A/N: After some careful consideration, I've decided to go ahead and write Mockingjay in Peeta's POV. But going into it, it's going to be much harder so my updates won't be as frequent.

As we all know, Peeta goes through a series of hallucinations forced on him by the Capitol. I intend to show a lot of these hallucinations in my version of Mockingjay. There are the ones that Suzanne Collins mentioned- Katniss being a mut, her trying to kill him several times- but it's implied that those hallucinations were only the tip of the iceberg.

I thought it might be fun for you all to help me write that part of this story- the hallucinations. Like, send me your idea of a possible hallucination and I might add it. If I do, I'll credit you in the top of the chapter.

And with that, I give you the conclusion of Catching Fire:

Tubes. Machines. Fluids and I.V's. My first question is: Am I dead?

I faintly remember my spinal cord snapping when I hit the tree in the arena. And this memory brings forward a slew of new questions.

What happened to the arena?

What happened to Katniss?

What happened to the other tributes?

Where am I?

My vision is foggy, but I look around the room I'm in. It's a small, square room. There are two flourescent lights in the center of the roof. The floor is tile. I'm hooked up to too many machines to count. I'm pinned down in my bed by straps. There's a strap around each of my wrists and ankles, one around my chest, and one across my forehead. I couldn't move if I wanted to. But I don't want to. I'm confused, I'm dehydrated, hungry, and tired. But mostly, I'm in more pain than I've been in ever, in my entire life.

I don't know how or why I left the arena, but whatever is going on, I wish I would have just been left to die in peace. I resolved to die last year, then again when I found out I'd be going back into the arena. I've been as close to death as possible countless times, and yet, here I am. But where is here?

I don't allow myself to think anymore. I feel sleep coming again, and I welcome it, hoping that I won't wake back up this time.

But I do. Each time I fall asleep and wake up again, my vision is less blurry but my pain is more severe. I want to scream but I find I can't. I can't move my jaw. I look down at my fingers. When I try to move them, nothing happens. Then I realized that my eyes are the only part of my body that can move. Other than them, I'm completely paralyzed. I couldn't scream if I needed to. I can't eat or drink anything. I can't call for help. But I don't know who "Help" is at this point, and I sure as hell can't trust anyone anymore. The only person I'd trust would be Katniss, or maybe Haymitch. But somehow I get the feeling they aren't here with me.

I don't have any way to measure the time. There's no windows in this room, so I can't watch the sun or the moon move across the sky, signaling a new day. I keep falling asleep and waking up. Months could have gone by, or just a few hours, I'd have no way to know. But it must be less than three days, because I haven't had anything to drink. I won't survive more than three days with no water. But really, I don't know how I'm alive now, after snapping my spine in half. Maybe I'm not alive. And this- this constant sleep wake cycle, with no sustenance and no companionship, maybe this is my own personal version of hell.

Once, though, I wake up and see a familiar face: Effie.

"Peeta," she says, standing over me, stroking my cheek with the back of her hand, the way a mother would. She says nothing else. I have tons of questions but no way to ask them. She doesn't sense my confusion, though. She just calls for a nurse. The nurse comes in and asks Effie to step out while she tends to me.

The nurse refills the bags that drip into the I.V's attached to me. "Your food and water," she tells me, while finishing replacing the bags. She then records my vital signs on a chart and leaves the room. But Effie doesn't come back in.

So for all I know, a year could have gone by with me in this state. If I'd been given food and water, and they had a breathing machine hooked up to me, they could have kept me alive. There are a lot of things about my current situation that are making me extremely uncomfortable. But the worst thing is that I've got no sense of time.

As time goes by, my vision becomes clearer and clearer, until one time, I wake up and it's crystal clear. The pain I'm in becomes more bearable each time I wake up. And eventually, I'm able to move my fingers and toes.

More time passes, and the only face I see is of the nurse that's been taking care of me. My throat is dry from going so long without moisture, so my voice is raspy and light, barely audible, but at least I can finally speak. At first, the words sound muffled, but I clear my throat and repeat myself. "Where am I?"

The nurse understands me on the second attempt. She quits recording my vitals, stands up, and walks out the door. A few moments later, Effie comes in. She pulls up a chair and sits by my side. "Hello Peeta, how are you feeling?"

"Like crap. Where's Katniss?" Effie bites her bottom lip and looks away from me. "Where's Katniss?" I ask, with a less pleasant tone.

"She's alive." Is all she says.

"How?" Effie takes a few moments before telling me, "I can't say. You'll have to wait for him."

"Him?" I ask. She gasps.

"I've said too much, I'm sorry Peeta, I have to go."

I watch in silence as Effie hurries out of the room, leaving me here alone again.

The next time I wake up, I'm no longer in the room I was in. I'm in a study somewhere. In front of me, a huge glass window overlooks the stage in the Capitol that Katniss and I have been on one too many times. The stadium that holds the tribute parade is just below that stage. And out the window, I can see the luxurious buildings of the Capitol. And now I know where I am. That's one question.

In front of me, before the window, sits a desk, made so delicately, and carved so beautifully.

The carpet is red, and the furniture is laced in gold. Overall, a beautiful looking room. But I can't enjoy it. Because I know where I am. But I have no idea why.

I hear a door shut behind me, and an Avox comes in carrying a platter of different cheeses and a bottle of wine. The girl sets the platter down on the desk. And puts the wine in a bucket of ice. She sees me then, and walks over to me, giving me a saddened look while placing a hand on my shoulder. Then she's gone.

I then take notice of what position I'm in. I'm sitting in a wooden chair. My feet are tied together, and my hands are tied together behind the back of the chair. I've got a blindfold wrapped around my mouth, tied to the back of my head. I can move my neck, but it's sore.

The door opens again. It makes a creaking sound that I didn't hear before, when the Avox came in. It clicks shut slowly. I hear heavy footsteps behind me. Then I feel a presence standing directly behind me, but being tied to the chair, I can't look. Whoever it is, comes closer, and breathes hot air. The air around me smells like roses and blood. What a combination…

I feel the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Then the feeling spreads throughout my body. The hair on my back, arms, and legs stands straight up, as my body convulses with chills. This can only be one person.

Then, I see him come around from the back of the chair. He sits in his chair behind his desk. He turns to face me, and rests his elbows on his desk, folding his hands. He dabs his mouth with a handkerchief, why? I don't know. He folds it neatly, and he says nothing. He acts as if we've got all the time in the world. Like he controls time. It's not a far-fetched concept for him apparently, he already controls everything else.

He looks me dead in the eyes. And his voice sends terror throughout my body. I can't breathe. My heart stops. I can't move. I just sit here, staring into his eyes. Staring into the eyes of a deadly, poisonous snake, right before it sinks its teeth into your neck. Then he says, "Hello, Peeta. And welcome to my mansion."

The nameplate on the desk reads, "President Snow."