I was walking through the meadow. The grasses had grown back; once gnarled into black ropes, they now were tall, and swayed side to side in the gentle wind that sighed through the area. These grasses brushed against my calves as I passed through them, and they felt like the slight scrape of fingernails upon one's skin. My feet were bare, and they felt pleasant on the soft soil, which squished pleasantly between my toes with every step I took.

There was nothing ahead, for miles, and miles, just stretches of plain, devoid of any of the familiar trees that normally graced the area. That was odd. Where did all of the trees go? This wasn't district eleven, home of sprawling fields for miles on end. This was district twelve. I recognized the meadow, slightly... but...where...where did all of the scenery go?

"Katniss!" A voice suddenly resounded in the area, which sounded tinny, and almost robotic, as if someone was speaking through a defected microphone.

I spun around, my heart thumping. Who could it be? Who had wandered after me? Was it Peeta? Peeta never followed me into the woods while hunting. He preferred to coop himself up in his house. He had never accompanied me with hunting. I don't think he would start now.

Was I even hunting? I did not even have my arrows and bow. What was I doing here?! As I looked down, I patted my trousers and loose t-shirt, but no, no weapons, no nothing. I felt naked.

I was defenseless, out in the open, and now, some cryptic person was calling my name. Or maybe it was my imagination. But it was too succinct to be a filament of my imagination. Maybe I was going insane…

I looked in all directions, standing on my tiptoes, which had a measly effect, but made me feel like I could see more. There was no one, and if someone was out there, they'd have to be from a very far distance, and if so, then I would not be able to hear them.

Maybe they were crouching in the grasses. Why didn't I think of that?

"Katniss."

This time, the voice was louder, and sent vivid jolts of panic coursing through my veins, pure adrenaline propelling me through the grasses, running wildly, the landscape now becoming one gigantic blur. Who was this? Why was this happening? Oh God, this was even worse than the Hunger Games in this aspect, oh God, oh God…

And now, and now, the meadow which was a place of sanctuary, of innocence, now was saturated with so much…evil that I wanted to leave. The sun glared at me, roasting my skin, and the friendly, soft grasses were now slapping at my legs, leaving glistening stripes of blood in their wake.

"Katniss!"

The voice was much, much closer now, but as I looked back, I still did not see anyone. My tear ducts threatened to burst, as did my lungs, which were now sputtering, and demanding for me to stop. And I did. My running- it was useless. The voices were just getting louder…and louder…what was happening…what did I do…this must be karma, the payback for all of the harm I inflicted upon people in the games. This must be it…

I doubled over, holding my stomach with my right arm, gasping for breath, trying to prevent tears from spilling over. Crying during fright did nothing but frighten me more, so I had to stop this nonsense right away.

"Katniss."

They were definitely in the perimeter. I whirled back, quickly, shaking uncontrollably, but there was no one.

"KAAAAATNISS." I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I unleashed a bloodcurdling scream, turning around once more, to see, to see-

Prim was standing there, oh, thank God, but…she…she had this odd, almost diabolical grin plastered on her face, and her eyes were narrowed…like a shark's. She was clad in my wedding gown…why was she wearing my wedding gown…that was colored red instead of the original white.

"Prim," I said, stepping forward, my hands outstretched, "Sweetheart." What was she doing here? Why'd she look like a cartoon, rather than an actual human being, composed of flesh and blood?!

She stepped backwards quickly, evading my movement. She shook her head.

"Wha-what's going on, Prim, why won't you let me hug you?!" I rasped, and a single tear slid down my cheek.

"You've been bad," she said, and shrugged. "But I've been good."

"Prim, what are you doing, you're scaring me," I said, breathing hard, nausea rising in my constricted throat.

"You like my dress?" she said, and laughed.

"NO! I DON'T! I DON'T I DON'T I DON'T!" I screamed, shaking wildly, tears streaming down my reddened face. I then realized that I had just yelled at my baby sister, with full force. Oh, god, why would I do that?! WHAT WAS GOING ON?

"Follow me," she said, utterly indifferent to my cries. I was very apprehensive, but still followed her, tears coursing down my face.

We walked through what felt like endless miles of grass, and I focused on this image of Prim, her beautiful blonde hair reaching the small of her back. I used to braid her hair, I remember, and help her brush it every night. These sentimental thoughts did nothing to curtail my tears, which I was brushing away with quick movements of my fingers, willing them to go away.

We reached, suddenly, the edge of a forest.

"Where'd this come from?" I asked, staring at the verdant forest in front of me, completely baffled.

Prim completely ignored me, and continued walking, my question left unanswered. I followed her through a thicket, which led to a small clearing, bordered by the swaying trees. In the center was a metal bucket.

"C'mere," she said, gesturing with her little hand. I approached her, and she took my hand. Her hand felt warm, and…sticky. Sticky? I tried to push that thought out of my head.

"Look in the bucket," she said, and I leaned over. The bucket was full of a crimson, viscous liquid, which had small bubbles circulating at the veneer. It…it looked like blood.

"It's what I used to dye this pretty dress," she giggled, "Wanna know where I got it?"

"Um, sure," I said, my lip quivering, my eyebrows scrunched.

She poked her finger into the air, and then slowly raised it up to the sky. "Look alllllll around you, Katniss."

I looked up, and saw, hanging from every tree, someone I loved, my mother, my father, Peeta, Gale, Cinna, Octavia, Haymitch, Finnick, Beetee, Rue, all with their throats slit, and eyes ripped out, their mouths open in their last cry for help.

My screams filled the night, and shattered through my bedroom, as I jolted out of bed, tears fresh on my face, breathing extremely hard.

Just a nightmare. It was…just a nightmare. I press my palms to my eyes, racked with another wave of sobs. It was so vivid,it had felt so…so real. So, so real.

It's times like these when I wish Peeta was by my side. Speaking of which, I wanted nothing more than his presence, which was soothing, which made me feel better. I swung out of bed, reaching for the lamp light. I flicked it on.

I hated this room, all of a sudden. I hated the wallpaper. I hated the floors. I hated the bed. It was my victory home, it was the place given to me for winning the Hunger Games…which I had entered to save my sister, to save my angel. And now, she was ripped from me. This place held that reminder everywhere I went. I wanted out. And I wanted out now. I decided, very abruptly, that I wanted to leave Panem. Now. I don't know how we're going to do it, but I want to. I want to get out of this goddamn forsaken country, which holds nothing for me anymore but severed memories, of all of the dead people I love, and whom I cursed with my toxic presence.

I ran into the bathroom, and splashed my face with a cool dosage of water. I had no threat of seeing myself in the mirror, as I had destroyed it with my fists a few months prior. Those cuts had bled for what felt like an eternity, and Greasy Sae was quite worried.

I grabbed my toothbrush, toothpaste, and hairbrush (which I should use more, but I'm too lazy in that aspect) and carried them back to my bedroom, dumping the toiletries on my bed. I found a suitable backpack, and began opening drawers, shoving as many clothes as I could into it. I finally threw in the hygiene products, and snapped the bag shut.

I then turned off the light, and made my way downstairs, slowly, but surely, as I couldn't see. I would turn on the lights, but that would have meant going back upstairs and doing so, and I wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

I found my shoes and coat by the door, and put them on as fast as I could, shrugging my arms into the warm depths of my coat, which Peeta had bought me for my birthday.

It was bitterly cold outside, and the chill bit into my exposed legs. I realized, in my haste, that I was still wearing underwear, and had forgotten (how do you forget?) to tug on a pair of pants. The coat covered me, thankfully, and I did not feel too embarrassed, because I was completely preoccupied, wrought with sorrow that the dream induced. I was trying to think of how'd we leave, and what Peeta would say when I showed up at his door.

It was very late, I knew that, but I couldn't take it anymore. I hope that I wouldn't scare him too badly.

I hesitated for a moment at his door, but decided to stop being a wuss, and knocked sharply. There was no response, and so, I banged my fist on the door, which was incredibly rude, but at that moment, I did not give a damn.

The door finally creaked open, revealing a very groggy Peeta, who let me in however, no questions asked.

Well, until the door shut.

"Katniss? What's the matter?" He yawned, stretching. Okay, he did not seem too mad. Good. Proceed with the necessary actions.

"I-I want to leave Panem," I said. I flushed bright red, as what I said seemed so…silly to say out loud, a figment of a child's dream spoken out.

He blinked, once, twice, and then said, "You…wanted to tell me this now?"

I didn't respond, just stood there, shivering. Peeta flicked on the light, and his eyes widened as he looked back at me.

"Katniss…are you crying?" he said, softly, stepping towards me.

"No," I lied, which was completely ineffective, because another round of tears spilled down my face at his inquisition.

He stroked my tears away, gently, with his thumbs, cupping my face in his hands, which were soft, and hard at the same time- calloused from years of work, but still, felt soft, inviting on my skin. It was not an entirely bold gesture, as his hands trembled uncontrollably, and he swallowed audibly.

"We'll leave. I promise you that. But we need to secure certain things with certain people, and- where are your pants?" Peeta said, noticing suddenly that I was missing that particular garment. His hands left my face, and clasped together...almost awkwardly.

It would have been funny on any other occasion, but instead, I just shrugged, completely blithe to the situation.

"Well, uh, c'mon," Peeta said, gesturing with his hand for me to follow as he began to ascend the staircase. As we reached his room, he flicked on the light, painting the room with a dim gold. I hadn't been in his room, or his house even, for quite a while. It was remarkably tidy, for a male's room, save for a shirt crumpled in the corner. A cup of paintbrushes sat on his dresser, which was the only hint to a perfect stranger that he pursued artistic interests.

Peeta immediately crossed the room, and snatched up the offending shirt, squashing it into a ball, and squeezing it into a drawer. His haste made the sides of my mouth quirk up slightly. He had always been very anal about things like that...the old Peeta was...and apparently, this version of Peeta was as well, reminding me that he was the same person in some aspects.

"Hey Peeta," I blurted, my eyes wandering back to the cup of paintbrushes, "Do you still paint?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, kneeling down to open the bottom drawer on the dresser, "I just keep my canvasses in a different room...they would not fit in here, and I don't want to get paint all over the floors and stuff."

Who cares if he gets paint on the floor?! Well, Effie might, but none of us really cared for her opinion on that, and she was somewhere distant in Panem, far from District 12, for sure. I did not voice this opinion, though. After all, I had startled him from slumber at an ungodly hour, and here he was...willing to help. My face flushed once more, thinking of what might have happened if it had been a bad night for Peeta. Since when am I so impulsive? Throughout the Hunger Games, and through daily life in District 12, I had meticulously ravaged my brain with every choice I had to make, whether it was wise to shoot at a certain animal, or what strategem I should employ during the games. But now, when I had this one nightmare, which, was just one of out many, mind you- I came running to Peeta?! I had grown soft. I was right. I was a shell of what I once was, of what...

"Katniss. Katniss!" Peeta's voice broke through the slur of mercurial thoughts I was attempting, poorly, to process. He held a pair of beige sweat-pants in an outstrteched hand.

"Thank you," I said, accepting the pants, my gaze flickering across his inscrutable face.

He shrugged. "Just pants. They might be a little big."

"It's fine, thanks," I assuaged, tugging them on. He faced away from me as I did so, to grant me modesty, although it was slightly absurd as he had already seen me like this.

"So, what made you decide this?" Peeta said, glancing at me before taking a sip of tea.

Dawn was breaking, and sleep was entirely futile at this point. He put on a kettle, and said that we needed to talk. I apologized incessantly that I had woken him up, but he said it was okay, because he was having trouble sleeping anyway. After warming the soothing beverage, we toted it outside onto the porch, and sat on the rocking chairs that adorned it.

"Well...I had a nightmare," I said, lamely.

"You...had a nightmare," he repeated, furrowing his eyebrows slightly.

"Well, yes, I know it sounds stupid, but it...it reminded me of everything here...this place, it reeks of evil to me. I know I grew up here. But that's not comforting. It's the place where Prim was chosen..." I swallowed hard, shaking my head to clear the image of her standing in the blood soaked dress. "It's the place where Gale was whipped. It's the place where Snow threatened my family's life. No good memories, or good feelings arise out of this. Everything...everywhere reeks of the games, of...everyone we've lost." I exhaled sharply, fatigued slightly by the outburst of hidden feelings within me.

"It doesn't sound stupid, Katniss. I feel the same way. That's why I wanted to go in the first place. But I thought you couldn't be convinced." Peeta was staring into his mug of steaming tea, as though infatuated with it. I guess it was far too emotional for him to make eye contact with me. I was...was happy the appropriate word? No, maybe relieved was...I felt incredibly relieved that he wanted to still do it...that my almost aggressive refusal earlier might've turned him away from the idea, but it did not. Maybe this is what we need. We have been locked in the cage of Panem our entire lives...there must be something else out there...we cannot spend our whole lives in this blasted mess we once called a 'country.'

"How can we even leave?" I asked. Of course, it was quite nice to dream, but not satisfying. No dream is satisfying until you come around to fulfilling it. I did not really have many dreams, actually, as a child. By dreams, I mean goals. My main goal was feeding my family. I did not think much of my own future, just my family's. It makes me sound altruistic, but that's a sickening word to describe a person like me. It sounds far too saintly.

"By boat."

"Boat...Peeta, I'm not really in the mood for jokes."

"I'm not joking!" he said, sighing. "Really. I talked to Annie recently, and-"

"You...talked to Annie? How is she?!" I hadn't seen her in a while, actually...or any of my old friends, considering I was, well, a hermit, for what felt like a century. If you could call them friends. But it's a better label than 'murder buddies.' Well, Annie wasn't in the games with me, but...still. Finnick was. I hope that she's faring okay.

"She's actually okay. And the baby, named Finnick, is doing good too. He's starting to walk." Peeta cleared his throat, and continued, "Anyway, she does live in District Four right now, and well, you know, they specialize in anything having to do with the sea. So, she said she could hitch us up with a boat."

"Wait...so this...this wasn't an impulsive idea of yours that you decided to tell me about last night, then? You thought this out?" I turned to face him, one eyebrow slightly raised.

"Well...no, I did think it out, actually. I've wanted to leave for a while." He maintained a fixated stare with me, his eyes locked on mine.

"With me?" I said, softly.

"Of course," he replied, confused.

Wait...so...he...he was planning on me going with him. He had been thinking about me. I wasn't wrong! Well, I should not get too hyped about it. He likely doesn't have any romantic implications. It's just, no one wants to navigate unknown waters by themselves, and there aren't many that he'd be willing to go with.

"Well, say something," he said, lightly touching my hand that was clutching the armrest of the chair.

"It'll be dangerous, and what if we crash? We have no idea what's out there," I pointed out.

"Of course we don't know what's out there. But neither did Columbus. Or Magellan."

"Who are they?" I asked, feeling, well, rather stupid.

"Ancient explorers. They set off with a crew, and primitive technology, and managed to discover amazing things. They don't teach that in schools, obviously, to keep the illusion that we're alone in the world. Haymitch found a stack of archaic textbooks that the Capitol meant to destroy, but never got around to doing," Peeta explained.

So, while I was cooped up in bed, and crying all over the place like a deranged lunatic, he was putting himself out there and reading books, and talking to people. I could not make myself feel too bad over this. At least I was out and about now. Moping over what I should have done will not change the past in any way.

"Interesting," I replied, scratching the side of my nose. "You think I can borrow any of those books?"

"Well, yeah, they're not mine. But anyway, to get to the boats, we'll need to take a train down to District Four," Peeta said.

"Sounds like a plan," I said. As I looked over, I realized his hand was still on mine, and my heart beat increased exponentially.

"I'm glad you're on board. I..." He looked away, but then, seemed to find what he wanted to say, and turned back to face me once more. "I missed you...is all."

"I missed you too," I said quietly.

His fingers tapped mine, and I turned my hand over so that they grazed my palm. He interlaced his fingers with mine, slowly, tentatively. Once linked, I softly ran my thumb over his skin, and he squeezed my hand in return.

We proceeded to watch the sun announce its awakening; golden and burnt orange rays piercing the violet sky.

Author's note:

Hello! Thank you for the follows, and the favorite! And the two lovely reviews, which prompted me to continue with this tale.

They will begin their journey either the next chapter, or chapter four. I just needed to establish some preliminary stuff, so it'd make sense.

Much love!

-skywriter23