Listen, listen
I would take a whisper if that's all you had to give
But it isn't, is it?
You could come and save me and try to chase the crazy right out of my head

I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name
Like a fool at the top of my lungs
Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright
But it's never enough

Cause my echo, echo
Is the only voice coming back
Shadow, shadow
Is the only friend that I have

"Echo" - Jason Walker

"Come sit, Miss Everdeen."

Eyes locked with Snow's, I try hard not to cringe as the smell of blood washes over me like a wave in the ocean when I take a deep breath—I need as much oxygen I can hold when this man is near. My feet bring me closer to the seat he gestured me to sit down on, and I do as he wants me to.

The walls come up, guarding me from any fear or distaste or any other expressions that threaten to show through my whole body. I keep my eyes as blank as possible, face as expressionless as possible, lips as firm as possible, hands as "relaxed" as possible. I try not to show the cold fear that's been gripping my chest since the moment my eyes fell onto this man, or the burning anger that's been making my head hurt and my eyes almost twitch because all I want to do—and the least I can do in this position right now—is glare at him. For letting me stay alive and not die when the hovercraft pulled me up. For making me kill Peeta. For giving me false hopes when the rules changed for the first time. For making me and Peeta go into the games. For bringing these games to life and almost get Prim into them had I not take her place. For ruining thousands and probably even more lives since the Dark Days ended.

My hatred for this man was indescribable. No words can express how much I want to claw his eyes out, tear his chest and rip his heart out if he had one, or at least just smack off that smirk on his face. The sight of him makes me want to turn violent, but this time I wouldn't bat an eye even if I kill him with my bare hands. I would not feel remorse or regret. I would not lose any night of sleep if I could end his life like he ended lives of innocent children every year.

My silence burns the whole room, but it barely fazes him. He simply leans back on his seat and cross his legs, trying to make himself feel comfortable. It takes everything in me not to turn my nose up in disgust.

"How are you, Miss Everdeen?" his snake-like hiss cuts the silence.

I offer him a small tug of my lip. "Fine."

"I see, I see." He nods. "Any… activities you've been doing during your spare time?"

My eyes stare blankly. "Not much." I shrug.

"Yes, of course. There's not much you can do when you're living in the town, yes? The Victor's Village, even," he says in a nonchalant tone, his eyes never leaving mine. He leans forward, picking a grape from the bowl on the coffee table in front of him, and plop it into his mouth. He leans back and chews, while I stay frozen in my seat. "With the luxury like this," he says after he swallows, gesturing to the whole room, "you don't have to do the routines you used to have back when you were living in the Seam. Am I correct?"

I wonder how he can stand listening to his own voice and talking so much words in a hiss without giving himself a headache. "Sure," I say shortly.

A slight smirk appears on his face. He sits straighter. "I do not appreciate individuals who… trespass into my properties, Miss Everdeen. I should tell you that."

Dread washes over me, and my façade almost breaks when his eyes narrow at me. Of course Snow knows. All those years when Gale and I—and our fathers—go out and hunt… he must have known. I wouldn't be surprised if the reaping ball was filled with Prim's name last year. "You should."

If he's frustrated by my short answers, he doesn't show it. He clicks his tongue, a mock-thoughtful expression on his face. "Where were you earlier this morning, Miss Everdeen?"

"I went to the Seam. To visit my aunt and my cousins." Other than the aunt and cousins part, it's not a lie. I really did come to the Hawthornes earlier before I went out to the woods. What I didn't expect was that Gale only had half-day of work, and things got a little bit complicated after that.

A sly, knowing smile replaces the small smirk. "Oh, yes. The lovely cousins. How is the oldest Hawthorne son, may I ask?"

No, you may not, I think. But on my face is a tight-lipped smile. "He's fine."

"I see." He nods. "He's a hard worker, isn't he? An ambitious man. A loving son and brother. The kind of man who would do anything for the people he loves," he muses. "Such a pity that his hours in the mines can't make up the money he needs to feed his family. Well, a boy like him shouldn't have had the need to be the head of the family in the first place. Especially when he was so much younger. After he," he picks another green grape, "lost his father in a terrible mining accident." Plop. He chews. He swallows. "Just like you."

I hide my clenching fists under my crossed arms. At the same moment, Mom carefully strides into the room, bringing two cups of tea and putting them gently on the coffee table. She bows politely at the President and turns to give me a reassuring smile—that's wobbly and frankly doesn't reassure me at all—and leaves the room in silence.

"A beautiful woman of a mother you have," President Snow says, completely leaving the previous subject. "She used to live here in the town, didn't she? Before she marries your father."

"She did."

He sighs. "And then she lost her husband," he says lowly, almost as if he doesn't want Mom to hear and get offended by his words. "It must have been tough to raise two young daughters by herself."

"It was."

How long will Snow keep his pretenses before he breaks? How long will he continue this… prologue before he gets into the reason why he has the need to visit me, so far away in District 12?

Not so long.

He clears his throat. "We have a problem, Miss Everdeen," he says, once again completely leaving the previous talk. "A problem that may have occurred since the moment you tried to get Peeta to commit suicide with you with those poisonous berries."

And of course, he knows this too. He's Snow. He knows everything. I have nothing to hide. He knows everything.

I nearly flinch and he doesn't miss it because a smirk breaks out on his face once again. The mention of Peeta will always be sensitive to me, no matter how much I get to see his face every night.

"Thankfully, you lost them somewhere during your run—the berries, I mean," he says. "It would've been okay if you left it at that, but no. You didn't stop."

The smell of blood grows stronger, but now a rose scent adds into it somehow. My eyes briefly flicker to the snow white rose sitting in Snow's lapel, but the scent is so strong and different that my only guess is that the flower has been genetically enhanced. But why would a genetically enhanced white snow smell like blood, if the blood smell comes from it at all?

"Yes, you killed Peeta—" my heart tightens at that "—and you came out alive and alone, just like every other victors the previous years. But you," his eyes turn into slits, "created… a difference this year. With your slight hesitation before you let go of that arrow. With your… heartfelt words that failed to be blocked during the broadcast of the last minutes of the games. And the latest interview you had. It drove the whole country insane."

To be honest, I saw this coming. But I never expected Snow to actually come and face me to tell this himself rather than giving me his punishment in complete silence. I don't know which one I'd prefer.

"Funny thing is," an amused smile plays on his lips, "this wasn't the first time I had to deal with such a thing. And the funnier thing is that the last time I had to deal with this… was during your mentor's year of glory."

Flashes of Haymitch's games, Madge's words and the realization and conclusion I found when I talked about it to Peeta comes back in full force. I was right. I am right. "How is it funny?"

The smile doesn't falter. "I don't expect you to remember Mr. Abernathy's games." But I do. I just watched it yesterday and Snow doesn't know that. He doesn't know that. I have something that Snow doesn't know about; a knowledge, a full knowledge of how Haymitch's game played out. "But things got a little bit ugly after he won—after everyone saw how he won.

"I, frankly, do not plan on seeing another chaos ever again, but the damages have been done once again this time. And I expect you to take good care of it, Miss Everdeen. Just like how your mentor dealt with it." His once light voice has turned into a deep, dangerous hiss even though the smile is still present. And that's what terrifies me the most. How his eyes and lips can betray the anger he lets out on his voice. How many things he can fool and manipulate with his sneaky ways. How many acts he can pull to stop one of my own.

"So there have been some sort of an uprising, am I correct?" I speak in monotone, even though my heart is about to leap with slight hope under the pressure of the fear and anger.

"Not yet," he says with a slight shrug, his voice returning to his earlier tone. "Just some futile attempt of protests, here and there. Nothing the Peacekeepers can't take care of."

The cold dread once again washes over me.

"But it can get worse. And I fear that it will, if you don't stop… this. Whatever you're doing. Whatever you're planning to do." The dangerous tone comes back but a little bit toned down. "Do you know what could happen if the fire does not stop? It burns down everything in sight."

A smirk threatened to appear on my own face, despite the mixed emotions I feel inside me.

"If the protests get bigger, they'll turn into an uprising. And uprisings have been known to lead to revolution." His face turns into one of pained and stressed as he goes to rub the side of his face. "So many lives would go to waste, do you know? The horrors everyone in the districts must have to face with the fight and the possible war this revolution could bring. Believe me when I say, Miss Everdeen, that if the Capitol only loosen the grip on the districts, the entire system would collapse. And it's a nightmare. Not to me, but to everyone else as well. I have lived in the Dark Days and I have seen how terrible life could get, and I wouldn't wish a life like that upon the people that live in my country."

The pain and stress he shows bring me into a slight shock. How genuine they seem. How… sincere he sounds with the words he said in his last speech. Is it true, the concern he has over the lives of the people in the districts? Or is it just another one of his act, his manipulation, and his ways to fool me? Either way, the words can't help but blurt out from my lips. "It must be a fragile system, if some insignificant words of a nobody like me can bring it down."

He stretches out a long pause as he fights over the correct words to say. "The issue here is that, Miss Everdeen, you are unfortunately not just some… nobody as you strongly believe so. Your words aren't considered insignificant to those wishing souls that watch every move your lips make. You are… a victor. And everyone looks up to you."

"I didn't mean to cause any sort of an uprising. That's the last thing on my mind." And it's true. These past few weeks, even months, have been filled with guilt and nightmares over losing Peeta and watching children die in front of my eyes. Before Peeta pointed it out yesterday, creating a chaos was the last thing on my mind. Bringing the Capitol down was never a plan that I had, even though it had its temptations.

"I believe you, but it doesn't matter. You've become a spark, Miss Everdeen. Your stylist has made sure of that, when he turned you into the Girl on Fire. And sadly, if this said spark is left unattended, it can grow to an inferno that destroys Panem."

I blink. "So why not just kill me?"

"Right now? In public's eye?" he shakes his head, taking a sip of his tea. "Some people are smarter than you think, and they can put two and two together pretty quickly."

"Arrange an accident, then."

"Like I said, some people are smart. An accident may be believable to some people, but some other won't buy it. And I'm not risking it."

"What do I do now?" I ask him after a few seconds of strained silence.

He pauses as he narrows his eyes. "Convince me. Convince everyone else that what you did was just a desperate act of love. That it can easily be shrugged off. That it wasn't an attempt of rebellion. That you, in the end, didn't regret killing him because it was the right thing to do—one victor every year. Everyone should believe that Peeta was just another fallen tribute while you are the victor. Don't make them think otherwise. Don't make them think that you could've saved him, because you couldn't have. You aren't trying to defy the Capitol. Convince them that the only reason why you hesitated before killing Peeta was only because you were crazy in love with him. You loved him, didn't you?"

His question corners me. Did I love Peeta? Do I love him? I don't know. Peeta died before I could sort out my feelings. And Haymitch's confirmation about how Peeta's love for me was real only confused me. Even if he did love me, and I do love him, it won't bring me anywhere. He's not here anymore because I was the one who stopped the beat of his heart. Finally, I settle on, "I do." And I wonder if it's only a lie or if it's so much more.

"If you do so," he hums almost in amusement, "then you shouldn't have sneaked out with your… cousin. That's not very convincing, Miss Everdeen."

I grit my teeth as the thought of seeing Gale's lifeless eyes and a bullet hole in his forehead starts haunting my mind. Knowing Snow and what he and his people are capable of, a bullet to Gale's head would only be a blessing. And knowing how risky the actions I've chosen to do, Snow wouldn't be too merciful with his punishment. "He didn't do anything wrong."

"If that's what you want to believe." He shrugs. "Just remember. Convince me. Don't let your actions speak otherwise. You've killed one love in your life, you sure don't need to kill some others."

I'm so done with the calm and nonchalant façade I've been trying to put up, and I let my eyes turn hot and cold as I glare at the man before me. "If anyone's to be killed, it's me. Don't touch my family, don't touch my friends, don't touch their families," I state firmly.

"Of course." His smile mocks me in my face. He stands up after finishing his cup of tea. "Remember what I said. See you in the Capitol, Miss Everdeen."

He starts to walk out of the room, his guards escorting him while I sit seething at nothing. Before he left, though, he steals a glance over his shoulder and grins.

"By the way, I know about the kiss."

And then he's gone.

Mom and Prim have been trying to get a word out of me, but I keep my mouth shut. They don't need to know. They don't need to face the threats and the horrors. As far as they know, we are safe and rich and have nothing to worry about—and it should stay that way. I can't afford to let Mom fall into another depression like she had when Dad died, and I can't afford to let Prim into another nightmare.

I sprint into my room and lock the door, just to emphasize that I do not want to be disturbed. Not now when I need to clear my mind. Snow's words kept replaying back, his hiss ringing in my ear and making my head dizzy.

I spot Peeta, standing patiently by my bed. I approach him, panting as I do so, and collapse onto my bed. My body bounces a little bit, and I scoot over to give space for Peeta even though technically he doesn't take any space.

"What did Snow want?" he asks quietly.

"You weren't there?" I ask back, a bit surprised. "I thought you'd want to at least… eavesdrop the whole conversation."

He looks at me and smiles. "I want to give you as much privacy as you can get. I can't always follow you around, you know. I don't like being a stalker."

His teasing tone gets a weak laugh out of my lips, and I sigh. "So you don't know anything? Ever since the morning?" Even the kiss?

"Nope. I've been staying here all day long."

"Doesn't it get boring?" I question him. "Just… wandering around. Having no directions. I'm the only one who can see you, the only one you can talk to."

"I don't mind," he hums. "Even if you're the only one who can see and hear me. I don't mind."

"Why? You can't even talk to your family. Your brothers, your mother… your father," I choke out.

"Seeing them is enough. I'm fine even though they don't know I'm there," he says softly, putting an arm behind his head. "I see them every night. They're… they're a mess," he confesses.

I can feel my eyes hot with unshed tears. "I'm sorry," I croak. "I'm so sorry."

"No, Katniss, no," he says frantically, sitting up and looking down at me. "They'll deal with it. They'll move on. They'll be fine. It's just too soon for them to be okay, but they will be one day. Don't be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for."

I stare at him in disbelief. "Nothing? I have everything to be sorry for, Peeta. I shouldn't have killed you. I should've just let myself die. That'd be easier."

He scoffs. "For who? Not for me, Katniss. I can't deal with your death."

"And you think I can deal with yours?" I shriek, not caring if my family can hear me and think I'm crazy. I sit up. "I can't, Peeta. I can't. It's killing me every day, every night. I kill you, willingly. I could've ended it by killing myself, but no. I shot an arrow through your chest. I was there as you took your last breath. I'm alive and you're not and I'm the reason why you're not alive and I have to deal with that every single day in my life, every waking moment and even when I'm asleep, it haunts me every night. You said you can't deal with my death but do you ever think about me? About how I feel?"

"Katniss—"

"It's not easy, Peeta. It's not easy. You're not the one who's alive. You're not the one who has to deal with the nightmares. You're not the one who has to carry the guilt. It's not easy for me. Not at all," I whisper, letting the tears fall down my cheek. I bring my knees up and bury my face in it.

If Peeta was alive I would hear his heavy breathing by now, but he wasn't alive. He sits next to me, his body completely motionless.

"It's hard either way, Peeta. Whether it's you or me who's dead," I say hoarsely, shaking my head. "I might've killed the other tributes but it was for a reason. But I killed you… while you did no harm to me. That's what kills me the most; because you didn't deserve to die. You did nothing to me that made you deserve to be killed by my own hands."

I pull my head up from my knees and wipe my tears. My eyes are anywhere but on him. "Snow wants me to convince the whole country that killing you was the right thing to do. That I only hesitated because I was crazy in love with you. He wants me to put out the fire by letting everyone forget about you. I can't do that," my voice breaks.

I continue, "He doubts my love for you. He knows about the Hawthornes… and he saw Gale and I kissed."

For the first time after his silence, he speaks quietly, so quietly that I almost miss it. "You kissed Gale?"

I clench my jaw. "And the whole time I was thinking about you," I mutter under my breath, but he probably hears it. "You know what? Just leave me alone. For the night, for the week, forever, I don't care." Oh, but that's a lie. I do care if he's gone forever. "I can't—I can't look at you right now. I need to cool off my head and whatever. I just—" I swallow hard and sigh. "Just leave, Peeta. Go see your family."

He's looking at me intensely, but I close my eyes. My ears may have fooled me, but I hear him say softly. "Alright."

And when I open my eyes, Peeta's gone.

For the first time in a long time since Peeta "came back", I cry myself to sleep with no one to comfort me. And in my nightmare that night, Peeta drives his knife right into his own chest, and he bleeds to death as I watch with my unblinking eyes.

His blue eyes never leave mine until the very last breath he takes.

I wake up screaming to an empty bed, an empty room, and an empty heart.

A/N: Ah. The sweet smell of drama and… blood and roses. Leave me some reviews and pray for a quick update, alright? ;)

Anyway, the Victory Tour's coming up. What do you want to see/read/whatever during the tour? :)