Chapter 20: Shatter.

You know that feeling where with a few simple words your whole body just…shatters…into a million pieces? The thousands of parts that make up…you just disintegrating and escaping through the wind in opposite directions and all that's left is hollowness? Oblivion?

I used to think I knew what it was like to be destroyed, to hurt, to crash…to shatter, but as I stand on my porch this morning I'm having second thoughts.

Because I have a handsome man staring up at me from his place on the steps like I'm the most precious treasure in the world. The swirls of worry, passion, carelessness, and an undying wish to spend the rest of his life with me in his arms swimming in his eyes like waves lapping onto the beach in District 4.

He murmmers "I love you" in my ear not as a goodbye but as a see you later because he doesn't know I'm going to die. He doesn't know that the caged devil inside me which holds all my secrets about today is just banging to get out.

He kisses me desperately, perhaps longer than he should have in the kind of exposed environment we're in. Our goodbyes are futile and half-hearted. Neither of us wanting to part under these circumstances.

A sort of clinging bond seems to form between us in these past moments. One that scares me to death. It's like the need to be with each other at all times has amplified ten tons. Almost like-in a certain obscure way-we're each other's crutch now.

I don't like it since it makes me feel partly helpless but I can't say I disagree with the feeling nor can I complain a whole lot about it.

But it's none of those things which are causing me to have second thoughts about really know what it is to crash. I'm second guessing myself because of the torturous feeling I'm stabbed with hits me when Gale hurries down those house steps, turning to give me one last devilish smile, and reciting something he said a long time ago. During a time much like this one but all the more different in many ways.

"Wear something pretty."

This is when a piece of me cracks for real and I finally truly know I haven't shattered yet, but I'm definitely on my way.

I don't watch Gale's back as he walks home with the intention of changing into nicer clothes for the reaping. Instead I to turn my back and walk inside.

"Breakfast," Prim announces as I close the door.

I grin, taking a seat next to her. As I'm about to dig in though I see her portion is smaller than mine.

"We forgot to go into town last week so we're a little low on food right now. Don't worry about me," she reassures catching onto my concern. "You need it more than I do."

I practically feel the color drain out of my face. "H-how would you know that?"

My sister's expression turns quizzical, answering if it's obvious," Today's the reaping. No matter what you're going to the Captiol. Hopefully it's as a mentor, but you still need your strength."

"Oh. Of course."

I resist the urge to let out a sigh in relief.

She still doesn't know.

If it weren't for the marching crowd towards the Justice Building I would've thought District 12 was abandoned of life what with the grieving silence laid out in the air.

The people seem to know as well as I do how this reaping is going to go down and are praying for it to stop.

I catch familiar eyes in the knots of groups. Most give me a nod of good luck, good bye. When I find Madge though I can't look because I see the tears streaming down her face once she catches sight of me.

Clutching Prim's hand as a pair of Peacekeepers come towards us I pull her into an embrace, until they rip me apart.

I'm herded to a roped section where Peeta and Haymitch stand.

A silent message is passed between my mentor and I.

Everything is set.

He's ready to hold off Peeta when my name is called.

The national anthem plays as well as the video from the Captiol.

At once the booming echo of a microphone surfs across the square and everyone looks up to be met with the sight of a reluctant Effie Trinket.

"Hello!" she chirps falsely. "And welcome to the reaping of the 75th Hunger Games! Victor's first!"

The urge is to strong causing me to drag my stare away from the stage and meeting beautiful, striking grey orbs.

Across the lot stands Mrs. Mellark, Rory, Vick, and Gale. The only family members of the opposite sex to Peeta and I.

My eyes latches onto my boyfriend's as he glances down at my stomach then back up. We talk with our eyes like we've always done while in school, trading, hunting, or just because. Silent messages of love and reassurance passing between us this time and I don't have the heart to tear my gaze away even when my name is called.

Even when I hear the shuffles of struggle from Peeta as he desperately attempts to volunteer, but Haymitch takes him down. Even when my sister cries out. And even when Gale's eyes widen in horror as realization hits him.

But as the undeniable pain and heartbreak in his face shows I'm slapped back into the world, facing forward, emotionless expression, and striding to the stage with confidence, head held high.

I don't dare take a peek at Effie once I'm standing in my rightful spot, overlooking the crowd of District 12.

"Now…for the boy's!" Agonizing time deflates me once more as the never-ending clack of heels across stage is heard. It takes forever for her to pick up a slip of paper.

Everyone holds their breath.

Taking a chance I glance at the Victor's spot only for things to spring into action on fast forward.

Haymitch is still struggling with Peeta, practically fighting him. Both are to caught up in each other that they've barely noticed what's going on.

The thought hits me right as hell breaks loose.

Haymitch is going to miss his chance.

"Vick Hawth-"

"I volunteer as tribute!"

No.

Another crack in my facade. Another loved one in danger. Another step towards my shattering.

An auditable strangled cry leaves my lips as Gale strides to the stage with a look in his eyes that I've seen many times before

Filled with cold hard conviction, determination, blood. It's now I realize deep down he's always seen this coming and he's ready to do whatever it takes. Not only for me. Not only for his unborn child. But for everyone else. For the district's of Panem. And he knows it.

The look gives me a sense of strength.

"Ladies and Gentlemen may I present to you the tributes of District 12! Katniss Everdeen and Gale Hawthorne!"

We stride towards one another, appearing fierce and demanding.

As we meet in the middle, facing the camera, our hands automatically join together, held up high above our heads just as the people of my home raise their three finger salute with absolute certainty.

We've become a symbol for these games now. A protest against President Snow.

We holler with our bodies and our eyes and our actions.

Saying,

They will not beat us.

They will not tear us down.

They will not win…

We are invincible.

Finals over. Laziness now in progress.