I spent the rest of my day with Prim and Mother, laughing and revisiting old stories with them about life before all this happened. Prim was curled up at my side the whole time, occasionally patting my belly and speaking to it. I found that strange, but it didn't hurt anything to let her do it.

I went to lunch and dinner with them as well, and, life breakfast, I didn't see Peeta anywhere. I tried not to show my worry to anyone but, knowing Prim, she probably already knew what I was feeling.

When 9:00 rolled around, I said goodbye to my family and went to my room. I have to admit I was hoping Peeta would be there, but I was disappointed. Maybe if I waited a bit in my room he would come back, so that is what I did.

I think I was asleep for about an hour, when loud footsteps woke me up. It was very dark in my room, so all I saw was a darker shape amongst other shadows. I felt my bed tilt sideways a few degrees as someone sat down next to me.

"Go back to sleep. I will talk to you in the morning." I heard Peeta's voice whisper. After a whole day of going without his voice put me into sort of a drugged coma, seeing as how I was already 99% asleep. Curled up by Peeta's side, I fell asleep again.

When I opened my eyes again, I was still on my bed with Peeta. It was slightly brighter than when I last fell asleep, thanks to the weather-imitator windows. Peeta was still fast asleep, his hand curled loosely around mine. Sandy blond hair framed his sleeping face, making him look more like an angel than I've ever seen him.

As if on cue, my bedroom door suddenly smashed open, revealing a huge, misshapen man. The man was skeletal and horrifying. At his side, a long shiny sword hung in its sheath, waiting. Despite the loud sound he made when crashing my door down, his feet was slow and silent as he glided to my bed.

Even though my lungs weren't working well enough to get any air into them, I still had enough sanity to start shaking Peeta awake. "Peeta! Peeta, please wake up we need to run!" I whispered. Peeta didn't move. "Please, Peeta! Wake up!" I cried quietly, shaking Peeta even harder.

A high, ringing metallic sound filled the air directly above us. Shivering violently, I turned my head upward and saw the sword pointed in between my eyes. The strangers' hands were steady, and he raised his second to his lips. "Shh." The tip forced me to lay flat on the bed, hovering above me. The hand twitched, and at the last second, I shut my eyes, saying a silent goodbye to the sleeping boy next to me. I waited. No pain.

I opened my eyes and stared, horrified, as a river of blood ran down Peeta's throat and soaked the bedcovers. "Peeta!" I screamed. It doesn't matter if the stranger with the knife is still here or not. I took the blankets and attempted to staunch the bleeding, but I knew it was hopeless. No one that had his throat slit ever lived. Ever.

Abandoning the attempt to save him, I buried my face in his shirt and clung on as tight as I could to him, crying. Nothing could save Peeta.

I didn't hear a door open or anything, but the next thing I know, hands were gripping the top of my arms and tried to pry me off of Peeta. "Go." I ordered, my words barely audible because of the tears drowning me. The hands didn't go away; instead, they seemed to pull me tighter to Peeta's chest.

My world had gone numb, dulling my senses. I couldn't feel the warm blood seeping into our clothes and I didn't hear someone saying my name. Just barely, I felt a hand shaking my shoulders. In cold fury, I struck out at the person touching me. Raising my head and inch—though it was useless; I couldn't see through my tears—I screamed, "Leave me alone!"

"Katniss, Katniss," A quiet voice was murmuring somewhere around me, and I finally gave in. The person managed to pry me away from Peeta, and then I was being held by someone.

Originally, I would have checked to see who was holding me, but instead, I just buried my face in their chest and sobbed. Heartbroken, wet sobs that were even dreadful to my own ears. "No, no, no."

Hands cupped my face and forced my head to turn to their owner. Tears blurred my vision, but after a few seconds, I could see the person who was holding me. Messy blond hair around a pale, worried, familiar face.

"Peeta?" My mouth trembled as I formed the impossible name. No, he was dead. It must be someone else….

"You're okay, Katniss. You're safe." Peeta release my head and wrapped his arms around my limp form, rocking me as if I were a little baby.

A wave of fresh tears washed over me again and I found myself clutching my chest, desperate to keep what little sanity I had left. In order to do just that, I took a very deep breath and held it until I stopped freaking out. My eyes blinked several times, clearing my vision. I lifted my head and looked shakily around me. The first thing I noticed was Peeta; he was very much alive. Not a single spot of blood was on his clothes or the sheets around us. Just to make sure, I tilted my head to reassure myself that there wasn't a huge gash in Peeta's neck. There wasn't even a scar. The only thing that was making the blankets less than dry was my sweat. Gross.

Things were going well in order to regain sanity. My crying had stopped, and there wasn't even a reason to cry anymore. As I sat there, drenched in my own sweat and tears, I decided that what I really need was a cold shower, new clothes, and reassurance. The last part could wait until later, but the shower was a must-have.

As I got out of bed, Peeta opened his mouth to speak, but I held up a finger to stop him. Without anything else said, I got a new nightgown from the dresser and headed to the bathroom.

After I soaked in the shower for a while and changed into the fresh pajamas, I stood in front of the mirror. Boy, was I a wreck. My face was still puffy and red, but the shower helped. My once neatly-braided hair was escaping its braid and was mussed everywhere. I undid it and brushed it out. Even though I had worn my hair in braids most of my life, I decided to leave it undid for the rest of the night.

Peeta was still in bed when I went back into my room. When I crawled up next to him, he put his arms around me. "Was that just your usual nightmares, or…?"

I shuddered, unwillingly casting my memory back to my dream. "No, Peeta. Not my usual nightmares."

Peeta leaned his forehead against mine. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

In a struggle to keep tears from coming again, I said, "Not really. Well… you just kind of…" this was going to sound really corny. "…died,"

He caught my hand and held it up to his cheek. "But I'm alive."

"But-but he killed…you…" I wiped my eyes with the hem of my gown. "See this is what happens when I get all 'hormonal pregnant woman' on you. It's not pretty"

Peeta's lips curved up a degree. "It's always important that I know what it's like when you get 'hormonal pregnant woman' on me. Not the worst that has ever happened."

"What do you mean? ... It was the worst dream I have ever had."

Peeta rested his chin on my hand thoughtfully. "It was?"

I nodded. "All of my other nightmares are back in the arena. I know those are fake when I am in them. But there wasn't a single, tiny clue in that nightmare I just had that said it wasn't real. To top the whole 'completely real' thing off, I watched you get your throat slit."

Letting my hand go, Peeta put his arms around me again and I shivered on his chest.

"Are you cold?" he asked me, pulling the blanket up to my chin.

"Not really. I am just really creeped out, that's all." I closed my eyes and rested against Peeta. "Now that I know you are in fact still alive, I would like to go back to sleep."

Peeta laughed quietly. "Okay." His voice sounded amused.

I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at him, my brows furrowed. "What? I recognize that voice. It's you 'she-doesn't-get-it-but-I-will-still-play-along-with-it-just-to-humor-her' look." A yawn threatened to come, but I forced it down, listening to what Peeta had to say for himself.

"It's seven in the morning. People are eating breakfast right now."

I felt my jaw open in surprise. It surely didn't feel like seven. My body was just so tired it felt like two in the morning.

"You can still go back to sleep, Katniss. It just won't be morning when you wake up again. I can wake you up at lunch, though."

"Yes. You had better." I snuggled back down into the covers. "If you want to go to breakfast, feel free."

Peeta said nothing to this, and in no time at all, his slow breathing lulled me to sleep.

Hehe I love nihgtmare scenes, don't you? They are very entertaining. Of course, my origianl draft of that nightmare had sucked pretty bad, so please tell me if this one did. I hope you guys love my story so far! If you have any advice for me or anything like that at all, feel free to reveiw or PM me