When I roll down from the bunk-bed, making sure not to bang my head on the bunk above me, I am already in a foul mood. Peacekeepers get four hours of sleep, plus one hour of leisure before and after lights out. Most spend this time reading letters from family, sending letters to family, playing pinochle or poker with other peacekeepers,reading, or sleeping in. This is the first of five times of day when Peacekeepers get to unwind, the others being the leisure hour before bedtime and the three lunches. There are television monitors mounted on the walls, the spaces of wall between them filled with posters that remind us of our cause.

As I begin to methodically begin making my bed, An Avox pushes a cart full of envelopes. She softly slips one envelope in the hands of a sleeping peacekeeper two bunks down, then she pulls out another envelope and hands it up to Harod, who sleeps on the top bunk of the same bed. As she begins to walk by my bunk, I ask if I received any mail. She shakes her head apologetically and continues walking. I'm not sure why I'm disappointed, or why I even asked. My mother only sends me mail on once a month, my dad passed many years ago, even before my grandfather did.

While I'm pulling out my personal belongings chest from under the bed, I can hear an excited yell from two bunks down.

"Yay!She said yes!Anna said yes!"

Without pausing or even turning around, I make my reply. "Well, Harod, I presume its official now?"

Harod often talked about how much he loved Anna, and how much he hoped to marry her after his service ended. I have never met her, but from what I hear from Harod she is a nice person and a kindergarten teacher. While active peacekeepers can not get married or have children, retired peacekeepers can and often do. In fact, I would assume that many Peacekeepers have girlfriends or fiancees back home.

He happily answers my redundant question."Damn right its official."

I mutter congratulations while pulling out what I was looking for, a well polished Model 1913-style cavalry saber forged of damascus steel. This sword was forged five years before the Dark days, but it is still in great shape. After pulling out some polish and a rag, I polish the sword, as I do every morning, to keep its condition good. I inherited this beauty from my grandfather, a decorated cavalry peacekeeper during the dark days. While we are discouraged from bringing our own weapons, the dress code clearly states that Peacekeepers are allowed to wear a sword during battle or ceremony if it does not exceed required measurements. This loophole was from the dark days, when most peacekeepers had their own swords and axes and bows to use alongside their guns. This loophole has never been repealed, so I milk it for all its worth by wearing a sword on duty. While this sword can pass as a ceremonial one, I kept it in good enough condition to kill a man, and training with my grandfather insured I know how.

Apparently, I wasn't the only person to hear Harod. The peacekeeper who sleeps in the bunk below Harod was startled by the first shout. "Keep it down, some of us are trying to 'll sleep. You'll wake up the whole base."

Harod called down to him. "Sorry if I woke you Aric, I'm just so happy! She-"

Aric cut him off abruptly, before rolling over to read his own letter. "Alright, just keep in to yourself."

After glancing at his letter, he crumpled it up in a ball and threw it into the isle way with disgust. "At least your fiancée isn't a cheating whore."

Despite not knowing Aric very well, partly because he doesn't like to talk about himself, I felt bad for him. I can at least remember that I'm not the only one with problems.

Do to cruel circumstances, I am now forced to stand guard during the victory speech of the people I hate. I convulse with rage with every word that leaves the mouth of my cousins murderers. The mayor praises Katness and Peeta for killing two of his own subjects, compliments and honors are thrown upon the dream team. It makes me sick.

If I had a grenade, they would both be dead now. I force myself to keep my restraint, I must constantly remind myself that snapping will shame the Hardley family forever. It does not at all lessen my anger, it just contains it. I grit my teeth so hard that I fear them may grind into dust. My fists are clenched so hard that my gloves are the only thing preventing my fingers from digging into my palms. I try to focus on the crowd in front of me, and not my enemy behind me.

I hate her. Cato should be up there, he was the true warrior! Determined, ruthless, and and above all; courageous. Cato was a paragon of the qualities a tribute and a warrior should always embody. He stuck by his allies until the end and only killed those who he could not leave with. He deserved to win, not some lier who tugged the Capitols heartstrings. The crowd is shouting the name Katniss, but in vengeance and anger. I do not know who the anger is pointed at, but I would rather be safe than sorry. Luckily for us, but not for the mob, our guns are loaded.

Hours after the iron doors of the justice building clamp shut, the crowd disperses, one by one. Sooner or later, with cursing and swearing, all of them have left. Headpeacekeeper Gaius Solaris orders that we guard the platform against a deserted district square for the rest of the day until the third meal, I think the precaution is justified considering how rilled up the crowd was. Through the shops, houses, tenants, and alleys, people watch us. They are making observations, of what I do not yet know. Eventually, a fresh group of peacekeepers comes to take our place and we all head to the base for the third meal.

I shove the corn-grub into my mouth as fast as it will fit. I am exhausted. Not physically, mind you. My exhaustion is of a mental kind. I have no objection to killing when necessary, but the waiting is the worst. The calm before the storm makes many wish it would just start.

Jacobine showed earnest interest in where I was. I explained every detail he asked for.

"Where have you been Lyesander? You missed lunch."

"I had to guard the District square afterwards, the higher ups must have wanted to make sure nothing went wrong. But at least I didn't have to eat this pigs fodder."

Jacobine laughed, the asked;"Did you hear about Harod? He's engaged."

"Yes, I heard. But thanks for telling me. I'm not surprised, Anna was all he would talk about. I think this is the third time he asked her, so its good for him that she finally agreed."

Jacobine tried eating some mush, and grimaced. "Yeah, it's good for him. Unlike this mush."

We both continue to eat. Despite my comment, I'm actually hungry enough not to notice the distinct lack of any flavor.

That night during the second leisure hour, Jacobine was gambling on High-Low jacks with four others and winning most of them, I wonder how he got so good at it. Montgomery was reading a biology book, he tried explaining it to me but most of it went over my head; all that stuck was that the writers name was Charles something, and that he did something on a boat. Harod was fast asleep, a brass engagement ring on his finger.

After maintaining my sword for forty minuets, I decided to write to my parents. In my letter, I included several details about district two, as well as basic information as to friends I made here. I made sure to include questions about back home, so she had to answer