Here's the next chapter. I hope you like it. I will not be adding a comment at the end because I believe it's best that way. Please do leave a review and tell me if you like it. Thanks! I do not own Mockingjay.

Ch. 45

When you're young and the fact that the world isn't beautiful hasn't hit you and you're able to talk to strangers and be happy pretty much all the time; you don't understand where life will take you. I guess you don't really know until the day it happens to you. I could say I lost my innocence the day I was reaped, or maybe even the day I didn't shed a tear when a person I knew was murdered live on my television screen. But I think the truth of the matter is, I didn't really lose all of my innocence until today.

It wasn't seeing the scared, lost people rush to their Presidents mansion to find comfort in the words of a mass murderer. Nor was it the screams that I heard on the other blocks or the way people just fell on the ground sobbing because they couldn't handle it. I couldn't really put my finger on what took that last shred of innocence, hope, away from me. I just knew I no longer knew what I was going to become after all of this. I just knew that I could very well die in the minutes to come.

I couldn't see Katniss and Gale in the mass crowds of people nor could I remember which route I was supposed to take. Before really stepping away from Tigris' shop I take a deep breath, push against the brick wall in my head, and know that I am out here for one reason and one reason alone. We were ending this.

I hear a man whispering to a woman, his wife or something of that sort. He's cold and she has layers of clothes on. They're young, but older than me. Her hair is piled up on top of her head in a bun that isn't common among Capitol people. Her eyes are so big. He's tall, he towers over almost everyone. His hair is dark purple, almost so dark one wouldn't notice it was purple with just a quick glance.

His words are fast, "What of the Games?"

Hers slower, but still hushed, "No, we can't think about that. We just have to think of the time being. We could be killed."

"We're innocent."

"It's not what the rebels believe and you know it." The voice of reason, coming strangely from this wide eyed Capitol girl, in this time of chaos.

I want to speak to them, but I hold back. They would recognize me, even though most of my face is covered up. My eyes do shine through. They would notice I have no doubt. I keep on listening.

"It's all a show, they'll be over powered in no time." The man whispers back.

"I wouldn't be so sure." That's when the screams begin accompanied by the never-ending sound of gunfire. I fall to the ground, my hands pressed tightly against my head. Waiting for the pain to end, for the terror to stop, for the sounds, and memories, of death to leave me.

They don't, they never will. The second I left the arena they were with me for the rest of my life. I remember back to that long night on top of the Cornucopia when Katniss and I had to listen to the dying moans of a boy, who, although had tried to kill us, only wanted out of all this pain and misery.

A loud voice booms across the destruction, but only because the speakers are so near to me. Those not twenty feet away, do not turn their heads. There is only a small group of people that hear the announcement.

"The rebels are in open fire, please make your way two streets over and you should be able to make it to the city center safely." I don't recognize the voice, some newscaster that had as much fear as everyone else.

"How do they know it's safe?" The man yells silently to his companion.

"It's our only chance." I stand up with them and the few others and begin a slow walk towards the other street. My head is ducked and I keep my eyes on my feet. I let the other feet around me guide me towards where we are going.

I can only hope that Katniss was not caught in that fire I heard.

Somehow, miraculously we do make it to the City Center. Even more people are here, all shoved tightly together. I crane my neck to try and see Katniss, but I know it is arbitrary.

I hear one long piercing scream before I begin to hear people yell. "The Rebels!" It's full of fear and loss. We have made it; we were winning. I have lost the two people that led me here unknowingly; I wonder what the women's commentary is on this and what the man is feeling. I don't like being all by myself. I keep on trying to move closer to the Presidents mansion. I'm pretty close when I notice the children fenced into a small space, all looking cold and lost.

Parachutes begin to fall to the ground and I stop in my footsteps. The children all smile as they recognize them from the Games they have watched all their lives.

There is always an eerie silence before an explosion.

I'm far enough away to only feel the shockwave, but once it happens I know I must help in one way or another. But just as I'm fifty feet away something stops me short. A young girl, couldn't be older than fourteen, in medic apparel. Her blonde hair swings in braids. Prim.

I turn away from her to see Katniss, running fast and with out breathing. Running towards her young sister whom she thought she had saved when she had volunteered.

There is blood everywhere. Body parts scattered. Children moaning. And yet I can't take my eyes off two girls, so close, but so far away.

That silence. That eerie silence.

A cold shiver runs down my spine before I can assess the situation.

Last thing I can remember is Prim's hand reaching out and then all of a sudden being swallowed by fire.