glance around once more. "The end."

My aunt claps slowly. "Wonderful story," she praises, with a mix of amusement and sarcasm.

"Thank you," I reply.

She turns to the others around me. "Is everyone finished?"

"Yeah," Tamara answers once again. "Marvel was the last one."

My aunt nods. "Then you may go now." Fuller, Robin, and Tamara get up, looking relieved, and I motion to do the same, but my aunt stops me. "Maybe this is a little inconvenient," she whispers, "But the rest of my family wants to meet you too. Would you like to join us for dinner tonight?"

I scratch my chin, thinking about my possibilities. I confess I'm kind of curious, now that I've spent some time with Rufus and Gretchen, about the rest of their family. Besides, tonight it's Cato's turn to cook…

"Sure," I reply. "But… weren't Rufus and Gretchen sick?"

My aunt waves her hand dismissingly, but I can tell she's concerned. "All my children get sick very often," she informs, her shoulders dropping a little. "But now the twins are better, and they're in that phase where they start getting bored because they've been home for too long, so they are looking forward to your visit."

"That convinces me, then," I say cheerfully.

"Great! Eight o'clock?"

"Sounds good to me." I stare at my aunt for a moment, as she looks at something behind me- I glance over my shoulder, and find Serena a little far away, apparently studying a poster Dr. Smith has on his wall; but I know she's waiting for me, while trying to go unnoticed. "I, uh… I have to go," I say, without tearing my gaze from Serena. It's unbelievable how I always seem unable to take my eyes off her.

My aunt pats me on the back. "Don't keep her waiting," she says playfully. "See you later." She waves at me and leaves the room, after shooting Serena an amused look.

I quietly walk up to Serena and fling my arms around her waist, startling her. "Missed me much?" I ask teasingly.

She turns around, her face adorably red. "I-I was just… I was reading this," she stammers, pointing at the poster.

"Sure you were." I gently poke the tip of Serena's nose, before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "So, how did it go?" I ask, as we walk out of the room.

"Better than I thought," she answers cheerfully. "Thresh is actually very nice, once you get to know him-"

"Should I get worried?" I ask, pulling her closer.

Serena chuckles and rests her head on my arm. "No… In fact, Glimmer put me in charge of gathering information about him. Something about Gretchen having asked for it."

"Please tell me my cousin isn't interested in my roommate," I groan.

"What's the problem?" Serena asks amusingly.

"It's… I don't know. Never mind." I look down, into the dark eyes I love so much, before blurting out, "My aunt invited me over for dinner."

"That's marvelous," Serena says with a wide smile. However, I notice a hint of sorrow in her expression, and I know she's thinking of her family.

"Would you stop making puns with my name?" I ask with feigned annoyance, changing the subject. "First Marvy-Boy, now this…"

Serena laughs, squeezing my arm jokingly. "Never."

I'm at my aunt's doorstep right on schedule, observing her well-tended garden with interest as I wait for someone to open the door. Since the house isn't very far from my apartment- in fact, all of the Awakened seem to live near each other-, I walked here, and seeing as I had more than enough time to think about the matter, I now feel completely comfortable with meeting my two other cousins and my uncle.

Besides, since when does Marvel Gould get nervous about anything? I'm supposed to be the laid-back one, so I can balance out Serena's panicky nature- we would make quite a pair, if both of us were constantly freaking out.

Just as I'm smirking to myself, remembering some of the occasions I saw her nearly go hysterics, the front door opens to reveal a woman, not much older than me, perhaps in her early twenties. With green eyes and nearly as tall as me, she's the spitting image of my aunt- except for the fact that her blonde hair is curly-, so I suppose this is the other daughter she mentioned.

"Hi!" I say, taking my hand from my pocket and holding it out so she can take it.

"So you're Marvel." The woman smiles, causing the dimples that are characteristic of my family to appear on the corners of her mouth. "I'm Rita."

"It's really nice to meet you," I say sincerely- at least she isn't making fun of me like her mother and brother, or hiding in a corner, like her sister.

"Please, come in," Rita invites, stepping aside so I can pass through the door.

I find myself in a house slightly similar to the one I grew up in- the kind of house the middle class in District 1 could afford-, with the walls covered with family portraits and the vaguely worn-out wooden floor and furniture accusing the presence of a fair amount of children.

Rita leads me to the living room, where the rest of her family is gathered. My aunt gets up from the couch so she can greet me, followed by a red-haired man and a freckled boy with hair just as red as his.

"Great meeting you, son," my uncle says gravely, shaking my hand in an iron grip; despite being middle-aged, it is still possible to tell he was once as bulky as Cato or Thresh. "I'll spare you the Awakened greeting. I'm Nero." He seems to struggle for a moment and adds, "District 2."

My youngest cousin looks up at me and shakes my hand as well in an attitude similar to his father's, probably trying to cover up the fact that he isn't a day over twelve years old. "I'm Andrew," he says in a tentatively deep voice. I try not to laugh at his seriousness. "But you can call me Drew."

"Little Andy there has been nagging us all afternoon, asking when cousin Marvel would come," Rufus's visibly weakened yet scornful voice accuses from the couch. "You better watch out or he might steal your used napkin!"

Rita rolls her eyes. "Ignore him," she advises. "Rufus gets kinda cranky when he's sick."

"So it would seem," I say, amused, before approaching Gretchen and Rufus, who were out of my sight until now; however, as soon as I lay eyes on them, I widen my eyes in shock- Rufus, who is always talking loud and whose cockiness rivals with mine, has been reduced to a pale figure wrapped in a blanket and topped with lifeless red hair; as for Gretchen, she's even more unnoticeable than usual, and the fact that the couch is the same color as her blanket only helps to her almost perfect camouflage.

"Holy crap, what happened to you two?" I ask, horrified.

"Welcome to our life," Rufus coughs.

"I told you… My children have a fragile health," my aunt explains. "We're lucky this time the four of them didn't fall sick at the same time."

"We're lucky, my ass," Rufus grumbles, earning a furious glance from his mother. "This sucks."

"I thought you were feeling better," I say, still feeling a little uneasy at the fact that they both seem about to collapse.

"We are," Gretchen whispers. "We're not even taking the medicine anymore. Rufus just likes being treated like the crybaby he is."

"I heard that!" he exclaims, as everyone in the room bursts out laughing. Gretchen smiles: it appears that once she's in her house she loses her shyness- and according to Glimmer and Serena she never stops talking when she's with them, which means that Gretchen finally has friends.

"Dinner's ready," Rita calls from the dining room. I help Gretchen get up and follow the rest of the family to the table, while Rufus keeps complaining about how unfair life is under his breath. My uncle indicates my seat, between him and Andrew, and I sit down in front of a meat loaf that has my mouth watering, especially when I think about the awful meal Cato has probably prepared.

Not that I have any right to complain- Thresh is the only one who can cook decently.

"So…" my uncle starts, after some moments in which we all appreciate the delicious food in silence. "What was your weapon of choice?"

I almost choke on a piece of meat, and Andrew has to very helpfully pat my back.

"Nero!" my aunt scolds. "I thought we had agreed we wouldn't talk about it!"

"I know, but… come on!" Although he looks a little sheepish, my uncle punches my arm playfully, just like my father used to do. "Look at him! A Career, from head to toe!" He turns to me and lowers his voice. "Sorry. I'm just a little curious."

"It's okay," I say, between coughs, before recomposing myself and smiling proudly. "Spears. What about you?"

My uncle nods approvingly. "Good choice," he praises. "I used a saber, but I didn't say no to a bow either."

From the corner of my eye, I can see my aunt shaking her head and mouthing 'Men'. Ha! As if she didn't try to rip out Haymitch Abernathy's internal organs back in the day. Gretchen and Rita cover their mouths and try not to laugh out loud, but I notice Rufus and Andrew are listening to my conversation with their father with close attention.

I wonder what it's like for them- to have Careers that were in the arena for parents, but growing up in a world with no Hunger Games. No exhausting training days, no special diet to gain muscle, no reaping, just... I don't even know how they spend their time.

"I'm not really into archery," I say jokingly, even though it's nothing to joke about and I end up sounding slightly bitter. My uncle seems to realize this, especially after his wife gives him 'the evil eye', since he drops the subject and keeps eating.

"What's it like?" Andrew asks in a low voice. "In the arena?"

"Andrew!" This time my uncle's the one to get angry. "What did I say-"

"Well, Dad, you can't blame him," Rufus interrupts. "You never talk about it."

"We never talk about it for a good reason," my aunt cuts in. "Now finish your food."

The rest of the meal is spent making small talk- I'm asked about the rest of the family, school, and occasionally there are some not-so-subtle attempts at making me talk about Serena, but my answers consist essentially of yes or no.

After dinner, I volunteer to help my uncle do the dishes, and even though he's reluctant at first- "You're our guest," he says- we end up in the kitchen, rubbing pieces of meat loaf from a plate.

Suddenly, my uncle turns off the water and leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. "They were that bad, uh?" he asks quietly. "The Games."

I stare at him, eyebrows raised. "Aren't they always?"

"I suppose." He unfolds his arms and picks up a piece of cloth, so he can wipe a dish. "The bloodbathers- you're familiar with the term, aren't you?" I shake my head, but he goes on. "Anyway, the ones who die in the bloodbaths usually don't complain that much. It ended fast for them. But I guess you didn't get that scar in the bloodbath, did you?" he asks, pointing at my neck.

I let out a humorless laughter. "No," I reply. "I'm a… Career from head to toe, right? I lasted a little more than most of the other tributes."

My uncle nods, and suddenly I get the feeling I will not enjoy this conversation. "Did that girl you refuse to talk about last more than you?"

I stiffen. "No. She didn't," I answer harshly. I don't tell him that I see Serena die every night, when I'm asleep; it doesn't matter that we were revived, I still saw life fading from her eyes and felt her dying breath on my lips, all thanks to me and my stupidity. And that's something that will never go away.

My uncle cringes. "I know we just met, but do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." I sigh heavily and run a hand through my hair. "Do you want to talk about your Games?"

My uncle laughs heartily at my comeback. "There's not much to say," he begins lightly. "I had a psychotic district partner that scared the crap out of me because she ripped a throat open with her teeth… Actually I shouldn't complain, since I volunteered even though I knew what awaited me. But the thing is," This time he looks at me with a serious expression. "After a while, I figured it wasn't worth it. The training, the volunteering… it just isn't."

I crack up a half-smile, knowing perfectly what he means.

It was never worth it.

Serena

I lie on my side, trying to sleep, as the bloodbath makes its way through my shut eyelids, its colors and details more vivid than usual. I make an attempt at following Dr. Smith's advice and try to focus on the happy stories I heard today- Thresh's grandmother, who I for some reason picture as looking like my own, tree spirits, a homemade t-shirt- but instead they just remind me of how human the other tributes are… And of how I am little more than an animal.

I see the boy from District 5, my hand stretched out so I can pull his head back and have an easier access at his throat. He struggles, he cries for a second, and then it's over. The girl from District 7 comes next- she killed David, she's trying to kill me, but I'm faster and soon the blood is spilling out of her stomach, only because of a simple thrust of my arm. Finally, the girl that fell asleep next to the campfire starts screaming; I'm not able to take it anymore, and I roll on my stomach, muffling a whimper as I bite into my pillow.

I'm a monster. I hurt them, and I don't even know their names.

I'm pretty sure they had happy stories too.

"Serena?"

I open my eyes and slowly turn my head to find Glimmer peeking through the door, a thin line of light spreading through the floor; she called me in a hushed voice, but I'm still glad she did it.

"Hm?" I grumble sleepily, as I realize I dug my nails in my palms.

"Marvel is here," she says, sounding as tired as me. Glimmer has decided she wants to open a clothes store, and she's been working non-stop on her creations, so they can be ready as soon as she turns eighteen. But I can tell she's also doing it to escape the nightmares. "I told him you had gone to bed, but that I would check if you were asleep anyway…"

"Thanks," I say, rubbing my eyes and sitting up on the bed. "I'll go right away."

Glimmer's shadow disappears from the doorframe just as I get on my feet and groggily make my way towards the hall: I don't come across her, so I suppose she's returned to the room she left empty and is now working as her studio.

Marvel is sitting on the couch with his fingers crossed on his lap, and nervously tapping his feet on the floor, as if he's not sure he should be here; he's not exactly dressed up, but I can tell he just came back from his family dinner. However, I don't mind the fact that I'm wearing nothing but a nightgown and underwear, and that I've braided the hair on both sides of my face in order to keep it from tangling- we've seen each other at our worst, and that includes us being covered in blood and dirt.

As soon as Marvel sees me, he gets up. I don't give him time to say anything, and just fling myself into his arms, pressing my nose against his neck and inhaling his smell- being this close to Marvel helps the images go away, and it just feels so good and safe…

"Bad dream?" he asks softly, as he caresses my back. I nod, and clutch the front of his shirt tighter. "Sorry for waking you."

I pull away just a little bit, and smile weakly. "No, it's okay. I wasn't exactly asleep. And I'm glad you came." I study his face for a second, trying to find out what led him to drop by. "How was dinner?" I ask.

"Well enough," Marvel replies, a bit absent-mindedly. "My aunt's family is nice, but they ask too many questions."

I frown. "Is that bad?"

I'm happy that Marvel has found his aunt, I truly am- especially since I know he had issues at home-, but there's still a little drop of jealousy I can't seem to make go away no matter what. I just hope it doesn't show.

"Yeah." Marvel rolls his eyes, trying to look relaxed, but I can tell he's troubled. "They kept trying to make me talk about the Games… and you."

"They're just trying to get to know you better," I chuckle. "And I'll meet them, sooner or later. I'm friends with Gretchen, remember?"

"I know." Marvel runs his hand through his hair and doesn't say anything else.

"So," I start, after some seconds of silence, in which Marvel looks down at me but seems to have his mind stuck somewhere else. "What brings you here?"

"Oh." Marvel blinks, as if he's being brought back to reality. "I just wanted to see you for a second before I went to bed."

"You can't go five minutes without me, can you?" I mock in a deep voice.

"Is that supposed to be me?" Marvel asks amusingly.

I give him an innocent smile. "Yes."

"I sound nothing like that." Marvel leans over and plants a tender kiss on my lips, before resting his forehead against mine. "I think I'll go now. Do you need me to tuck you in, Baby-face?" I shoot him a dirty look; Marvel knows how I hate it when he decides to act like everyone else and treat me like a child. "Just kidding. See you tomorrow?" he asks, caressing my cheek.

I feel my expression soften. "Sure."

"Marvelous." He gives me another quick kiss before pulling away and heading to the door. Marvel stops and turns around just as he's leaving. "I love you."

I beam, suddenly feeling like I may actually escape the nightmares tonight. "I love you too."

But when I see Marvel disappear towards the elevator, I can't help but feel there's still something wrong with him- something I don't think he wants to tell me, at least for now.