I do not own The Hunger Games

Chapter Five-Passing by.

(Katniss)

Everyday, for the next three months of my life, were exactly the same. I would wake up in the morning with the pain searing through my entire body, and slowly I would have to gain my strength to get out of bed by humming or thinking about the things I do have. I would proceed to go downstairs, eat breakfast, and then Peeta and I would begin our work. Some mornings we would talk about things we wanted in the book, sometimes he would draw people or places that corresponded with a particular memory and other times I would write things about people or a story. After that we would eat lunch, and a few days a week I would go hunting, but it was a different hunting than what I used to do. I mainly just go sit in the woods, to tired or to immersed in thought to kill anything. Usually I would use my time in the woods to think about Gale.

I missed Gale. I missed him having my back; I missed telling him everything. However, I don't think I could talk to Gale, little yet see him without thinking of watching my sister being turned to a torch. When I think of Gale, after all my happy memories run through my head, I can't help but think its his fault. My brave, wise, precious Prim is gone and though I know it wasn't him, and I know he loved Prim, and mourned her death as well, I will never be able to think of Gale without that horrible pain taking over.

After I came home from hunting Peeta and I would eat diner, which was more likely than not provided by Greasy Sae, who I have become ever so attached too. Mainly because she knew my old life, she knew the Hob, Gale, Darius, my father, and she knew the old Katniss, which is someone I have been dying to come into contact with. Yet I know that that is an unreasonable hope, the old Katniss died at the seventy-fourth hunger games reaping.

After diner Peeta and I would talk some more, occasionally work in the book again and then head off to bed. Peeta still wouldn't stay with me all night, but he would hold me until I fell asleep, which at least toned down the severity of my nightmares.

Peeta seemed better. He still avoided sleep, but he was usually steady during the day. Sometimes when we were working on the book, something would trigger a nightmare and he would have to grasp the back of the chair and wait for it to pass.

The games of "real or not real" where rare now, but still occurred with deeper things that were hard to talk about. Like one morning we were working on the book, so I was writing down some of the conversations Peeta and I had shared in the cave during the first hunger games and Peeta asked,

"You loved me before I was hijacked. Real or not real?"

I had to think for a long time, while he studied my face. I remember the last time he asked if I loved him, and I had said 'Everyone said I did.' It was true, but he needed an answer.

"Real. I've loved you since the day you gave me that burned bread. But it wasn't a romantic love."

I could tell he had another question itching in his mouth, and I could tell my answer wasn't enough for him, but he restrained himself, at least for today.

"Did we already write that story in the book? The one about the bread?" He asked me instead.

"Yes, it was one of the first stories in there. It was the story you drew your dandelion by."

Hi beautiful people, I'm horribly sorry it's so tiny, but I am sleepy and want to go to bed. This chapter was mainly me trying to show you how I think Katniss would see Gale, and to set up kind of a schedule, if that makes sense. There will be more action or story line later on. I will try to have the next chapter up by lunch-ish time tomorrow. Thank you for reading! Remember to pretty please review! Love you all.