Walking home in the dark, another twelve hour marathon day under my belt, I feel the grime and the soot of the coal coating my whole body. It rubs in places where it never should be able to get and makes the whole experience that much worse. Especially since ending your shift does not mean a warm shower and a soft mattress.
No, for us it means another night of black sheets and a crushed hay bed.
Plus, tonight will only be made worse by the revelations of the interviews that I've made it a point to miss. I know from last time that I can't watch them this round. That surely I'll be spooked by another one of Peeta Mellarks graceful attempts at Katniss.
No, I can't watch them live and I hope perhaps that I can miss the replay as well.
As I walk the near mile path home I keep my head tucked down, ignoring the whispers and gasps that surround me. It's not a good sign and I debate whether I should take the long way and avoid the embarrassment of the Hob. Everyone there knows better about Katniss and I – about the way I feel towards my 'cousin'.
No, I won't let it get to me.
I pull the heavy doors open and walk at a brisk pace, the soot falling off my shoulders in the still air. The people look and their eyes widen. I see Sae ahead of me and flinch at the way her eyes pity me. I don't know if I want to know.
Yes, I do – it's better to find out here than from my family who will try not to make it a big deal.
Stopping in at her stall, I sit heavily on the stool and reach for the meager money I have in my pocket. Her hand reaches out and rests on my shoulder as she slips a bowl in front of me. My eyes meet hers in the dim light and I know it's not good.
"He says she's with child," Sae mutters and my heart stops.
No.
I feel my lungs seize in my chest. This is worse than the option of marriage. This is worse than a Toasting or a promise or a confession from her. This is an admittance of something so much worse. This is her agreeing to a life she never wanted – to be married, to have children. She didn't want this.
No, she must or she would have dealt with it.
I look up at Sae and feel my body rearing back and my legs tangling in the stool as I fall over. I stand swiftly from the ground and leave without another word. Heading home I don't dare look up as my ears ring with Sae's voice in my head. I slam the door to my house, my body heavy as it leans back and slides down the frame.
"Gale, I'm sorry." It's Prim at my feet, her hand on mine.
No, she shouldn't be apologizing for this – nobody should have to apologize except Snow.
Despite my best attempts at playing sick I'm not allowed to skip out on another day in the mines. There's no way we could miss our quota, especially not when the Capitol has increased their order in comparison to the last few months. My boss had asked me if I even still wanted a job.
"Yes," I'd replied – though the job I wanted never involved being hundreds of feet in the ground.
Yes, I need to work to feed my family.
I've done my very best to watch every repeat of the Games that have played since they started – often that means staying up all hours of the night. There's plenty of screen time for the Star-Crossed Lovers this time and I drink it in like a parched beast. I watch the way she moves, the way her hand splays across her stomach every so often.
Yes, it's true what Peeta says about the Girl on Fire.
It's when I'm coming home from work one night that the feeling of dread starts to fill me. There aren't many people out tonight and that usually only means one thing – the Games broadcast has been extended. That something is happening in the Arena that begs people to watch. I rush home to that realization, bursting through the door and startling the bodies crammed onto the couch.
Yes, something is indeed happening.
My mother is at my side before I've even pulled my boots off, her hands resting on my shoulders as she looks me in the eyes. She's imploring me to be measured with whatever is playing out before us. I look over and see Prim sitting in Mrs Everdeen's lap, Rory's hand tight in hers and holding on for dear life.
"That's too much blood," Mrs Everdeen whispers and it's a medical conclusion.
No.
I see the blood on the sand, the way that Peeta rests his hand on her stomach as he leads her to the water and I can't move any further. My legs collapse below me and I end up on the floor, my eyes never straying from the television set. I feel Posy climb into my lap, feel her tears on my shirt. She doesn't understand what's happening but she can feel it in the air.
"I don't think she's strong enough for this," I hear Mrs Everdeen whisper and I want to throw her out.
Yes, she is strong enough for this because Peeta will make her strong enough.
We sit in silence as the camera focuses in on Peeta and Katniss in the water. It doesn't bother with the other Victors – they're not suffering in public. Instead it stays glued to the desperately clutching pair as Peeta begs for comfort and Katniss begs for forgiveness. I wish I could look away, that I could hold her – hell, hold them both – and tell them it's okay.
Yes, I love Katniss Everdeen but so does Peeta Mellark and he's losing something as well.
When we see them finally calm, see the tears dry up and the nails unclench from palms, it's like we're able to breathe again. There are tears, but also a small bit of relief. I condemn the thought but I can't help thinking that maybe this is best. There's a fire building outside of the Arena and the spark has just been lit.
Yes, Panem will burn with the symbol of those who've lost everything.