Here's the next chapter! Enjoy! I do not own Mockingjay.

Ch. 47

"I'm not sure what it is. Just at moments I can't stand her. She's there in my mind and I just want to rip everything that is about her and who she is and even the memories of her in my head apart. It's not like before. I don't see her as a mutt, per say, but it's just something. Something makes me want to make her nonexistent." I look at Dr. Aurelius whom writes quickly and with concern down onto his dark clipboard that never seems to leave his hands. He looks tired as he stops for a second to rub his eyes. I wonder if he's lost anyone over all this time.

"Is it at a certain time? Maybe in the night when your mind is the most imaginative? During the day when you have nothing better to do?" He asks me. I wondered if there was a rhyme and reason to it, but there wasn't at all. One time in the morning; another at night. It just hits me.

"No. All over the place. That's what scares me the most, will I even be able to have any kind of relationship with her?" He stops writing and looks at me. He had dark eyes, the kind that intimidated. They weren't kind by nature, but they were by the way he used them. He really was born to be a doctor, like Prim had been. I frown, I remind myself daily of all the people I have lost.

I bring myself back to reality. My mind was run off track regularly. It was rare that I ever really got to chew on anything.

"Peeta. I'm not a hopeless romantic. I have my wife, but our story was normal. It is nowhere near your magnitude. But it's funny because I don't want to give up on you. I want you to have your happy ending, out of all the people you deserve it and the worst part is I can't give you a yes or no on it. I don't know if you'll ever be able to directly talk to Katniss. I don't know Peeta. They've never hijacked anyone to the extent they hijacked you. It's all a question. It's all predictions that could be easily proven wrong."

I take it in for all it is. My life could be refined to hospital walls and talking to strangers and living a life that isn't ideal nor exciting. I'll give you that I've had enough excitement, but I haven't had ideal. I've never had ideal. Not when I was born to two parents that didn't love each other. Not when I fell in love with a girl that barely knew of my existence. Not when I got reaped into the Hunger Games. Not when I got my heart broken by a girl who I thought loved me back. Not when I was captured by the Capitol. Not when I was hijacked, when I was insane, when I watched as a bomb exploded and nearly ended my life. And certainly not now when I didn't even know if I would be able to love who I wanted to love.

"So what now? I become a recluse. That person you hear in all those stories about how they just stopped living?" I let the words escape from my mouth in a panic, a fearful panic that there was no hope.

"Peeta, no. Now we try to bring you back. We didn't let them win out there and we won't let them win inside of you." He says. His pen scratches into his papers for a while before he begins to speak again. "Now, I need you to write. You've always had a way with words, and since not many people are here to listen I want you to write to the one person you want to listen. We can't very well take you to her. She's lost too. Broken as well. You saw her. But maybe the idea of talking to her will help. So I'll bring you paper and pencils and you're going to write letters to Katniss. I want you to be brutally honest. Don't leave it out. If you want no one to read them then no one will."

"Would it help if you read them?" I ask.

"Well sure, but not much more than I already get by talking to you. Peeta don't think of this as a way to heal you. Think of it as something for you and you alone." That's when he left and came back with paper five minutes later and that's when the letters began.

Dear Katniss,

Right now I love you. Completely and utterly. I remember back to the first day I saw you. Part of me always thought I loved you because my dad loved your mom and it only felt right to love you, but I don't think that was it. I remember you, with your two braids and your red dress and your sweet voice. I fell in love with you because you were you.

Granted at the age of five I didn't know you. I didn't really know you until that night in the cave, I hope you remember it, when you told me that story about Prim and her goat. I was sick, close to death, and honestly I didn't feel like going on for much longer. I didn't see the point until I saw your eyes and how much brighter they got when you talked about Prim. How you looked like you weren't even there. That's when I truly saw who Katniss Everdeen was. It wasn't because you were showing love or anything like that; it was because you finally put your defenses down. You were no longer the tough girl from the seam that had to fight for her life and didn't care for many people. Suddenly you were real.

I hope you know that my love is much deeper than anything I could ever imagine. I'm sorry this isn't long, I haven't had time to write much lately and my hand gets tired easily. But Katniss, if you're reading this, know how much I wish I could be with you.

Always,

Peeta

So I really want your guy's opinions on how I've been writing, it would be much appreciated.

Also, coming to the end. Gah. I'll explain where I'm going from here in the next few chapters stay with me.

Please REVIEW on the way out! It helps me as a writer and makes me want to write more often! Thanks! ~boywithbreadlover