I'm in a dark room, if I'm in a room at all. I see a girl approach me. She has dark brown hair which cascades in a braid down her shoulder. Her face is kind yet stern, and I hear my heart beat faster and faster the closer she gets. My ears are practically pounding when she stops walking. Suddenly, flames engulf us, and I wince, expecting to burn, but the flames don't hurt me. In fact, they're warm and oddly comforting. The light from the fire brightens the girl's face. She's about my age with delicate facial features. She's wearing a long, white gown. She smiles at me. It's not forced; it's the most genuine smile I've ever seen. I can see the warmth in her eyes.

She holds something out to me. The flames flicker and grow stronger as her hand reaches mine. She sets the object in my palm and closes my hand around it, smiles at me, and disappears.

I open my palm to find a small ball of fire. I reach through the flames with my other hand and pull out a small golden pin of a Mockingjay.

"Beca!" I hear Jesse yell. "Beca are you okay?" He rests a hand on my back, which shoots pains down my spine.

"Get off of me!"

"I'm barely touching you," he responds. I blink hard and look around. I'm on the ground. How the Hell did I get here? "You fell," he says, as if he could read my thoughts. "You came untied."

"Fantastic."

"Who's Katniss?"

"What?" I look up at him, trying to get up. Pain shoots up my spine with every move.

"You screamed 'Katniss' when you hit the ground."

"I don't know anyone by that name." I manage to get to my feet and wipe the ash and dirt off the front of my jacket. "Wait, did you say I screamed that name?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Grab your bag."

"Wh-"

"Now!" It finally hits him that I had screamed. Any minute now the careers, or any other Tributes, would show up and slaughter us without a fight.

Jesse climbs the tree once more and grabs the rope from his branch then meets me down on the ground. We start running without a destination. We just need to get away from here as fast as we possibly can.

We run into an empty building that seems safe enough, as safe as a half-blown up building can look. The rooms are dark, covered in layers of ash and dust, but as travel through the halls, we find the further you travel, the less dirty it is. We head up some crumbling stairs and go from room to room, looking for any hidden supplies, or even refugee. Especially refugee, now that I'm thinking about it. The tree was a good idea, but I can't sleep in a tree every night, whether or not I have night terrors.

We settle on the cleanest room in the building; the dust is thin and the air is as good as it's going to get. There's a window, or what I would guess where a window would go, in the small room overlooking the area outside. It's actually not a bad spot to hold up in, as long as we can keep an eye on the only staircase and make sure we're safe. Jesse looks out the window, stepping on shattered glass strewn about the floor, and sighs. I take this downtime to explore the room and let my thoughts wander. Who is Katniss and why was she in my dream? As I open what I would suppose as a closet door, I try to materialize the mystery girl's face in my mind, but all I can make out is her braid. And the pin. The pin, glistening in the fire. If I think hard enough, I can still feel the warmth of it in my hand. But why? What was so-

"I'm hungry," Jesse calls out, interrupting my thought.

I almost reply telling him to get it himself, but then I remember what Luke told me. We're a team. We're supposed to work together. That's the only way we'll survive.

"Okay."

I can hear the surprise in his voice, "Let's not go back to the wooded area for a while. We should scope out some more of the arena before we settle to hunt." To hunt. To hunt what, exactly?

"We should probably wait an hour or so before heading out. Just in case people are looking for us."

"Good idea," he says, slumping down against the wall opposite me. He runs his finger along the floor and rubs his fingertips together. "It's dusty in here."

I nod my head, not wanting to talk about ash and dust. "Did you do it?" I ask, looking up to hold his gaze.

"Do what?"

"Kill her." He looks at me with a quizzical facial expression. "Jessica."

"Jessica..." he scratches his cheek. "The girl from 8?"

"Jessica," I nod.

"No, I didn't kill her."

"How'd you get blood on your shirt then?"

He shuffles his feet uncomfortably and rubs his forearm. "I, um, fell."

"Fell?"

"I got the bag and turned to sprint away, but I tripped over one of the pedestals. And I- I landed on her." He swallows hard but continues. "I felt something hit me in the chest and knock the wind out of me, and when I pulled myself up enough to see what it was, I saw it was the handle of a knife."

"So she was dead when you fell on her?"

"Definitely. I felt horrible, but I needed to get out of there before I was killed. I took the knife and ran."

"But, Jesse, you brought two knives, not one. How'd you get the other one?"

"It was..." his hands collapse on his lap and his eyes follow. "It was in her face."

"What?" I choke out.

"That's why I couldn't remember her name. She was covered in blood. I only recognized her by her hair." There were tears streaming down his face and this was when I realized he actually cares. It's easy to forget how innocent he is. He may be older than me, but he's more of a kid than I ever was.

We sit in silence for the rest of the our time. I let him cry silently against the wall. I took the liberty of trying to count the number of glass shards on the floor. There' not much to look at in this place. "Let's go," Jesse says and gets up. I follow.

Jesse leaves his rope in the closet of our temporary home. I protest that we might need it, but he shrugs it off. With an eye roll from me, we're back out in the grass. We move to the back of the building and find that this is where the darkness begins, the burnt grass and trees with the ground covered in ash. One side of our home is beautiful and the other dead.

"Hey. Look over there," Jesse whispers, pointing at a black board.

"That's really interesting, Jesse."

"Let's go look at it," he says, untouched by my sarcasm. He skips ahead and starts to wipe away some of the black ash.

"Dude, that's sick. Don't touch that." He smiles up at me with this side-smirk I've never seen on him before. "What?"

"You called me dude."

"Oh, shut up," I smirk. I join him on the ground, resting on my knees, as he goes hard at the grime, but he can't seem to make a dent. "What's so important about this anyways?"

"It's a sign." He smirks back over at me, but it drops when he sees how confused I am. "They never put signs in arenas. I want to see their fuck up."

"You're an idiot," I mock.

"Idiot and dude in one day? Mitchell, if I didn't know better, I'd say you're starting to like me."

Maybe I am.

Back in the training center, I was never alone with Jesse; there was always Luke or Gail there. Now that I have, he's not as bad as I had thought.

I softly pat him on the back. "Don't get used to it." He laughs and turns back to focus on his work.

After a few minutes, he gives up, but practically squeals when he can make out a whole word. "Barden," he says proudly. "It says Barden."

"Wow, interesting!" I smile wide and I can see the hint of anger in his features. My sarcasm is bothering him, and I love it. "Now let's go get some food before my stomach eats itself." He nods and stands, looking at the sign again.

"Barden," he says under his breath.

"Come on, Barden Boy."

"You are coming around, Becs!"

"Don't," I warn, spinning around to look him dead in the eye, "use that name ever again." He nods a few times with his hands in the air mocking defeat. "Just don't."

"Becs, I'm home!"

"Daddy!" I screamed, running into his extended arms.

He lifted me up into the air then cuddled me in his arms. "How's my big girl doing this morning, hmm? Eating breakfast? What is it today?"

"Oatmeal!" I squealed, hugging his thick neck.

"Always oatmeal," he chuckled as he set me down on the ground. He got down on one knee, looking into my innocent face. "I'm going to go wash up, then I'll be back to eat with you, okay?" I nodded furiously, and he ruffed my hair with his larger-than-life hand. He kissed me on the cheek. "I love you, Becs."

"I love you too, Daddy!"

I wipe the tears from my eyes before they can fall. That's one of the only memories of my father I have. My mom told me he always called me Becs. That name is reserved for his lips only.

We stroll over back to the only wooded area we've found so far. It's a risk, given this is where I screamed this morning, but that was a few hours ago. And besides, going anywhere in the arena is a risk. Jesse and I climb separate trees, waiting to see a squirrel or something scatter by, but I know we won't see anything. And we never do.

"My ass hurts and my back's not much better. Let's get down and walk for a bit," I half-whine half-suggest. Jesse complies and soon enough we're walking through a part of the arena we haven't been before. There is cement everywhere, creating pathways for us to use, sidewalks and such, but we walk beside it. Our boots make too much noise when we walk on it.

I stare down at my feet, taking care not to step on any twigs or kick up more ash, but I look down mostly to ignore the world around me. A cannon or two have gone off today, and that's not as much as there usually is. More people die in the first two days than the rest of the entire Games.

I glance up to make sure we're not walking into a trap or anything, and I accidentally meet eyes with Jesse. His eyes...I can't explain it, but there's something there I haven't seen before. Suddenly, he moves and we're pressed up against a dead tree and his lips are on mine. They're hard and forceful, and it disgusts me. I shove him off of me immediately. "Jesse, what the Hell? We're supposed to be brother and sister!"

He's at a loss for words, but it only takes him a few seconds to find them. "If I'm going to die, I want you to know how I feel. How I truly feel. Beca, I like you...a lot. Like, a lot a lot. I know it's stupid because we're here and there's no way both of can make it out." I stare at him, unsure of what to say. To put it lightly, the feelings are not mutual, but I can't bring myself to say it. I can't tell him. Not when he's looking at me like he is, with his innocent eyes.

He moves in to hug me, and I push him away. He's confused, but he tries again. I push him away a little harder this time. He trips over the strip of cement and falls backwards, tumbling down. I expect him to stop, but he doesn't. He falls out of my view and I run over to find him rolling down steps. Cement steps. I hear his knife clink against the steps with each hit until he finally stops at the bottom, slumped over. Before I realize what I'm doing, I'm sprinting down the steps after him.

There's blood on the ground, but he looks okay. Yeah, he looks okay.

I fall to the ground and cup his head and my hands. "Jesse?" My voice is strained and I can feel my heart pounding in my ears. Not now. He doesn't respond. Not now. I need you.

I feel his muscles relax in my hands and a cannon goes off. No.

I feel tears in my eyes, but I refuse to blink. I can't let them fall. I can't show weakness. Not this early into the Games.

I hear boots smacking against cement, and I pull out Jesse's knife from his waistband and stand with it point towards the noise. I almost drop the knife when I see who it is.

It's her.

It's Chloe.

She has blood running down her face and her eyes are wide, but they aren't looking at my knife, they're looking into my own eyes. I can see the fear in them. They're begging me for help. Her eyes flash down at Jesse's lifeless body then back up at my eyes. She's not afraid of me; I can tell.

I better not regret this.

I pull off Jesse's jacket and bag and head back towards the safe house at a quickened pace. I glance behind me to see if she's following. She is.

I've never been this close to her before, except once, during training. There was one day where we went to almost all the same stations without speaking nor looking each other in the eye. It started with sword training, which she was obviously better than me at. We rotated and both went to fire making. She had to get assistance a few times. I got it on my first try. Another rotation led us both to a test of upper arm strength, the monkey-bars. It sounds lame, but I watched a boy in front of us fall and twist his ankle badly, so it was a pretty serious training exercise. We met again at the snare station. We both sucked at that.

I lead her up the stairs to the safe room. I guess I could start calling it my room. I put down the jacket and bag in the corner where I sat last time, and Chloe just looks around. "You're staying here?"

"Yeah," I say. My back is to her.

"Smart idea."

"Thanks." I look out of the corner of my eye to find her sitting down in the spot where he sat. I dig through his bag to find a canteen, one which I had no idea was in his possession, and walk over to her, handing it over. She smiles weakly and dabs some water on her fingers then proceeds to clean her wound the best she can. "What happened?" I ask, standing back and away from the window and the girl.

"I fell. Hit my head on a rock." She chuckles, "I'm such an idiot."

"Hey, I fell out of a tree yesterday. Don't feel too bad." She smiles at my lame attempt to cheer her up. I return it.

"Why were you in a tree?"

"I slept in it."

"I didn't get to sleep last night."

"Where's your group?" I ask, changing the subject. Chloe is a career; she's supposed to be in a group.

"I got separated. Bumper, the stubby boy from 1, thought it'd be funny to try to cut down a Tracker Jacker nest. God, he's so immature. Anyways, it fell and broke. I ran away, tripped, got cut, then ran into you. I didn't see the others. I just heard buzzing and yelps and Aubrey telling Bumper how stupid he is." She lightly chuckles at the memory. "I'm glad I got away," she adds quietly.

"Why?"

"I'll tell you about it tomorrow. I'm really tired. Where do you sleep in here?"

I look around. There really isn't a good place to lay down for the night with that window missing. "The closet," I decide, pointing to the door to my left.

"A closet?" she asks, a smile breaking across her face.

I get up to open the door and find Jesse's rope lying there. I forgot it was in here. I pick it up and hold it in my hands. I shouldn't be sad; it's just rope. I toss it over into the far corner, away from the closet. Chloe ignores it and stands up, walking over to me.

"You can sleep in here."

"And where are you going to sleep?" she questions.

"I was going to stay up. I'm not really that tired. I can guard the hallway or something."

"But when you do get tired, where are you going to sleep?"

"Over there," I say, pointing at the corner with the rope.

"Beca, it's cold at night. I can't let you sleep out here." I feel weird when she says my name. It feels...right.

"I have two jackets now," I argue, but I feel like there's a rock in my stomach pulling me down when I do.

"Nonsense. Just join me in here when you're sleepy, okay? Otherwise, I'll have to drag you in there myself. And you don't want that," she smiles.

I have to suppress the smile pulling at my lips. "Fine," I say, acting like I'm defeated.

"Good. See you soon then," she winks then steps into the closet and shuts the door.

Oh my god she winked at me.

It only took about half an hour, or what felt like half and hour, before I decided I wanted to go to bed. I slowly opened the closet door and sat down in the opposite side of Chloe. I have to drape my bent legs over hers, but we fit well enough.

I can practically hear Luke screaming at the TV screen right now. I know all of Panem is seeing this, or parts of it. It's not everyday a career leaves her group to seek refugee with a tribute from 6.

No matter the cost of being down those stairs at that time, I'm grateful it turned out like this. I just wish the price was a little less. Maybe Jesse would be out in the hallway right now guarding us. Or maybe Chloe would be dead, killed by his hand.

I try to push all the what ifs from my head and focus in on Chloe's calm face. There's a light glow coming from under the door and it's just enough to light up her face. I thought earlier maybe I shouldn't have been so quick to let her come here, but now I can't see my day ending any other way.