Hello everyone! OMG GUYS WE GOT 3 REVIEWS ON THE LAST ONE! THANKYOU ALL SO MUCH! I ALSO VERY MUCH APPRECIATE THE FAVORITES

This is a fairly boring chapter but you need this information :) I'll be nice and put the next one up soon!

For this chapter I hope to finally get those 5 reviews!~ :P

Replies: Milarqui That's true... Well this chapter certainly will put a damper on that:D

A quick message from me: This is my first story to upload on fanfic, PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW!

Random disclaimer: Suzanne Collins Owns Hunger games. I am merely rewriting it as if Katniss were stronger along with Peeta.

Enjoy!


As I stride toward the elevator, I fling my bow to one side and my quiver to the other. I brush past the gaping Avoxes who guard the elevators and hit the number twelve button with my fist. The doors slide together and I zip upward. I actually make it back to my floor without breaking something. I can hear the others calling me from the sitting room, but I fly down the hall into my room, bolt the door, and fling myself onto my bed.

Now I've done it! Now I've ruined everything! If I'd stood even a ghost of chance, it vanished when I sent that arrow flying at the Gamemakers. What will they do to me now? Arrest me? Execute me? Cut my tongue and turn me into an Avox so I can wait on the future tributes of Panem? What was I thinking, shooting at the Gamemakers? Of course, I wasn't, I was shooting at that apple because I was so angry at being ignored. I wasn't trying to kill one of them. If I were, they'd be dead!

Peeta eventually comes, he knocks on the door for what seems like forever before he realizes I'm not letting him in. When Effie taps on the door to call me to dinner, I decide I may as well go. The scores will be televised tonight. It's not like I can hide what happened forever.

The adults begin some chitchat about the weather forecast, and I let my eyes meet Peeta's. He raises his eyebrows. A question. What happened? I just give my head a small shake. Then, as they're serving the main course, I hear Haymitch say, "Okay, enough small talk, just how bad were you today?"

Peeta jumps in. "I don't know that it mattered. By the time I showed up, no one even bothered to look at me. They were singing some kind of drinking song, I think. So, I threw around some heavy objects and destroyed a few dummies with a mace until they told me I could go."

That makes me feel a bit better. It's not like Peeta attacked the Gamemakers, but at least he was provoked, too.

"And you, sweetheart?" says Haymitch.

Somehow Haymitch calling me sweetheart ticks me off enough that I'm at least able to speak. "I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers."

Everyone stops eating. "You what?" The horror in Effie's voice confirms my worse suspicions.

"I shot an arrow at them. Not exactly at them. In their direction. It's like Peeta said, I was shooting and they were ignoring me and I just. I just lost my head, so I shot an apple out of their stupid roast pig's mouth!" I say defiantly.

"And what did they say?" says Cinna carefully.

"Nothing. Or I don't know. I walked out after that," I say.

"Without being dismissed?" gasps Effie.

"I dismissed myself," I said. I remember how I promised Prim that I really would try to win and I feel like a ton of coal has dropped on me.

"Well, that's that," says Haymitch. Then he butters a roll.

"Do you think they'll arrest me?" I ask. "Doubt it. Be a pain to replace you at this stage," says Haymitch.

"More likely they'll make your life hell in the arena."

"Well, they've already promised to do that to us any way," says Peeta.

"Very true," says Haymitch. And I realize the impossible has happened. They have actually cheered me up. Haymitch picks up a pork chop with his fingers, which makes Effie frown, and dunks it in his wine. He rips off a hunk of meat and starts to chuckle. "What were their faces like?"

I can feel the edges of my mouth tilting up. "Shocked. Terrified. Uh, ridiculous, some of them." An image pops into my mind. "One man tripped backward into a bowl of punch."

Haymitch guffaws and we all start laughing except Effie, although even she is suppressing a smile. "Well, it serves them right. It's their job to pay attention to you. And just because you come from District Twelve is no excuse to ignore you." Then her eyes dart around as if she's said something totally outrageous. "I'm sorry, but that's what I think," she says to no one in particular.

"I'll get a very bad score," I say.

"Scores only matter if they're very good, no one pays much attention to the bad or mediocre ones. For all they know, you could be hiding your talents to get a low score on purpose. People use that strategy," said Portia.

"I hope that's how people interpret the four I'll probably get," says Peeta. "If that. Really, is anything less impressive than watching a person pick up a heavy ball and throw it a couple of yards? One almost landed on my foot."

I grin at him and realize that I'm starving. I cut off a piece of pork, dunk it in mashed potatoes, and start eating. It's okay. My family is safe. And if they are safe, no real harm has been done.

After dinner, we go to sitting room to watch the scores announced on television. First they show a photo of the tribute, then flash their score below it. The Career Tributes naturally get in the eight-to-ten range. Most of the other players average a five. Surprisingly, little Rue comes up with a seven. I don't know what she showed the judges, but she's so tiny it must have been impressive.

District 12 comes up last, as usual. Peeta pulls a ten. Instantly everyone is congratulating him. Over all the praise mine is what makes him smile. "When the hell did you learn to use a mace?" We were both smiling.

Eventually we regained our focus, just in time to see my score. A four. Nobody comments. I realized I should be embarrassed, but in truth I didn't care. Peeta sees that I'm not upset and smiles his goofy smile.

Cinna gets up and gives me a reassuring hug. "Oh, wait until you see your interview dress." "More flames?" I ask. "Of a sort," he says mischievously.

As everyone leaves from the room Peeta stays behind with me. "A four? It doesn't make sense. You deserve a higher score." I regrettably blush at his words.

"I did shoot at them Peeta." We both chuckle quietly at the thought.

"Katniss. About tomorrow-"He trails off.

"What about it?" I smile back to him, asking him for him to continue.

"I have to do something. I know you aren't going to like it. Just know that I'm doing it for you." He reaches up and brushes his hand along my jaw. It isn't enough to distract me though.

I shove his hand away. "What are you doing Peeta?" I gazed firmly into his eyes. I refused to notice their colour. Peeta sighed and turned.

"I can't tell you." As if it wasn't torture enough he left, leaving me in the darkness. Peeta won't save me from the nightmares tonight.

Effie's knocking at the door, reminding me there's another "big, big, big day!" ahead. Tomorrow night will be our televised interviews. I guess the whole team will have their hands full readying us for that.

I get up and take a quick shower, being a bit more careful about the buttons I hit, and head down to the dining room. Peeta, Effie, and Haymitch are huddled around the table talking in hushed voices. That seems odd, but hunger wins out over curiosity and I load up my plate with breakfast before I join them.

The stew's made with tender chunks of lamb and dried plums today. Perfect on the bed of wild rice. I've shovelled about halfway through the mound when I realize no one's talking. I take a big gulp of orange juice and wipe my mouth. "So, what's going on? You're coaching us on interviews today, right?"

"That's right," says Haymitch.

"You don't have to wait until I'm done. I can listen and eat at the same time," I say.

"Well, there's been a change of plans. About our current approach," says Haymitch.

"What's that?" I ask. I'm not sure what our current approach is. Trying to appear mediocre in front of the other tributes is the last bit of strategy I remember.

Haymitch shrugs. "Peeta has asked to be coached separately."


Stupid Peeta *slaps forehead angrily*

Alas the end of the chapter! do not fret however! If you manage to get 5 reviews I'll have another chapter up tommorow!

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