I wake up to a cool sensation on my back. Must be snow-coat "It's lucky we have snow." says Ms. Everdeen

"What did you do in warm months?" asks Katniss curiously

"Tried to keep the flies away"

I am so disguisted by this thought, and I become very grateful that even though I am definitely suffering, at least my healing will go smoothly. With this new head Peacekeeper, I know others will eventually not be so lucky. The whippings will continue, but the snow will melt away. I look back slightly to see Prim helping her mother put more snow-coat on the torn flesh of my back. She always seemed like a little girl to me, but her skills in healing let me know she is more than what meets the eye. Just barely thirteen years old, and not only can she handle seeing the sick and wounded on her own kitchen table, but she helps them to heal. If I saw what my back looked like right now, I'd probably be sick at the sight, well, that would have been the case had it not been for the Games.

Katniss is rarely around. I think she might be mad at me…but why can that be? Now Gale comes in the door. Great, some awkwardness to go with solemn mood around here. "How is he doing?" asks Gale. "I'm fine" I reply to let him know I can hear him, because he obviously thought I was unconscious. "Oh, snow-coat…will that heal his wounds quicker?" he asks curiously. "Not really," replies Ms. Everdeen. Great, so it's gonna be a nice slow process. She continues "It's mainly to lessen the pain. The coolness of the snow helps with the burning of the wounds. So as he heals for a couple of days we can use this…but in two or three days, his wounds will need air to heal. It will be fairly painful from there, but he should be up and about in around two weeks." Gale doesn't respond. But the look of guilt says it all. Because he knows had it not been for me, he'd be the one about to endure two painful weeks of healing.

I start thinking in my head about my family. My parents haven't even come to visit. Do they even know what happened? Eh, my mom won't care, it just saves her the time of pounding on me anyways. But my father…why hasn't he come? "Do they know?" I ask. Ms. Everdeen looks at me. "Who?" It's hard for me to even say. "My parents." and that's when it happens. "They know…look, I'll just be honest with you. Your mom claims that apparently you've had this coming to you for years because of wasting bread by constantly burning it and ruining decorations on cakes when you were younger. Your father wanted to come…but she won't let him. And she says to keep you here until every last wound is completely healed. Otherwise…" She starts choking up… "otherwise you're just, to put it in her words, 'damaged goods'."

I'm not really hurt or surprised. My mother has never been the loving sort of person. And besides, it's better that I stay here. Better to heal here with a professional than at home with the woman who would probably just ignore me until I was able to work again.

Katniss walks back in sighing in relief. "Thank goodness you covered it." she says. I look at her curiously. "Your back." she says answering the questioning look in my eyes. "I can't stand to see all of those gashes…especially on you." she says. Gale's face drops slightly, but he instantly recomposes himself before she can notice. "When will I be allowed to stand up?" I ask. "Whenever you feel up to it." says Ms. Everdeen. I wanna get away from everyone, so I ask for the snow-coat to be removed. Prim And her mother reluctantly remove the cool snow from my back, which seems to instantly burn again. I start shifting my body, attempting to sit up. Oh God, this hurts! I slowly inch my way off of the table. I stand there, the pain intensifying with every movement. I take one step, then two, and then the pain takes over and I fall to the ground, barely catching myself with my hands before hitting the floor, but this cause my shoulders to suffer a great deal. Panicked, everyone rushes to put me back on the table again. "I want to wait 5 days before you try that again." says Ms. Everdeen. The pain in my back forces me to agree that waiting is best. Soon she and Prim go to bed, exhausted from being my personal healers all day, leaving me alone with Katniss and Gale. Katniss has tears in her eyes. I can tell she got a terrible fright when I fell. "I'm ok." I say, holding her hand in mine. "It's ok, I'm not hurt.", though that's a lie. "I know what you did, Peeta." she says. Gale must've told her. She smiles at me in such a caring way that I get lost in her eyes. Then her voice drops to a whisper. "Thank you."

Thank you. Thank you. A part of me died in those words. A fact I already knew was reinforced when she said that. She appreciated what I did, taking Gale's place. She's glad I did it. She's glad that he didn't suffer a single stroke while I got sixty. She would rather see me with sixty bloody lash marks on my back than him with fifty. I almost feel angry at this. Did part of me actually think that if I did this, then she would love me instead? That if I took a whipping for the man she loved, then her love would shift to me in my suffering? If I truly was thinking that, then I was dead wrong. Part of me is so mad at Katniss. Maybe I was wrong to take his place. Maybe I should've let Gale get fifty lashes of the whip upon his back. I mean, he committed the crime, not me. But now I remember why I did it. For her to see Gale whipped would be the same as me seeing her whipped. I would volunteer in a second to take her place, but I know if she ever got punished in such a terrible way, part of me would die with every lash. I would be so broken. Broken in a way no one deserves. Katniss doesn't deserve that either.

It's been a few days. According to Ms. Everdeen I am healing well and will be better with about 11 days. I try getting up again, this time, with help, I manage to walk outside. Katniss and I carefully walk to the town square. My shirt hurts with every contact it makes with my back, but I ignore it. I'm just glad to be out and about again, though I can barely walk a step on my own. And there, in the town square, it's like a living hell in our little district. One person is receiving a whipping, every stroke making me feel the pain in my back more acutely. Two people are in the stocks. One is headed to the gallows. and there are about seven other people awaiting punishment. Thread's takeover has become a living horror. Things we forgot were illegal we are now being punished for, and severely at that. Who knew that my whipping was only the beginning of Thread's reign of terror. "I can't watch this. Let's go back." I say, wincing as I hear the crack indicating another stroke of the whip. But a sight stops me. Because I know one of the people in the stocks, and I point it out to Katniss.

It's Prim