It was my eighteenth birthday. Funny that.

I woke up screaming. Danila's name that time. But no matter how I yelled or pulled or did anything, he always died and then they came for me, their eyes pitted in the darkness, their arms and legs stretching longer and longer. They reached for me and I desperately tried to push them away, begging them to stop.

That's when I heard Yondrie's voice, low and soothing, "Shh, Jay, everything's alright, it was just a dream, it was just a dream…"

I shuddered with relief, exhausted from my fight.

"Which one was it this time?" she murmured into my hair.

I shook my head. I didn't want to talk about this one or any of them or anything. I was tired of acting like a child who had to be constantly soothed and coddled and couldn't ever sleep by himself.

I was just plain tired.

I stumbled out of the bed, mumbling something or other about being fine and needing something to eat before walking down the stairs and unlocking the door. I stopped at the porch, leaning against the railing, breathing in great lungfuls of the sharp snowy air as my head slowly cleared.

It was just a dream. It wasn't real.

But it was real once.

I couldn't say when exactly the nightmares began after the Games but they certainly seemed to accelerate as more time passed, not slow down. It made me suspect the real reason victors were given their own village was not as a mark of distinction, but rather to keep the rest of the district from hearing their screams.

Yondrie and I were married as soon as possible after the Games – both our feelings and the Capitol's sentiments made sure of that – and after a month of my screams and sobs of names and faces she would never know, she took me to the doctor.

That was a new experience for both of us. We had never had enough money in our lives until then to even consider a doctor.

"I am very worried," she had said to him as if I wasn't even there. "He barely sleeps, never mind eating. He speaks in his sleep and has even taken to sleepwalking recently, sometimes walking down the pathway outside our house. There has to be something you can do to stop this."

The doctor, too, was equally concerned, most likely because he had never seen any other victor besides me. He instantly prescribed morphling, hoping that would calm me down enough to sleep.

It did. But it also had the added side effect of leaving me completely detached from the world. After a week where I did nothing but stare at the cracks in the walls, Yondrie decided she liked me far better when I was screaming and promptly destroyed all the remaining morphling in the house.

As far as she knew, I hadn't taken it since then. But after a taste of peace, however artificial, this was something too good for me to pass up on. Fortunately the doctor felt enough pity to keep giving me some of his supplies and whenever I could without Yondrie becoming too suspicious, I took some.

Like right now.

The needle was instant relief, shutting out the cold and exhaustion. What was I so frightened about only moments before? I couldn't remember anymore. It didn't matter. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.

It felt like days but it must have been only a few minutes when the door opened and Yondrie stepped out.

"Jay, get back inside this instant, you are going to freeze death out here."

I couldn't help but smile. "Yes, mother. Anything else?"

"Your lips are currently turning blue and yes, the prep team is going to be here in three hours so you'd better be ready by that time and preferably not bluish."

"I make no promises." She went to go back inside. "Oh, by the way, I need to go into town before we leave."

I only heard her voice echoing within the house, "Well, do it now for heaven's sake! They won't be pleased if you're not here when they broadcast and I swear, I won't say anything to defend you."

I laughed and went to go back inside. I may have been unlucky in so many parts of my life but Yondrie was a gift I never deserved. How she put up with me is something I will not ever be able to understand.

Going into town was something I had begun to hate.

It wasn't always like that. But of course, that was Before. Before I was the son of Nathaniel and Assandra Tipper, a quiet boy who smiled and nodded and was nothing but sweet. Now I was a victor, the first and only of my district. People stared at me with pity and whispers if I was lucky. If I wasn't, they were either fearful or filled with contempt.

They all knew what I had done in the Games, after all.

Even Kit was different when I bumped into him, winding my way down into the Seam. We stood there for a moment, he in his miner clothes and me dressed like a merchant. His eyes flashed with recognition but they were guarded and wary and maybe even a little bit fearful. I wanted to say something to him, anything to reassure him I was still me but as soon as I caught my voice he was off down the road with the rest of the miners on their way to work. I didn't move until I saw the flash of Dad's green eyes go with them.

The house was as I had left it six months ago, all worn and weary and splintered. It was funny, when I lived in it I thought it was perfectly fine. But after seeing the Capitol, and living in the Victor's Village, I realized how poor we had been all those years.

Mom was in the kitchen and could only hear the door creak open.

"Nathaniel," she laughed, "did you miss me already? You know, if you want to stop being late at the mine, you should probably-"

She stopped as soon as I came into view. Since leaving so soon after the Games I hadn't seen her nor she I. I knew I must have looked different, older, exhausted from my lack of sleep, and maybe even starting to show signs of my addiction to morphling because she gave me such a pitiful look as she dropped her knife and grabbed me in a fierce embrace.

"Jay," she whispered. "What on earth are you doing here?"

In response, I pulled out the envelope, still wet from the snow, placing it on the table.

"Half of my earnings."

She picked it up, pulling out the money. She shook her head. "Jay, we can't accept this."

"You will," I said, harsher than it was meant to be. "I know you need the money and I have more than enough for myself and Yondrie. Take it. I won't let you give it back."

She looked at me for a moment, accessing whether I could be moved or not, before nodding her head and putting the money in her pocket. "Thank you."

We didn't say anything for a long while, trying to avoid the one topic that was left to talk about.

"Your father," she said finally, speaking the word. "I think maybe if you talked to him, maybe you could work things out."

"No. I am never talking to him again. Not after what he did. Not now. Not ever!" I wasn't sure when I started yelling but I was and it shook the house in fury.

And that's when she gave me that look, only for a fraction of a second but a look nonetheless of fear and contempt rolled into one.

I dropped my head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell like that."

"Jay," she said, placing her hands on my shoulders and I was sure she was going to start at me again but she simply said, "We are grateful for the money. Now go home and get some rest before the Victory Tour. I have the feeling you're going to need it."

I smiled. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Jay."

I was almost out of the house before I heard her voice one last time.

"Oh, and Jay? Happy birthday."

I didn't say anything but I smiled nonetheless as I walked all the way back to the Victor's Village.

True to Yondrie's predictions, the prep team was already there and she did nothing to stop them as they threw their frustrations upon me.

"Honestly, Jay, what were you thinking? What if the cameras had started rolling before you had even returned?"

"I suppose Capitol citizens would have died in disappointment," I said.

"Jay, now really, be serious. This is an important event which all of the country will be watching, including the new President."

And that was exactly what was getting me so worked up. I knew the President couldn't be happy with what had gone down in the Games and I was highly suspicious that he would get me to pay tenfold, most likely with my life and probably when I least expected it. That was just as much contributing to my sleepless nights and constant vigilance as memories of the Games.

I really needed a hit of morphling at that moment. But with all those people around and with the morphling tucked away in my luggage, I knew that was not going to happen anytime soon.

"All set," the prep team finally told me and I walked out of there, waving to the cameras, smiling, and gritting my teeth the whole way to the train.

It was only once there that I breathed again and sank into one of the chairs in utter exhaustion.

"You look worse for wear," I heard a familiar voice say and despite all the fear and pain of the day, I had to feel some happiness.

"Mags," I said, looking up. "Am I glad to see you."