I'm so insanely sorry for the long wait! I got chicken pox (at 19! So not cool) and I was out of commission for awhile. Anyways, it was fantastic to see all the feedback and reviews I got, you have no idea how much it means to me! A special thank you to my beta, MirageMeister for editing this chapter at super sonic speeds! As always, Enjoy :D

DISCLAIMER: I OWN EVERYTHING! (EXCEPT THR HUNGER GAMES) hehe

Chapter 3

We spend the whole day in the bakery. First, we play a card game that I always lose at, no matter how easy Peeta tries to make it for me. Peeta and his brothers try to teach me how to make pumpernickel bread- a task that is much funnier than it sounds due to their joking comments and good hearted humor. We make small talk about things that don't really matter, laugh at jokes even if they're not really funny. We try to smile, faking grins, and we pretend that the ache in our chest isn't there, that the holes left in our hearts don't hurt.

And eventually, as the day progresses- and after much pretending- we begin to believe it. Our smiles turn real, and our laughs begin to have a bit soul in them. When Mr. Mellark gives his sons the evening off, I laugh heartily along with everyone as Barley runs around the small upper apartment in a near frenzy as he tries to quickly look presentable for his now saved date.

Rye, Peeta, and I go sit on the small porch on the backside of the bakery, sipping lemonade that I had made earlier. When the sun begins to set, Peeta runs inside to grab his spiraled notebook and his small beloved set of colored pencils and charcoal, all of which are whittled down to tiny stubs.

I lean my head back against the frame of bakery, watching as Peeta looks serenely up at the sky, his fingers making a masterpiece as they race across the page. Rye taps his fingers against the wooden floor of the porch, whistling a tune softly to himself.

A tiny smile plays at my lips, and, for a moment, it's like nothing has changed, like I'm still the simple Madge Undersee. It's the one thing I've been craving for more than anything. Well, almost more than anything.

Gale's grey eyes cloud my mind, efficiently banishing my smile and making my breath hitch in my throat. I can almost see my fleeting moment of tranquility wither under his unwavering glare.

Peeta, of course, chooses this moment to look away from the orange tinted sky, his eyes finding mine. The smile on his face disappears in an instant, replaced with a look of concern. I try to smile at him, to show him that I'm fine, but my attempt is futile; he quickly puts his pencils back in their case, placing his notebook on top of it.

"I'm going to walk Madge home," he tells his brother.

I open my mouth to protest, but Peeta pulls me to my feet, taking my hand firmly in his.

Rye nods his head, getting to his feet. "Alright, have a good night Madge," he says, pulling me into another hug.

I always dread the walk home. Leaving the warmth and friendship of the Mellarks, knowing that only silence and solitude await me at my own house. The streets have more people on them than they did when we walked to the bakery earlier in the day, what with people trying to get to their homes and families.

They all stare as I walk past them, the disgust and horror so plain on their faces. The worst is when they look away; when they see me looking back at them, they quickly whip their eyes away, as if I don't deserve to make eye contact with them. I don't know why, but, for some reason, this hurts more than when they stare. Peeta keeps his hand wrapped tightly around mine, a reminder that I'm not completely alone.

We arrive at Victors Village just before the sky becomes completely dark. There's a shrill screech that comes from the Hawthorne's house, followed by a round of childish giggles. I open the heavy door to my house, taking refugee from the sounds of the happy family.

I slump down on the plush sofa that Effie had insisted on having ordered from the Capitol for me. It's a shade of pink she called "blush". It seems too bright a color for a couch, but I had no say in the matter. I have no say in anything anymore.

Peeta sits down next to me, opening his arms. I immediately curl up on his lap, trying to relax as he slowly pets my hair.

"I feel so trapped here," I tell him.

"I know you do, but it'll get better, Madgie."

"No, it won't. Nothing will ever get better because nothing will ever be the same. I thought my life was ruled by the Capitol before, but now I really see how it is to be ruled! I couldn't even decorate my own house, Peeta. Everything here is something someone else picked for me. I can't live with my parents, I can't go to school… I can't just go back to my old life."

My tears spill onto his shirt, but I don't have the energy to apologize for it. "I can't breathe here. Every time I try to, I get choked by the smell of dead roses."

Peeta's arms tighten around me, and I know his about to go into one of his uplifting speeches that will be so persuasive that it will force me to believe everything will miraculously work out. But I don't want to hear it, I don't want to believe, because it only makes it that much harder when I wake up in the morning and find that nothing has changed.

I sigh, disentangling myself from his embrace and walking towards the window , trying to politly show him I'm in no mood for a pep talk.

I peer out from the curtains, looking up at the ever darkening sky. "I wish there was a place that I could feel free."

"That's how Katniss described the woods to me once," He says softly, more to himself than to me. "She said it was the one place where she could breathe."

The woods. I had always held a secret desire to go there, to venture out of the confines of Twelve, past the fence that we were warned never to breach. But, as the mayor's perfect little daughter, I never dared.

"Would you go?" I ask, my eyes looking outside but no longer seeing what is in front of me. In my mind, I begin to envision an unlimited sky and thick forest, teeming with life and singing of freedom.

Peeta blinks his eyes in confusion, "Go where?"

"To the woods," I say, a small smile starting on my face as the vision of this place of refuge begins to grow stronger in my mind.

"Are you joking? Why in the world would you want to go out there?" He asks, his tone completely incredulous.

Just thinking about this new place for me to breathe causes my lips to turn upwards even more. Out in the open air, with no Peacekeepers, no people staring as I past, the sound of the Hawthornes' laughter and joy so far behind me.

"Would you go with me?" I repeat, turning to look at Peeta from the window. I look at my friend expectantly, thinking that he would share some of my joy at the realization of this potential freedom.

"Madge, we wouldn't last three seconds in those woods! There are wild dogs and bears and snakes and who knows what else!" Peeta rambles, an uncertain and slightly scared look in his blue eyes, "And what would we do if we got caught? The punishment for crossing the fence is death."

Peeta's words of reasoning begin to shut down the vision of my utopia, and my mind desperately snatches at it before it can fade away into the oblivion of my mind.

"Please, Peeta," I plead, grabbing both his hands in mine as I sit next to him again. My mouth spews out words desperately, "We'll go early in morning, before the Peacekeepers make their usual rounds. We won't be gone too long, I swear! We can go tomorrow-"

"Tomorrow? Madge, tomorrow is Sunday," He looks at me expectantly, as if that means something tremendously important.

I open my mouth to respond but the words get stuck in my throat. Sunday. The day that Katniss and Gale would bring me strawberries. Their hunting day.

"They traded with your father today. Which means that they won't be going out there tomorrow," I say as logically as I can, but even deep down I am skeptical myself.

"They always go on Sundays. They've probably been stock piling since school starts again soon. That's probably why they had enough squirrels to trade today. But I'm sure they'll be out hunting again tomorrow," Peeta answers, still doubtful.

"Then we'll go after they come back. Still early in the day but not as early as them."

"And what do we say if we bump into them out there? Well, hello there, please don't shoot us with your bow and arrows, we were just looking around," He says sarcastically to me, frustration seeping into his voice.

I shake my head, refusing to believe that that could happen, "Please, Peeta. I need to get out of here, if only for a few hours."

My tone is filled with such desperation that he looks down at me, his eyes filled with worry. "What if something sets off another memory?"

I wince at his words, withdrawing my hands from his. "That doesn't happen anymore; it was only in the beginning, but I'm better now. I haven't had one in days. You know that."

"I do know that, but do you really want to push yourself that far?" He says, the frustration that was in his voice mere moments ago now replaced with concern.

"I'll be fine," I insist again, my tone indicating that I didn't want to talk anymore about the subject. "I promise."

He sighs, rubbing his hand over his face. "Fine, we'll go tomorrow."

"Really?" I say, my face lighting up.

He smiles slightly, nodding his head once.

"Thank you, Peeta!" I throw my arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly.

He laughs in my ear, hugging me back before letting me go. "On one condition: you try to get some rest tonight. And I mean really try."

"I will, I promise." I say, my face lightly up with a smile.

We decide that Peeta will come fetch me at seven o'clock, right around the time Gale and Katniss are usually leaving the woods. We will stick moderately close to the fence, and we won't stay longer than two hours.

"Alright then, I'll see you bright and early," Peeta says as he rises from his chair.

I nod my head, an excited smile on my face. "It'll be fun. You'll see."

He mumbles something I don't catch, but he still gives me a smile and a hug before he bids me good night and leaves. I bite my lip as I hear the door close, the excitement and hope leaving my body almost immediately.

It's the same thing every night: when Peeta leaves and I'm all alone here in this grand house, I can't help but feel the pain, the hurt, the agony. The shame. The blood of twenty-two children is on my hands, even those who I didn't kill, who I've never even spoken a word to. They are all gone from this world, dead, buried ten feet below the ground.

I lay on the couch, pulling my knees up to my chest. I don't know why this always happens when I'm alone at night. Maybe it's the darkness, or maybe the silence that makes it so easy for the memories to flood back to me.

I close my eyes tightly, trying in desperation to remember the image of Thresh, Rue, and all the others in the white room with light shining in on all of them. They told me to be happy and to not feel guilty. But how can I not, when I am parading around my big empty house while their still bodies lay in a rotting wooden casket below everyone's feet?

My eyes fly open and I jump to feet, lunging for my piano. I trip on the golden rug that feels like nails against my bare feet, catching myself on the edge of the piano bench.

I don't bother searching for sheet music, instead slamming my fingers down noisily on the keys, forcing away the sounds of screaming little girls and screeching pink birds. I force myself not to blink, focusing only on the ivory keys in front of me. If I blink, if I close my eyes for more than a second, I'll see them. I'll see Rue with a spear sticking out of her, Thresh with that bloody arrow protruding from his body.

The music plays louder, my fingers and wrists aching from the misuse I've put them through these last few days. I'm sure my fingertips are beginning to bruise; they feel tender as I slam them against the keys. The louder I play, the faster the notes pour out of me, which makes it easier it is to tune out their screams, their moans, their last dying words. I don't know how long I play, but, when I stop, my cheeks are soaking wet with tears, and my hands ache.

I look up cautiously at my window, noting that the sky is still pitch black. The promise I made to Peeta rings in my ears, and I grudgingly stand up from the piano bench, my bones making a cracking sound as I stretch out my limbs.

I climb up the stairs to my bedroom in a daze, fear already running ramped through my body. Fear of laying down and listening to this gigantic vacant house, fear that my nightmares will plague me once again.

I don't bother changing out of the sundress I wore all day, instead I throw myself under the covers, pulling the bedspread high above my head.

I close my eyes tightly, saying soothing words to myself since no one else is here to say them to me. "It's alright," I tell myself aloud, "I'm safe here. I'm safe."

I don't know why it feels like such a lie.

Darkness. Everywhere, everything is darkness. Pitch black without a scrap of light, without a sliver of hope.

And then the screams begin. First is a girl's, someone whose voice I don't recognize, but still I try to find her, yelling at the top of my lungs, "Where are you? Where are you!?"

Her voice drifts off, fading into the nothingness as I search in the sea of black. A canon sounds.

A boy's scream is next, loud and strong and full of agony. I cry out to him as I did with the girl, but his creams of cut short by the sound of the canon. And then the little girl's begins. Her voice cuts in though the darkness, and Iknow with utmost certainty who she is.

"RUE!" I shriek at the top of my lungs, running after the sound of her voice.

"Madge! Help me, Madge!"

"Rue! I'm coming, Rue!"

A new scream overlaps hers, his voice with a deep timber to it.

"Thresh!" I yell out, stopping in my tracks as I hear his screams of pain. "Thresh!"

"Madge!" he screams as Rue's voice grows even louder.

"Help me!" she cries.

"Rue! Thresh! Hang on!" I turn in circles, in a frenzy as I try to pick out where both of them are.

Another male scream pierces through the air, this one so achingly familiar I feel my bones begin to rattle. "Madgie!"

"Peeta!" I howl, running around in circles as the screams go louder.

My father, mother, Peeta, Ronan, Gale, Marina, Cato, Darius, Rye, Rue, Haymitch, Thresh, Barley, Maysilee.

All of them screaming, all of them in pain. As more screams start, the canons sound loudly. A canon booms, and Rue's screams end just as Katniss' begin. A never ending cycle of pain and death. A never-ending stream of people I can't save.

I fall to my knees, my head in my hands as they cry out my name, as they beg me to help them. I surrender to the sounds of their screams and the darkness.

I can't help them, I can't save them. I can't even save myself.

I awake to the sound of my front door closing. "Madge! Hey, Madgie, you up yet?"

My eyes flash open as I hear Peeta's footsteps and then his fist knocking on my closed bedroom door. "You awake?"

"Yes!" I call back as I quickly throw off my blanket. "I'm up, just give me a minute."

I swiftly tear off the dress I'm still wearing, shaking off last night's nightmare as I search my closet for something suitable to wear.

Mostly everything in my closet is dainty sundresses or blouses, but, finally, in the far back of my closet, I find a pair of sturdy looking brown pants. I throw them on over a pair of clean undergarments, putting on a short sleeved forest green shirt as well. Hidden behind mounds of heels, sandals, and flats is a pair of brown leather lace up boots that end a few inches below my knees. I pull the boots on over some clean socks, lacing them up as fast as I can. Unable to find a hair brush, I comb my fingers through my hair, tying it back into a ponytail.

Peeta knocks on my door again, and I swing it open, a smile on my face. "Let's go."

Peeta forces me to eat one of the cheese buns he brought before he finally allows me to pull him out of the house; although, because it absolutely delicious, it's a sweet kind of torture.

The sky is a muted pink color, the sun hidden behind a mask of clouds. We cut through the meadow as we make our way to the fence that we were taught to never cross.

My excitement at the thought of going outside of District Twelve quickly begins to fade as we continue to walk. In fact, the closer we get to it the more nervous I become.

What if something happens to us? What if we're caught? What if we see Katniss and Gale out there? All valid fears that Peeta had tried to explain to me last night. But, of course, I wasn't truly listening to him at the time: I was too wrapped up in the idea of breathing fresh air, of feeling free for just a moment.

By the time the fence is actually in view, my whole body is shaking. You can't turn back now, I tell myself, you survived the Games… if you can do that then you can face whatever is behind that fence.

I risk a glance at Peeta, trying to see if he's as nervous as I am. Miraculously, he actually seems to looking excited rather than fearful. Peeta is no coward by anyone's definition, but he is usually the logical one when it comes to adventures such as this.

My breath hitches as we stop in front of the fence. Peeta leans his ear closer to the fence, as if trying to hear if the electricity is on.

"It's off," I tell him, proud that my voice doesn't betray my nerves. "My father only turns the fence on when there are people visiting from the Capitol."

It's only one of the things my father does to try to help his people as much as he can. He knows that some people rely on the food that the woods can provide, and he always tries to leave the fence off for as long as possible.

Peeta nods once then takes a few steps back, his forehead creasing as it always does when he's thinking.

"What's wrong?" I ask him.

"How do you suppose we should get over it?"

"Oh," I say, "there's a hole in the fence somewhere, that what Kat-" I instantly close my mouth, giving Peeta an apologetic glance.

He nods again anyways, although I just barely catch the pain that flashes in his eyes. "Alright, then we look for the hole?"

I nod once, biting my lip in self-chastisement as we begin walking along side the fence.

It doesn't take long at all to find the opening; the hole is big enough for a large sized man to fit through. Peeta goes in first, motioning for me to follow. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my resolve, and quickly step into the opening before I can talk myself out of it.

Peeta helps me to my feet, and I am brushing off the dead leaves from my pant legs when I look up. It's better than I ever imagined. Even from staring into the woods all my life, it has never prepared me for this.

The woods itself is alive. It's teeming with trees and bushes and animals all making noises. The bird sing to one another and sing. Squirrels make little chattering sounds. The foliage all around us is beautiful, green in every shade imaginable.

I turn around to look at Peeta, a mystified grin on my face. He laughs at my expression, his eyes hesitant as they look around us, but still I can see the wonder in them.

The sudden need to see it all, to drink it all in overcomes me, and I forget my promise to Peeta that we'll stay close to the fence. I grab Peeta's hand, pulling him deep into the woods. He doesn't object, although I see him eyeing the distancing fence the farther we get.

A butterfly flutters above me, and I let go of Peeta's hand as I try to watch it flutter out of sight. I hear the wind whistling through the trees, honeybees buzzing in their hives. I jump and twirl around, laughing and smiling as I dance to the melody that the forest provides.

I grab Peeta's hand, and he dances with me, twirling me around in a circle.

"I haven't seen you smile like that in a long time," he tells me, a sweet grin on his face.

I laugh, "I haven't felt like this in a long time."

And it's true. For the first time in a very long time, I don't feel the weight of the world crushing me. I don't feel the guilt, the pain, the shame of everything that has happened. For just this one moment, I am free from it all. For just this one moment I am Madge Undersee again.

I feel my smile grow even more than I thought possible. We pass a small open field of wildflowers, and I stop at an overgrown berry bush.

"Careful, they might be poisonous," Peeta says.

I shake my head, "No, they're not poisonous. They're damson berries."

The same berries that my mother used to bake into pies, the same berries that I found in the Games. I pick off one of the berries but drop it to the ground. I don't want anything to remind me of the Arena here.

"Let's keep moving," My voice catches slightly, but Peeta doesn't say anything about it.

We go a little further into the woods, stopping underneath an old oak tree.

"I love the smell of oak," I say, inhaling the woodly smell deeply.

Peeta laughs, "Oak doesn't have a smell."

"Oh, yes it does. How can you not sme-" my words are cut off when I look up at the branches of the tree to find a nest.

A mockingjay nest. A mother bird sits in her bed oftwigs, her black features magnificent as ever.

Instinctively my hand goes up to my necklace, the one that Cinna gave me that has Rue's star pendent on it. I haven't taken it off since I got home.

"Little bird," I murmur quietly, remembering how much Rue was like a mockingjay herself. How she could soar through the tress like she was one of them.

"You okay?" Peeta asks, rubbing his hand up and down my arm soothingly.

"Yes," I say, trying to make it sound more truthful than it really is.

I then take off running, trying to rid myself of the image of a dead little girl and force myself to enjoy the fresh air and freedom while I can. Peeta calls out to me to slow down and I stop to let him catch up, closing my eyes and taking in a deep breath. It's been weeks since my last free breath.

"Gee, Madgie, thanks for waiting for me," Peeta says sarcastically as he reaches my side, his breathing labored and his face flushed.

I laugh, shaking my head at him in mock disapproval, "You need to get in better shape, Dough Boy."

He rolls his eyes at my use of the play-yard nickname that he hated growing up. I giggle, opening my mouth to tease him some more when I hear the distinct sound of voices coming our way.

Peeta's face loses color, and I feel the smile vanish from my face. Quickly and wordlessly, I pull Peeta down to hide behind a large bush that is flanked by two bulky trees.

My heart begins to beat faster, and I feel my palms become sweaty in fear. Stooping down here, surrounded by foliage and wild life, panic running through my veins. For a terrifying moment I'm back in the arena, dread lodged in my throat, my forehead sweaty in anxiety, waiting for Cato to pounce.

But when the owners of the voices finally emerge, instead of finding myself at the mercy the murderous boy from district Two, I find my heart breaking as I watch the scene unfold before me.

They're walking close together again, Katniss's head down as she speaks. She's saying something about the snare line and setting up a new schedule for checking it since school is starting. But I can tell that her audience is less than interested in what she has to say. Gale's gaze is forward, his body tense, his eyes a gloomy grey.

They stop just in front of our hiding place, Katniss turning around to face Gale as she asks him a question.

A question that Gale doesn't hear, even though he is staring down at her with so much intensity in his eyes. I know what's going to happen, I know what he will do next, but still the knowledge of it doesn't help lessen the sharp pang in my chest as I see him lean down.

He kisses her. He presses those lips that-not too long ago, moved against mine- on hers. He kisses her, and it's not for sponsors or cameras or any other reason other than he wants to.

And she kisses him back. I can see, even though her hands stay firmly at her sides. how she leans in to him, how she tilts her head up towards his. And it kills me.

Gale breaks away first, leaning his forehead against hers, "I had to do that. Just one time."

He leaves without another word, walking away back towards the fence without a glance back.

Katniss does not leave so easily, instead she seems frozen in place, her fingers slowly tracing the outline of her lips. I have never felt true jealousy until now. Finally, she walks slowly away, but, instead of heading back home, she heads deeper into the forest, hand still pressed against her mouth.

We don't move. We stay locked in our crouching position, our legs already falling asleep, but neither of us willing to move. Willing to let it sink in, to acknowledge the fact that whatever we once believed in, whatever ounce of hope we were once vainly holding on to is now crushed. There's no going back from here.

Peeta is the first to get up, standing clumsily to his feet. "Come on, let's go home."

His voice is numb and vacant as he offers his hand to me. When I make no move to take it, he stoops down beside me again, stroking the side of my face.

"Let's go home," he says again, this time letting some of the pain flow into his voice.

I nod, but my limbs refuse to move, too wild to my desire to just go back home. Peeta helps me up, pulling me to my feet.

The moment I'm standing upright, I throw my arms around his waist, crushing my body against his. He wraps his arms around me, and I feel his chest shake as he tries to calm himself.

"It's not like it's that big of a surprise," he says, his tone full of self-hatred and ache.

It's not a surprise at all. I shut my eyes tight, trying to suppress the image of how they molded together, the fire in his eyes as he leaned down. How different it was from any kiss he had ever given me.

And suddenly the fresh air that was a moment ago so precious seems to be suffocating me. I can't be here anymore; I can't stand mere feet from where they stood. And so I do what I do best. I run.

Eek I know painful right? I'm sorry they had to see this too, but I hope you don't hate me too much for putting Madge and Peeta in agonizing pain! Alrighty so love it? Hate it? PLEASE REVIEW! Kisses from Peeta/Gale(that is if you don't hate him too much right now)

P.S. Basium is Latin for kiss, in case anyone was wondering about the odd chapter title :D