What will she think? By Gale

I heard the announcement over a crackly speaker. I was carrying a great heavy lump of coal and I dropped it on my toe. I lay and think about it now.

I wonder if they've told her? I wonder where she is now? They told me she was 'fine' when I asked but if she is then why hasn't she visited me? I wish they'd tell me. I suppose they think they're doing me a favour by not, but they don't know all the terrifying theory's that flash through my head. They don't know how I hear her scream every night. It makes me cry sometimes. I want to see her.

She'd be sad, I suppose. I know that That's the only reason I'm thinking about all this. The Refuge Keepers promised to tell us every time somebody is lost or found or died or even born (which is very, very rare.) which means we hear about it every day. But these two – they just went to my head, and now I can't stop thinking about how Katniss must be feeling.

She must feel terrible, I know, and every time I have to suppress a guilty smile, I feel awful. I can hardly grieve over it, though; I'm not sad. That makes me feel bad. The other part though – I really do wonder how Katniss is feeling about it. Overjoyed at first, I'm sure, but when all the possibilities creep into her mind…I know they will; she's not stupid.

Ok, I admit, I didn't first hear about the second part from the announcement; I was standing right next to it Yes, it was dreadful. A horrible sight, but I still feel as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. That makes me feel guilty again.

I roll over and go to sleep.

I am woken by the feel of boots on my mattress. I keep my eyes shut, hardly daring to breathe. I open one slightly and peer through the lids. I just have time to realise that it's still dark when I realise I am staring into the face of one of the refuge Keepers.

'He's awake' he shouts, 'take him.'

I try to rub the sleep from my eyes but two more Refuge Keepers have a strong grip on my arms as they lead me out of my, and nineteen other boy's, room and out into the night. The cold hits me instantly and I shiver. I am barely conscious of what's happening, still half asleep. I realise I'm being marched down stairs and sat in a chair. I hear a door lock. The three Refuge Keepers are looking at me sternly. I shake myself awake.

'Ok, Gale,' one of them says, 'Agree on something for me, yeah? No lies. Agreed?'

I nod curtly. I know what they're going to say. He gets to the point pretty quickly:

'Gale, did you kill Peeta Mellark?'

I am annoyed that it still comes as a shock. I shake my head, trying not to look guilty or desperate.

'We have reason to believe you did.'

'I didn't. I know why you think that but…' I break off, worried my voice will start shaking.

'We have no evidence you did not.'

'You have no evidence that I did,' I retort stubbornly.

The Refuge Keeper fiddles with his fingers and then puts them behind his back. 'We do,' he replies simply. 'Everybody knows you did it, Gale. We saw the wagon that knocked Peeta down to the tracks. Everybody knows you were right next to it. Everybody knows you hate him. There is no other explanation. You pushed the wagon into him.'

'It rolled,' I protest, but move on quickly, 'Does Katniss know?' I ask suddenly.

'Katniss has been told of the murder.'

'The murder? You mean she thinks…?'

'She knows, son, she knows.'

'No!' I shout, 'I didn't do it! I swear! Don't do anything to me…or Katniss…or…'

'Nobody shall be harmed, son, but until we have evidence, I'm afraid you must remain in here.' He turns to go with the other two.

'Wait!' I say, 'Does Katniss know about…the other part?'

He nods and shuts the door, locking it from the outside. I put my head in my hands. I stamp my feet. I shout protests through the cold, stone walls. I rage all over.

But I don't cry.