Hello everyone! Thanks for all the reviews, it makes me so happy to hear from you guys! Love you all (so hows your day going? I hope its good!)

It really inspires me to write from hearing from you guys! so Imma ask you some questions to help you out:

Should I write catching fire once I ? Or skip to the part in Mockingjay where Peeta is crazy (I've been looking forward to writing that part :D)

I'm sad that not as many of you are wanting to share your opinion on my story (review) :( I'm not sure if it's because it's bad or you just don't wanna write a review, alas the show must go on, I will continue updating, even if we get 0 reviews. Thankyou to everyone who has stuck with me~!

A quick message from me: 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!


I wasn't entirely sure of anything when I woke. I was in a pristine white room. I didn't move though. There was something wrong with me. I realised I was crying. Why was I crying? I couldn't remember. My sobs became louder at this, I was so confused. I thought for a while trying to remember, but then again, maybe I shouldn't remember. I knew I had to find someone though.

I threw back the sheets and stood, realising I was wearing some very plain clothes. These were not my clothes. I walked to the wall I thought a door would be but there was none. Strange.

I called out. "Hello?"

Silence. No response. I began to get agitated. I really needed to find this Person. I needed to find Peeta. Yes that was this boy's name. I searched the other three walls and they all turned out to be the same. I started feeling the walls, maybe there was a latch or a false wall. There was a section on the original wall that felt rougher, I supposed it was a different material just covered with the same white. I pressed against it, it didn't give. I knew I should be abel to break this. I looked aroudnt he room. The only thing was the bed. I grimaced. Unless the rails would detach.

I treaded up to the bed and looked for a lever to detach the rails. I didn't find one so I just yanked it off. It worked! I ran over to the wall and began hitting it. The rail worked well. Soon the material, which turned out to be some kind of door, bent enough that I would be able to squeeze through it. I finally managed to stop crying. Only a few whimpers every now and then.

I threw the rail away and crawled out. I emerged in a very bright hallway. I didn't know where to go, but there weren't many options. I decided to try my right first. A few doors down I heard a familiar voice. I bust open the door and there they were Effie, Haymitch, and Cinna.

"Well done, sweetheart." Haymitch congratulated me. I don't even think he was being sarcastic.

"Where's Peeta?" It all came back of course, every morsel of information from the games. I felt like crying again. I would wait for Peeta first.

"He's fine. Only they want to do your reunion live on air at the ceremony," says Haymitch.

"Go on with Cinna. He has to get you ready," says Haymitch.

It's a relief to be alone with Cinna, to feel his protective arm around my shoulders as he guides me away from them, down a few passages and to an elevator that leads to the lobby of the Training Center. The hospital then is far underground, even beneath the gym where the tributes practiced tying knots and throwing spears. The windows of the lobby are darkened, and a handful of guards stand on duty. No one else is there to see us cross to the tribute elevator. Our footsteps echo in the emptiness. And when we ride up to the twelfth floor, the faces of all the tributes who will never return flash across my mind and there's a heavy, tight place in my chest.

Cinna hands me over to my prep team. They exclaim about how well the capital fixed me up after the Arena. I didn't listen. I was so looking forward to seeing Peeta again that I hardly noticed when they left.

Cinna comes in with what appears to be an unassuming yellow dress across his arms.

"Have you given up the whole 'girl on fire' thing?" I ask.

"You tell me," he says, and slips it over my head. I immediately notice the padding over my breasts, adding curves that hunger has stolen from my body. My hands go to my chest and I frown.

"I know," says Cinna before I can object. "But the Gamemakers wanted to alter you surgically. Haymitch had a huge fight with them over it. This was the compromise." He stops me before I can look at my reflection. "Wait, don't forget the shoes." Venia helps me into a pair of flat leather sandals and I turn to the mirror.

I am still the "girl on fire." The sheer fabric softly glows. Even the slight movement in the air sends a ripple up my body. By comparison, the chariot costume seems garish, the interview dress too contrived. In this dress, I give the illusion of wearing candlelight.

"What do you think?" asks Cinna.

"I think it's the best yet," I say. When I manage to pull my eyes away from the flickering fabric, I'm in for something of a shock. My hair's loose, held back by a simple hairband. The makeup rounds and fills out the sharp angles of my face. A clear polish coats my nails. The sleeveless dress is gathered at my ribs, not my waist, largely eliminating any help the padding would have given my figure. The hem falls just to my knees. Without heels, you can see my true stature. I look, very simply, like a girl. A young one. Fourteen at the most. Innocent. Harmless. Yes, it is shocking that Cinna has pulled this off when you remember I've just won the Games.

This is a very calculated look. Nothing Cinna designs is arbitrary. I bite my lip trying to figure out his motivation.

"I thought it'd be something more. sophisticated-looking," I say.

"I thought Peeta would like this better," he answers carefully.

Peeta? No, it's not about Peeta. It's about the Capitol and the Gamemakers and the audience. Although I do not yet understand Cinna's design, it's a reminder the Games are not quite finished. And beneath his benign reply, I sense a warning. Of something he can't even mention in front of his own team.

We take the elevator to the level where we trained. It's customary for the victor and his or her support team to rise from beneath the stage. Cinna and the prep team peel off to change into their own costumes and take their positions, leaving me alone. In the gloom, I see a makeshift wall about ten yards away and assume Peeta's behind it.

The rumbling of the crowd is loud, so I don't notice Haymitch until he touches my shoulder. I spring away, startled, still half in the arena, I guess.

"Easy, just me. Let's have a look at you," Haymitch says. I hold out my arms and turn once. "Good enough."

It's not much of a compliment. "But what?" I say.

Haymitch's eyes shift around my musty holding space, and he seems to make a decision. "But nothing. How about a hug for luck?"

Okay, that's an odd request from Haymitch but, after all, we are victors. Maybe a hug for luck is in order. Only, when I put my arms around his neck, I find myself trapped in his embrace. He begins talking, very fast, very quietly in my ear, my hair concealing his lips.

"Listen up. You're in trouble. Word is the Capitol's furious about what happened in the arena. They aren't happy about the negativity to you torturing Cato," says Haymitch.

I feel dread coursing through me now, but I laugh as though Haymitch is saying something completely delightful because nothing is covering my mouth. "So, what? I had to do it Haymitch. For Peeta."

"Katniss. Do you love him?"

I was stunned. That alien feeling remerged, was that it? The beginnings of love. I took half a second and decided just to answer. Whatever the first answer is that comes to my head. "Yes."

Haymitch grinned and patted me on the back. "Then show them." He kisses me on the forehead and disappears into the gloom.

I tug on my skirt, willing it to be longer, wanting it to cover the knocking in my knees. Then I realize it's pointless. My whole body's shaking like a leaf. Hopefully, it will be put down to excitement. After all, it's my night.

What can be so bad about that? That's what they want. Almost all the districts want to see tributes get brutally murdered. Why was I different?

I wondered why Haymitch wanted me to show my love for Peeta. Was this how he thought I would calm them? I did kill Cato for Peeta. I had no doubt about that. For Prim and Peeta. There was no other reason. I killed Cato for the two people I loved more than my own life.

These are questions to be unravelled back home, in the peace and quiet of the woods, when no one is watching. Not here with every eye upon me. But I won't have that luxury for who knows how long. And right now, the most dangerous part of the Hunger Games is about to begin.


Alas the end of the chapter! do not fret however! I'll have another chapter up tommorow!

Links:

If you're interested in hunger games check out my take on it! (What if Katniss and Peeta were stronger emotionally AND physically? Would they still fall in love? Would Katniss be able to stand this stronger Peeta? My take on The Hunger Games. Please review!)

s/9666522/1/Everybody-has-to-be-stronger-A-Hunger- games-rewrite

If you're interested in host check out my take on it! (What if Ian was captured and inserted with a soul? Would Ian and Wanda get back together, or would the Soul turn them all over! Find out now!)

s/9672281/1/Keeping-Promises

If you're interested in Twilight check out my take on it! (What if Bella had been a vampire before she moved to forks? Edward's and Bella's POV)

s/9677957/1/Vampiric-from-the-beggining

Check out my blog! (replace () with .)

flightwritings()wordpress()com

Oh so you wanted to review? Well look no further! (just follow the arrows reader) \/

\/

Nearly there

\/

PRESS THE BUTTTTTONNNNNNNN!

\/