I OWN NOTHING! OKAY SO I HOPE THAT THIS ONE ALSO MAKES SENSE. LEMME KNOW IF ANYTHING IS…WEIRD LIKE YOU COULDN'T UNDERSTAND IT. IT MAKES SENSE TO ME, BUT I'M WRITING IT. THANKS TO ALL THOSE WHO READ AND ESPECIALLY THOSE WHO REVIEW. IT SERIOUSLY MAKES MY DAY WHEN I GET REVIEWS AND YOU'RE ALL SO ENCOURAGING. I'M GLAD YOUR ALL LIKEING THE STORY! HOWEVER, THERE ISN'T MUCH CRITISISM WHERE I KNOW THERE SHOULD BE, SO IF YOU GOT ISSUE WITH SOMETHIN', BE NOT AFRAID TO SPEAK IT! I'M AN OPTIMIST IN THE WORST WAY AND I TAKE CRITISISM VERY WELL. ANYWHO, THIS MESSAGE IS LONG ENOUGH. ENJOY:

It's dark, so very dark here where I am. I don't know how else to describe this abyss. I feel that my eyes are open, but I see nothing, nothing at all. I must be dead, it's the only logical explanation. I suppose you truly can die of a broken heart. Of course, my heart was broken long ago. It's just taken this long for the pieces to be scattered so far by the winds of shame and torment that they can no longer be reassembled. I feel like it should ache somehow, this loneliness, but it doesn't. I feel nothing, and I believe that truth to be far more terrifying than anything that I have both seen and imagined in my life. I fought a seemingly endless battle of wits and strength for my life and the lives of my loved ones twice in an arena and countless times in my every day life as I struggled to be the sole provider for my small family, but none of it compares to the vulnerability and the fear that I now feel. I don't know where I am, what I am doing here or how I got here.

It's obvious that I am in some kind of purgatory. In school we learned about civilizations past where the inhabitants of this nation and others believed in a greater power, shrouded in mystery but omni present. They believed that their various gods watched over them to do them right and harm. Some of them believed that we come here from elsewhere and that we depart to an equally mysterious elsewhere. Our history books described these "elsewhere" as heavens and hells. Heaven was where the good people went and hell for the sinners. I don't know the details about sin and what sin entails, our history books never went into depth on the matter, but I'm pretty positive that killing people for sport and entertainment would have been a sin. So it's settled, if I am in one of those imaginary elsewhere, I must be in hell. Hell is dark, cold, and lonely…

I don't know how much time has past form my last train of thought to this one, but time seems to pass slowly here. Days or mere seconds may have passed, but I drift in and out of consciousness as I float through this empty time and space. It's hard for me to think here, but that makes sense. If I am to truly grasp this concept of heaven, hell and higher beings, then I must try to understand the way it all works. Without thought, there is insanity, and why should a place like hell allow you that simple shred of dignity. Thought, much like my heart, I lost my sanity long before now. Just as this semi-thought echoes in my mind, Peeta's voice sounds out in the darkness, calling my name. For the first time I realize that I am more than consciousness, I am somehow corporeal. My feet tingle as I become aware of them and somehow I am standing in the blackness. My heart pounds heavily in my chest, and I run towards the sound of his voice, but I can see nothing in the darkness and the sound ricochets off of invisible walls, making its origin impossible to detect. He calls out again, this time more softly.

"Please come back…" it says.

And I want to, but I just can't seem to find my way…

Another long stretch of time passes before I can collect myself enough to be aware. I feel something…something wet on my hands. I notice them at my sides and raise them to eye level. My hands shimmer slightly, lightly coated in what appears to be water. The oddness of this occurrence doesn't slip past me, but my ability to concentrate on it does, and in a moment, I am gone again.

And now I'm back, and I have to say that the times in which I am gone seem to be getting longer and longer, making the times that I am absent seem so short and distant—

Back once more, and I hardly even realized I was gone last time. I don't know what happens when I pop out, I am unaware of anything, like I've blacked out. It scares me, but it must be the punishment that whoever the keeper of this hell has found reasonable for my iniquities…

The differences between my presence and lack thereof become more subtle as time wears on, and soon I feel gone all the time. The only difference is that for brief moments, I know I am aware of myself, and then I am not for an extended period.

Something tugs at my awareness, strong and violent. It hurts somehow to acknowledge its presence, but I welcome even the pain in the void that I've been in for what seems like years. Whatever it is, I recognize it, and even as its name is on the tip of my tongue, it pulls harder. A tingling sensation spreads throughout my body, starting in my hands where I am aware of touch, and ending in my toes, like the feeling of blood rushing to give life to my entire being. I expect to have to abandon the welcomed feeling when I pop out again, but I don't leave at all. In fact, this is the longest I have been away in what feels like months. This realization thrills me, and my consciousness is enhanced ten fold. I am suddenly aware that my body is horizontal and not vertical as I had imagined it all this time. The touch in my hands feels like someone is holding them tightly.

Blood pumps in my ears, making my heart beat sound loud and energetic. Heart beat. If my heart is beating, then I must not be dead, which means that I cannot possibly be in my supposed hell, which also means that I still have hope. This thought is exhilarated when I hear his voice again.

"Please Katniss…Come back to me…please…just follow my voice and come back…" he says, and there is so much pain in his voice that I'm sure my face reflects it.

"Katniss? Katniss, did you hear me?!" he asks urgently now. I groan, making my throat hurt as it is the first time I have made a sound in ages.

"Elizabeth! Prim! Come quick, she's made a sound!" he calls out, then,

"Katniss? Katniss, honey, can you hear me? Can you make a sound for me again please?" and he sounds so vulnerable that I can't stand to make him wait. I cough and sputter as I try desperately to remember how to form words.

"Oh! Oh my baby!" a slightly familiar voice screams, and hands come down gently on my face.

"Katniss!" another familiar voice yelps, and a hand grasps my leg near my ankle.

Many other familiar voices seep into my consciousness, but I hear none of them as his beautiful voice whispers in my ear,

"I knew you would find your way…" my savior says, and lips find my forehead.

"Oh Peeta! How…how did you do it? What does it matter, you saved my child! I…our family will forever be in your debt!" a voice I now recognize as my mothers cries, and she pats my hair,

"Katniss, sweetie, its mamma. Can you open your eyes for me? Open your eyes, Katniss. Open your eyes for mamma…" she coos. I am stunned momentarily at hearing his name, because it confirms what I had believed. He really was here, my love returned from the dead. And they could see and hear him too, so he was real and I was not imagining him. This single truth was enough to awaken my body completely, allowing me to open my eyes.

The very first thing I saw was his smiling face, bright blue eyes rimmed with tears, perfect teeth encompassed by perfect lips and his golden hair longer than I've ever seen it. He was a bit bruise and battered, but he was Peeta.

HOPE THAT ALL MADE SENSE AND I HOPE I MADE THOSE OF YOU WHO WERE DESPERATE FOR A LITTLE PEETA HAPPY. I KNEW THAT IF I PUT IT OFF ANY LONGER YALL WOULD SHOW UP AT MY DOOR WITH TORCHES AND PITCH FORKS! PLEASE REVIEW AND CRITIQUE!

~Summer