Chapter 8

I sit up, consumed by my own fear for Katniss. "What have they done to her?" Finnick voices my thoughts aloud, like he could hear it.

She's at least fifteen pounds thinner, and the bags under her eyes are more visible than the layer upon layer of makeup caked onto her face. I notice that some new scars are peeking through the full-body polish they gave her. I wonder if Octavia and Venia and Flavius did that.

"So… Katniss, I keep thinking I'll do my last interview with you, but you always come back to me," Caesar chuckles, although it's not funny.

"I know, Caesar. It's harder every time," she says, her voice strained.

"So Katniss, we would like you to speak on the rumors that Peeta Mellark is filming propaganda for the rebels. Would you to say anything?"

She seems to flinch at the mention of my name. She seems to be trying to figure out what to say, when Caesar says: "How about we show the footage while you figure out what you'd like to say, shall we?" Caesar waves to off-stage, and the footage shows up on the screen.

They left out the speech, inside the hospital, but are very heavy on the explosions. I see myself being blown into the wall, and then collapsing in front of the burning warehouse. I see Gale being hit with a bullet in his leg by a capitol hovercraft that he was shooting at. It ends with footage of me collapsing again.

"I think… I think he's getting what he deserves," Katniss says.

"Mm-hmm," Caesar says.

"It's what a mutt- I mean person like him should get. It's what a person so evil and vile should get in return for their actions," she stammers.

"Ahh, I see."

"The rebels need to stop this, Caesar. It's getting out of hand. What do you think will come out of this? That, what? Some decent species will inherit the smoking remains of the earth?" she asks.

"I'm not sure I'm following…" Caesar says.

"Think about it, Peeta," I realize she's talking to me now. "If you have any control about this, urge them to stop, please. And ask yourself, do you really know the true intentions of the rebels? If you don't, find out," she says.

"Alright, Katniss, I think that's all the time we have," Caesar nods to someone off stage.

"Stop this! Stop it before we are all killed! Please, I beg of you!" Katniss shouts as she's taken away. I hear a faint scream as the camera fades to black.

"We didn't see it," Finnick says. I want to tell him that it didn't work last time, and won't work now.

I shake my head. "No," I rasp. My throat feels like it's lit on fire.

"Peeta, are you ok? Should I call your doctor?" Finnick asks, looking into my eyes. I shake my head again.

Suddenly, I start coughing. Uncontrollably. "I'm gonna get the doctor," Finnick leaves.

When Dr. Callaydus comes, I'm still coughing. I'm not choking, I'm still breathing, but I can't stop.

Moments later, I barf on the floor. It's just bile, but disgusting none the less. I start trembling, all over. Dr. Callaydus calls the head doctor, and he explains it in one word.

"Terror. Shock. Grief," he says.

"How do we stop it?" Dr. Callaydus asks as I barf again.

"We can't. It will stop on its own," he replies solemnly.

I stop coughing a little while later, but continue trembling. Dr. Callaydus asks Finnick some questions. "Were you watching anything worth noting?"

I look at him, but I can't control myself. "Yeah, we saw an interview with Katniss," he replies.

"Oh, that explains that. But it will pass."

"That's good," Finnick says. "Of course," Dr. Callaydus says.

"Mm-hmm."

I barf for a third time, and both Dr. Callaydus and Finnick turn to me. I tremble harder, so hard I can't keep myself upright. I sink back into the pillows, and almost pass out. But I'm determined to stay awake. "Peeta, should we put you to sleep?" Dr. Callaydus asks. I shake my head, but I don't think she can tell.

"I'm going to do it," she says, inserting a needle into my arm. I black out, sinking into oblivion.

"Good morning, Peeta," Dr. Callaydus says.

My trembling has gone down, and I feel much better. "How are you feeling?" Dr. Callaydus asks.

"Much better," I reply.

"Then you should be able to leave today. Besides, you're needed in Command."

Great. Another day of Coin being mad at me for doing something else. Then all sorts of other people being mad, too.

Dr. Callaydus checks my wounds from 8, and tells me I can leave. She checks me out of the hospital, and I enter my compartment.

I sit on my bed, then remember Dr. Callaydus said I was needed in Command. I've never really been the sarcastic type, but I can't help it when it comes to Command.

"Hello Peeta," Plutarch says. "Glad to have you join us."

I nod and sit in a chair. As always, Coin gets start to the point. "We understand that you were attacked during your visit to District 8. We all knew the risks of this escapade, and you could have died."

I don't know why she's telling me this. I was fully aware that I could have died.

"I know you were injured, but we have more to ask of you," Great. I'm so lucky. See, sarcasm.

"And that is…?" I say.

"We need some more footage, so we're going to send you to District 12 with Soldier Hawthorne and Soldier Odair."

Hooray. Damn, I really am sarcastic.

"Alright, let's go to District 12!" Finnick says jokingly. I don't understand why he's joking about it, but then I realize his district wasn't burned to the ground, all his friends and family burned to death.

Even though I was here only a couple of weeks ago, I'm still not ready for what I see. Every time, it's harder to look at the places where I used to live, where I used to laugh.

As I walk toward the bakery, I remember something I wanted to forget. Another time my mother beat me. This time, it was with a rolling pin. I was only five years old, and I was just starting to decorate the cakes.

"What is it?" My mother had asked.

"Fishys!" I exclaimed.

"A squirrel could do better," she scoffed.

"I thought it was good," I said sadly.

"No, Peeta. It's ugly, very, very ugly."

She turned around and removed a rolling pin from a drawer, and brandished it at me.

I cowered in the corner, and she started to hit me with it. I held in my screams, like I had always done.

I tried to escape, and ran out into the backyard, in the rain. My mother looked at me while I ran, and gave me a look that said 'I wish you were never born'.

I dove into the muddy ditch me and my brothers had dug, and cried. I cried for what felt like hours, while the rain soaked me to the bone. When my father returned, I heard him speaking with my mother from the window above me.

"Where's Peeta?" he asked.

"Outside," my mother replied.

"Why are there cupcakes on the floor?"

"They fell."

My father made a noise between a snort and a cough. "Clean it up. I'm going to find Peeta," he said, leaving the room.

"Peeta! Peeta, are you out there?" he asked. I fell silent. I curled up in a ball.

"There you are," he said, sitting down beside me.

I didn't reply. "Oh, what's wrong, Fishy?" he asked, using my old nickname.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said, like always. He never questioned me, never even gave me a second thought.

"What did you put on your cupcakes today?"

"Fish."

"Were those the ones on the floor?"

I nodded solemnly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Peeta."

"I'll do better next time," I replied.

"You don't have too. You did great, you always do. Sometimes your mother doesn't like them, Peeta."

"Ok."

"Let's go inside, shall we?" I stood up, holding my father's hand.

Damnit, I miss my father.

"Peeta, you okay?" Finnick asks.

I realize I've been staring at the bakery remains for over five minutes now.

"I'm fine. Just- memories," I reply.

"Okay."

"Let's film over here," Cressida calls. Finnick and I follow her, and the rest follow suit.

Why did they make me come back here?