Hi guys... I'm back! And yes I am terrible for updating in a long, long, long, long, long, long time. I would write a little on this chapter, then I would get stuck. Around halfway in the middle of writing this chapter, I finally received some sort of idea of how I wanted it to go. So I stayed up till one thirty to get it done. Then this morning my spectacular sister edited it for me.

So yes I understand you may want to hurt me for not updating. *A mob starts throwing tomatoes, bricks, snow globes, and old VCRs at the horrible author.* But please try to forgive me. I also have fantastic news that I will announce at the end of this chapter. So stay tuned!

As always, read AND review!

Disclaimer: I do not own under any circumstances own the Hunger Games. Sadly I am not Suzanne Collins. If I were, then Prim would never had died... or Finnick... or any other awesome characters.

The apple cider remained in Rose's mouth like acid. Why did she just ask that? Stupid Rose. It was insensible of her. The November chill suddenly felt like it slipped through under the door and wrapped itself around the kitchen, surrounding the room with no way out; like this conversation. With no way out.

Earlier:

"Oh Rose, you've grown! My goodness!"

"Hi Grandma, it's nice to see you too." Stepping inside the house sent an aura of warmth, making Rose more jovial as she inhaled the fragrance of her grandparents' home: bread. More specifically cranberry apple bread, baked just a few hours ago with the scent still lingering.

"Oh your grandpa is in the study, I'll go get him. Dear, make yourself comfortable. Feel free to drink whatever is in the fridge."

Rose tried to grin. First mistake of the day: she did not call or warn her grandparents in any way possible. It's just an afternoon spent with a delightful granddaughter, right? Nothing could go wrong…

"Is that my sweet pumpkin coming in?" An elderly man leaned on the doorway. The cane the senior citizen used was wooden and clearly old as he needed it ever since he was used to be blonde curly hair was now white as snow with his thinning curly hair making it almost seem as fluffy as the frozen precipitation. In fact, 77-year-old Peeta Mellark looked just like a blue-eyed Santa Claus without a red suit or an army of elves.

"No, just a sour apple." Rose replies.

Her grandfather laughed and leaned onto his cane as he slowly, but surely, wobbleds across the floor. Her grandmother, notices this and rushes in her own speed to aid him. It's hard not to laugh, watching the two as one fuss over the other and nit-pick at what the other is doing to help. Course, that's what happens when you've been married over 50 years.

"How are your grades?" Ugh, he just had to ask.

"Fine." Rose fibbed. Actually, she was below average. Report cards come out in 3 weeks, there is no reason for her parents to know now.

"Honey, you're forgetting something."

Rose looked up from staring at her shoes; that shoelace was just so distracting… "I'm not forgett-Oh!"

Her grandmother pulled out a package of 10 Hare, the most delicious rabbit jerky known to mankind, probably the only rabbit jerky. The company started only as a parody of the famous beef jerky, but only a handful actually like it. To Rose, it is simply divine. She discovered it only because once in grade school a classmate put it into her otherwise boring butter cream sandwich that she had purchased in the cafeteria. It was meant as a joke, to just 'poison' or mess up the taste of her lunch. However, Rose just loved it. Once, 10 Hare almost went bankrupt due to unpopularity. But Grandpa Peeta still had plenty of his riches from the Hunger Games (he makes a billionaire look like a hobo. Okay that is a little far-fetched. Still, the winnings… makin' sweet, sweet money) and he made a large order courtesy of Mellark Bakery. Yet, Grandma Katniss felt she could do a better job than 10 Hare ("I'm mean, it probably even isn't real meat!" "Katniss, you're just jealous someone isn't eating the meat that you hunted yourself.") so whenever the 10 Hare was pulled out, she would purposely make her own the night before.

However, this was a surprise visit and Rose doubted her grandmother had any of her homemade version in stock or in the fridge. That was perfectly fine. Though she adored her grandmother's homemade rabbit jerky, 10 Hare was just better. Yet, this morning, Rose only gnawed at the meat stick. How to talk about a particular topic was tricky. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad…

"So guys, I basically came here to visit of course. But also, I need to do a little research."

Her grandmother shifted in her seat for a second then smiled and replied, "What is it that you need hon?"

Grandpa Peeta popped chips into his mouth after reaching into a nearby bowl and spoke, "It's just a good old fashion history lesson, right Rosie? What they teaching now? Comparison of the geography of the world before Panem and now? History of technology over the ages? Ancient countries and their end?" The man chuckled at a lost joke then briefly got a dark look in his eyes. "Funny, how they relate to war one way or the other…" he muttered rather loudly.

"What would Haymitch say if he saw us now?" Grandma seemed rather lost as well. She glanced at her husband and Rose could've sworn that she saw her gazing into his blue irises.

"He would say, 'Why the hell would you wake me up from the dead to ask me that?' and then he would stretch and wipe the water off that you dumped on him after he passed out and then say, 'Where's the whiskey?' in a completely serious, dry, mellow tone." Grandpa chuckled and grabbed a 10 Hare and bit into it. He winced and took a slice of bread and took a bite of it as well. When he looked satisfied with what he just ate, Peeta looked up and continued, "The old days, when we had to pretend, we had to act like everything was perfectly normal when reality said a big fat no. This is the new world, and everything is different."

Rose saw her chance. "How did it change?"

"What?" Her grandfather looked surprised and even Grandma Mellark looked up from gazing at her husband to think about answering.

Grandma looked out the window. "No war. You should be happier than we were. And safe. Definitely safer." She shuddered as if it was below 30 degrees and there was darkness in her heart.

"So it wasn't safe?"

Grandpa picked up right where his wife had left off. "Yes, from ages 12 to 18, you lived in fear at the beginning of every summer. If you got past the reaping, you had to suffer watching your friends and peers die on TV. You saw the other districts as enemies, even if they were pawns just as much as you were." Rose pressed on, knowing these details already. What she wanted was more than that. Something that she could write about and get a good grade on. "So what was Reaping Day like?"

Grandpa's face tighten, his eyebrows scrunched up with a frown forming on his face. "Full of insecurity. You would wake up from a blissful dream, stare into space and realize what day it was. Mom, she… never mind. Dad attempts to comfort you by patting on the back for only a second before realizing that mother is glaring while my brothers joke when they know you can't laugh at all that day. You…"

"Prim screams the night before and sleeps with our mom because the nightmares are too painful because they could be the future… even if her name is only in once!" Suddenly tears stream down Grandma Katniss's face, but she waves off her husband's concerned expression. She hastily wipes it away and gathers her face in her hands, hoping to build a wall up and continue the story without breaking down. "Loyalty only goes so far on Reaping Day, they say. I don't know about you Peeta, but I could not and still won't consider the possibility of what could have happened to her. "Katniss gave a sharp, mirthless laugh. "Funny how that morning Gale and I talked about running away. How we could defy the Capitol and why it wasn't possible."

"But you did." Rose chimed in an attempt to cheer up her grandmother.

"They got away with it. In the end… we have our scars. Not only on the outside tearing up skin, but secretly on the inside, finding the secret alcoves and hiding away for a rainy day." She looked up abruptly and walked toward the door. "I'll get you a drink."

Katniss left. For once Rose could not say a word. She was speechless. This is not she expected. They opened up so easily. She thought it was going to be an easy A. But they spoke the truth. And she was not prepared. The scary thing was that this happened, probably a whole lot worse. "I, I, I should apologize."

"For what dear?"

The granddaughter stared at him. He did not seem like a killer. He was Grandpa Peeta, the sweet, funny, interesting, always reassuring, Grandpa Peeta. But he must have killed at least once. Right? To survive, somewhere down the line he killed to save either his or Grandma's life. Maybe more than once as well. "I should have told you that I didn't come to visit. I came because I have a report on the history of that time period."

Grandpa smiled. Yet it almost seemed like a twisted smile, with no real compassion. Maybe just a trick of the light. "Of course Katniss, you must have your way. They told me you were dangerous. Now you are trying to manipulate me into talking about the past even though it's painful. And you caused it. My parents are dead. My family is dead. 12 is dead, because of you."

Rose shifted. "Uh, Grandpa, my name isn't Katniss. And… I honestly have no idea what you are talking about. Sorry if you think that way, but 12 is alive and well… we are here in 12. Grandpa, what's wrong?"

Peeta Mellark gripped the armrests of his chair until his knuckles turned white. He blinked and seemed to snap out of a trance. "Sorry dear," he replied in a strangled voice, "sometimes I am not myself. Forgive me."

"Alright." Fortunately Grandma walked in and handed her a glass of cider. She rubbed her hand on Grandpa Mellark's arm when she noticed what was happening. He nodded appreciatively. "If you don't want to talk about this further, I could just go the library and research rather than bother you. We could just put this conversation behind us and move on to something else."

"No, you need to know more. You are 14, and old enough to know." She paused and glanced at her husband. He nodded but didn't stop squeezing the armrest. "Prim's name was called, as you know from being told in the past. I couldn't think. She was supposed to be safe. I was more likely to be picked. But there she was nervously pushing past the children her age and I saw her blouse poking out like a duck tail. I volunteered. I didn't stop to think about it, it was just impulsive. Gale picked her up before she could protest longer. He called me Catnip. He may have been close to tears, but it was definitely anger or sadness in there somewhere in his tone. Peeta's name was called by Effie Trinket. Effie… what a character. I won't forget that wig, that's for sure."

"I couldn't think. Somehow my feet carried me up to that stage. I nervously shook your hand. My brothers… I understand, but they didn't volunteer. That would be suicide." Peeta's were shut, fighting something, like a demon.

"My first thought was, 'Oh no, not Peeta!' I just couldn't imagine fighting to the death… next to him."

"Oh?" His tone was carefully controlled despite his crouched over position, but there was definitely curiosity and maybe jealousy as well, like he already knew who he was competing against.

"It's just… you know!" Katniss was now focused on Peeta. I remember that you were crying, because I saw that your face was red at the train station. And your father, Rose's great-grandfather, gave me cookies."

"Course, he knew you had a chance. I never did until that rule change. Gale would have done better. Course, why would anybody wanted me to fight against, I wasn't much of a tribute in the first place!" Grandpa's face had beams of sweat and he really gripped the chair as he was bended over. His breathing increased and it almost seemed like he was going to hyperventilate. Rose never saw this side of Grandpa before. Ever. Is this what her parents and grandmother would call a flashback?

Grandma ran over to him and whispered in his ear. Rose heard her say, "… sorry… didn't think about it…. love, please come back to me… fight for me. You are so much better than Gale… never should have said…. Peeta! Peeta! … help me babe. Fight this…. believe in you… stay."

His breathing slowed. "Always." He mumbled. They stayed like that, huddled in each other's arms, finding strength. All because Rose decided to ask inconsiderate questions for a paper that didn't really matter anymore. Without considering the consequences.

The apple cider turned rusty in her mouth. Was it supposed to do that? With difficulty, she swallowed. She shivered, it was November, not January, and so was she feeling frozen?

"Thank you."

"Huh?"

"Thank you, I realize we haven't been completely truthful and had this talk with you. We told Sirius a similar version of what you're getting now. And yes," Grandpa Peeta added before Rose could protest, "I had a flashback then too. Don't worry. You didn't cause it." He looked considerably better and was actually able to sit up, yet every few seconds he shivered and still had his wife's arms around him.

"You're, you're okay?" Rose stuttered.

"Yes. But you don't look like you are. Come here, I need a hug from my Rosie." Grandpa's eyes twinkled once again. Grandma motioned toward Rose, and before she knew it, her grandfather's and grandmother's arms her were there holding her. She shouldn't need the hug, it was them who needed it.

"My dear, you are another prime example of victory. Rose Victoria Mellark, you were born because there was finally freedom. And freedom my dear, is priceless." Grandma kissed her head. "Grab a notepad, there is a whole lot more. And considering from what I hear from your mother, you are going to need that A+."

Read and Review!

And who saw Catching Fire? What did you think of it? Leave your response in the reviews.

So I said I was going to announce something important. So here it is:

remember when I said my class is reading Hunger Games? Well, our class period was 'competing' against other periods. Meaning that whenever we would take review tests and vocab tests, the class with the highest grade could eliminate the other classes' 'tributes'. So that in the end, the class with the remaining tribute could win a pizza party while watching Hunger Games the movie. And our class won... but in the process...

I WROTE A ONE SHOT!

I became a little inspired with what we were doing in school, but I wrote a single-chapter story that will be posted soon called The Tundra. It will be up soon!

So anyway, read, review, and read my new one-shot.