Hey guys! Thanks for reviewing my chapter to those who did, and for reading it to all of you. You know, the first review I got was from Samwise, and I want to say thanks. No, I didn't take offense at all at what you said. I'm going to let all of you in on something I don't really tell anyone about my writing. This story, well, I never intended on publishing it. I mean on fanfic. I started it for the pure sake of writing and to be honest, I wasn't even going to have a plot. Sometimes the story drives me crazy, because you are absolutely right, Samwise. I am winging it. All of the basic outlines I have are for a few chapters at a time, not just one story. My absolute biggest flaw as a writer is I am a perfectionist and I'm afraid of ending things. I have never ever been able to end ANYTHING. I started writing this story in hopes I would always have something to write. That way, my story would never end (theoretically). So, in answer to some of your question; no. I don't plan on ending this story. Notice the word "plan". I will always try to find a way to continue the story. If you get bored with it, fine. I'm not asking you to always read it. By all means if I'm getting boring SAY SOMETHING! But I am only fourteen, and maybe in time I will get to be a better writer and actually be able to end things. :3 Please enjoy this next chapter. (Oh, and I'm sorry about Finnick's behavior in the last one. I haven't read Catching Fire in a while so I am pretty much just winging it)

The usual crowd that awaited me and Peeta had a horrible, depressing air when we sat down. Primrose had her head down, and was picking dolefully at her food. Mother just had a sad face on, and her arm was curled protectively around her youngest. Peeta's father had a blank look on, but the corners of his mouth were turned down slightly. The only other difference to the sullen group was that half of the people were gone. Ms. Hawthorn, Rory, Vick, and Posy were completely absent from the table along with, of course, their oldest son. Noticing our arrival, everyone left looked up.

"Katniss…" My mother reached her hand across the table and gripped mine. "I'm so sorry."

The moods of the people around me immediately made mine plummet alongside everyone else's. The hard rock that had situated itself inside my stomach yesterday came back.

"I…So am I." I leaned against Peeta's side heavily, still gripping Mother's hand.

Primrose sniffed and a shiny tear slid down her perfect pale cheek. "It shouldn't have been that way."

"Did you know they're holding a ceremony for him in two days?" Mr. Mellark spoke up for the first time. "There was an announcement up."

"No, I didn't…" My appetite abruptly vanished. "I'll make sure to be there."

Peeta gave me an attempted comforting squeeze. "I'm coming with, of course."

"It's just—" My voice cracked and I fought back tears threatening to pour down my face. "This place is supposed to be safe, but he-he…"

Peeta creased his eyebrows and turned to me, saying, "Katniss, we will find out come he died. It has—"

"He didn't die, Peeta." I said a little too harshly. He frowned at me. "He was murdered. And I am going to track down whoever did it and kill them. And maybe they had a family. And maybe then their family will know what it feels like when their world comes crashing down around them." Now heads from all around the cafeteria were turned to look at me. The people at my table, however, had funny looks on, past their sadness. "…And maybe I'm taking that a little too far."

"Katniss, you should let the Officials take care of the tracking down and locking up." Mr. Mellark looked concerned.

I scowled and wiped a single tear from my eye. "No, I don't want to lock them up. I want to kill them." The casualness of my tone surprised everyone.

One person at the table in front of us had his body turned all the way around and now his eyebrows shot up and disappeared in his hairline. I glared at him and he hastily turned back around.

"Don't be so violent." Mother scolded me.

"Right." I spat. "'Don't be so violent' Katniss. My best friend for seven years just got murdered in this supposedly safe place underground. It's not very easy to be nice when all I feel like doing is dying." My voice broke again on the last word and, unexpectedly, hot tears began spilling out of my eyes and I dropped my head.

Primrose's lower lip trembled and she ran over to the other side of the table and wrapped her arms around me.

"Oh, Prim." I held her in my lap while we both cried, my face buried in her hair. "I never imagined this would happen. I loved him so much."

Now I was pretty sure about every pair of eyes in the entire room were trained on our table. Everything was quiet except from someone coughing over near the door and almost every table was whispering amongst themselves. I thought I actually heard someone else crying a few tables away.

"Prim, we—" I swallowed past my tears and the lump in my throat, pulling my little sister away from me slightly to see her face. "We have to pull ourselves together. We have to be strong. If we fall apart any more all we're going to be is helpless piles of mush."

She took a shaky breath and wiped her eyes. "You're r-right. No more crying."

"No more falling apart." I corrected her. "There isn't anything wrong with crying." After kissing her on the top of her head, I turned to Peeta's dad again. "Do you know what time the service is, Mr. Mellark?"

"It's at two in the afternoon." He furrowed his eyebrows and stood up. "I should be getting back to the kitchens."

Peeta, who was frowning and looking down, glanced up at his father and mumbled a goodbye.

After a second of an awkward silence, my mother sniffed and looked up at me and Peeta. "You should probably eat, you two. Keep up your strength for little Alexis."

"Ah." My face contorted. For a moment there I had forgotten of Peeta and mine's task for today.

Peeta saved me. "I'll go and get us some food. You stay here." After kissing me on the forehead, he got up and made his way towards the food stands.

Once he was gone, Mother turned her attention back to me. "Are you alright, Katniss? Are you doing okay?"

I closed my eyes and shrugged, knowing I couldn't talk past the lump in my throat or else I would start crying.

"How did the bad news reach you?" She put her hand over mine. "Did someone tell you?"

My mouth fell open. Didn't she know I was there? I thought everyone knew that… "You—What?"

"It must have been quite a shock to hear." Mother kept going on. "You have been through so much—"

"Mother, I was there." It was rude of me to interrupt her, but if there was hurt feeling, Mother didn't show them.

"Pardon?" She had a very puzzled face on.

"I was there in the room." I bit my lip, forcing back a sob. "I-I held his hand as he died. The last thing he said—"

Mother came around to the other side of the table to hold me as I cried. Unlike Peeta's strong arms protecting me from the dark when he holds me, my mothers' arms were just as soft and as vulnerable as I feel.

I watched silver tears fall into Primrose's hair. "—was my name."

"What?" Mother lifted her face to look at mine, and I saw her eyes were rimmed with wetness.

"The last thing he said was my name." The last word dissolved into tears again and I buried my face in my little sisters' hair, shielding myself from the staring eyes, the whispered names, the whole world. The Hunger Games are over, and no one will ever be forced to stand up in front of the Capitol crowd and have your heart opened up to the world. We may never have to be tortured, cut open, prostituted, or killed ever again, but how come this feels so much worse? In the safety of District Thirteen, having Gale taken away from me, I have never felt more lifeless and empty.

Sorry that one was so short. I wanted it to just be in the cafeteria, and no one can stay in there forever, though. Anyways…. I forgot what I was going to say. Ah, that's okay. I have really good ideas for the next few chapters, so it shouldn't take quite as long to get out if all goes well. But yeah… Review if you can!