Chapter 3

My sleep is restless that night. I am consumed with images of Peeta. Fractured dreams of a future we have no choice to share. We live in the Victor's village, and there is a blue eyed, dark haired little girl running around our feet. Her younger brother, a blonde haired, grey eyed sits on Peeta's lap. I stand at the kitchen sink, washing dishes. The little girl tugs at my pants, asking me to play with her but I shake my head. The Games have destroyed me. My eyes are empty, my face drawn. Even Peeta's voice is lower, and weary. I cannot look at him or our children because it is just a reminder. Of what we have done. Of what they might have to go through one day because of us.

It is then that I wake up, dripping in sweat, tangled in my sheets. I can tell that it's still early and that I have a few hours before Effie comes to wake me up. But I still get up out of bed because I don't want to fall asleep again.

When I leave, I make sure I am quiet. Peeta's room is only a few doors away and I'm scared he will see me awake and insist on hovering by me when all I want to do is be alone. I know that like me he never sleeps. Like me, he is tormented by nightmares.

I reach one of the dining carriages and to my relief, there is no one up yet working. I make myself a cup of hot water and add syrup and honey to it until it is overly sweet. In District 12, we don't get these kinds of luxuries so whenever I am on one of these Capitol trains, I try to make the most of it.

I sit back in one of the booths and roll up the window shades. Shallow light creeps in and I lose myself in the sight of what must be the countryside of District 11. There is a sheet of snow that covers everything and the sky is grey and murky.

"Couldn't sleep either?"

I jump at the voice but to my relief, it's only Haymitch. He looks like he has just rolled out of bed. His dark hair is a mess and there are large bags under his eyes. He immediately heads for the table of coloured liquids and I narrow my eyes at him. I am the most understanding when it comes to Haymitch's alcoholism but it's not even 7:00 in the morning. There must be some boundaries.

He sees my objection and with a sigh, puts the bottle he picked up back down. "Jeez Everdeen, the things I do for you." He takes a seat opposite me and runs a hand through his hair. "You gotta put it out of your mind today. Focus on what you can do and not what you can't."

I don't say anything. We sit there for a while and just watch as the train enters the heart of District 11. When the clock ticks over 7, Effie and Peeta enter the carriage. Effie looks her usual, bright self but Peeta looks as tired as Haymitch and me. But he's had time to make himself look a little better, combing back his blonde hair and dressing himself in a nice pair of dress pants and a fancy long brown coat. He sidles in next to me without a word and one of the attendants that have just entered automatically make him a hot chocolate. He takes it with a nod and begins to sip it slowly. It's one of the things Peeta has become truly fond of since we first arrived in The Capitol, so much so he has it every morning. As Effie runs over the protocol for the day, the real breakfast arrives. Stacks of golden buttery toast and flaky cakes that dissolve in our mouths. A tray of fresh bakes muffins and a pot of orange juice. Haymitch holds his head in his hands and I can see it's not just his hangover giving him a headache. My stomach rumbles at the sight of the food and within minutes, I have devoured a few cakes and a glass of juice. But then I am feeling sick so I refuse any more, even when they try to persuade me with some of my favourites. It's not long before my prep team comes and collects me, taking me away from breakfast to fix me up. They show me the gorgeous orange gown I will be wearing today. It's beautiful, it really is but I can't help thinking that this dress is probably worth more than someone in District 11 makes in a year.

There are long sleeves on it, made of delicate lace and my grazes are invisible underneath thankfully. Flavius brought out a small bottle of skin coloured liquid at one point, ready to cover them up but Octavia talked him out of it, telling him it would only make them sting. They do my makeup and arrange my hair how my mother showed me. Then they leave me for a bit, and I sit down on the floor of the bathroom, gazing up at my dress, covered in only a robe.

I could grow to love Peeta one day. I know this for certain. I think back to the kisses that made me want more and then I know that it is inevitable that Peeta and I will grow back to being with one another. But I am haunted by the images from this morning. I realise there is a difference between willingly falling in love with Peeta and being open to a future with him and being forced to marry and procreate for the sake of The Capitol. If it is not my choice, we will surely become those people with the empty eyes. Our forced marriage would destroy us.

The door creaks open but I don't even look their way. I know before who it is before they have sat down. The heavy tread of his mechanical leg gives Peeta away.

He slumps down beside me and we sit in silence for a moment. Finally he says, "It's a beautiful dress. For a beautiful girl."

I hate when Peeta says stuff like this. He always has to be so noble and kind. When he speaks like this, the guilt surrounding my betrayal with Gale grows larger.

"What do you want Peeta?" I regret the words as soon as they come out of my mouth. I don't that many friends that I can afford to push away the people who actually care about me.

"Effie was wondering where you were." He sits next to me on the bathroom tiles and together we gaze up at my gown that hangs from the light fitting. "I wanted talk to you. If you'll let me."

I stay quiet and he takes this as me allowing him to go right ahead. His hand brushes over mine and I jump, my gaze finally meeting his.

"I don't want us to be like this Katniss," he says. "If we can't, if you can't – " He looks away. "Then let's just be friends. It'll make it easier for us to do this charade. I want you to think of me as someone you can trust, as someone who cares about you. Can you do that?"

I nod, losing myself in those blue eyes of his. I want to tell him about Snow, even about Gale. I want to apologise for lying to him in the Games, for putting him in danger by what I have done. But I can't. It would just hurt him more.

"Good," he answers. He stands up with difficulty, his mechanical leg making things hard for him. He's at the door when he looks back not at me but at the dress. "You're going to look amazing in that." And then he leaves me.

"Breathe Katniss," Peeta tells me as he rubs my back comfortingly. But it doesn't seem logical – breathing that is. The sound of the bullet being released into the back of that man's head keeps ringing in my ears. As soon as we came inside, I rushed to the bathroom to throw up. Now I'm standing over the kitchen sink, trying to drink the bottle of water Peeta handed me.

How many more deaths will I be responsible for?

"It's because of what we said, isn't it?" I whisper to him.

"Because of what I said," he corrects. His hand leaves my back and I hear his footsteps retreat. The smashing of glass makes me rear my head up.

Peeta is pacing and I can see the remnants of a vase he has chucked around his feet. "You should've told me," he thunders. "You two can't do this to me anymore. You can't keep things like this from me."

I look across the room at Haymitch who seems only mildly surprised at Peeta's outburst. He raises his eyebrows at me as if to say 'Your move Everdeen.'

Peeta storms over to me, grabbing me by the shoulders. "You promised you wouldn't lie to me."

I look everywhere but at him. He shakes me until I finally meet his eyes. His eyes are shining with tears. "Please Katniss. I'm trying to be your friend. I'm trying to make this easier and I can't do that when you won't even be honest with me."

"I'm sorry," I say, my words almost inaudible. He just sighs in frustration and lets go of me. I collapse into a chair. He's right of course. When is he not?

It was only the first stop of the tour. It was supposed to be relatively uneventful. We were supposed to read the usual spiel, stick to the comments that Effie had written. We were supposed to start convincing Panem (and Snow) of our love. We were not supposed to get people killed. We were not supposed to start uprisings.

Once we came inside, I started to hyperventilate while Peeta comforted me. Haymitch explained the situation to Peeta whose confusion made way to anger. I couldn't blame him could I? I had promised him honesty. And yet I had lied. Haymitch and I had kept him out of the loop. Again.

"What do we do now?" Peeta finally asks. I know that he is addressing Haymitch but he is looking firmly at me.

"We sit tight," Haymitch says. He gulps down the last dregs of his drink – we've only been inside for a couple of minutes and already he managed to grab some alcohol.

Effie enters at this point and she looks more on edge than usual. Haymitch notices it too and is quick to question. "Give us the bad news then."

"Snow has called off the tour."

I rocket out of my seat to face Effie. "What – what are you talking about?"

Even Haymitch is confused. He sets his glass down. "That's never happened before."

Effie simply shakes her head and drops the clipboard she carries around everywhere into a nearby bin. For the first time, I actually feel sorry for Effie Trinket. She got stuck with us in the first place, and now her time to shine, a tour conducted underneath her instruction, is gone. But while that part of me feels regret, the rest of me is still processing this information.

Snow has called off the tour. He has seen what happened in District 11 today and fears what will happen if we keep the tour going into other districts. In his eyes, we have failed before we have even started. Which means everyone, including me, is in that much more danger than we were before.

I stare at Haymitch, hoping he can tell what I'm thinking. I'm thinking about my family and Gale. I'm fearing for their safety. I hope Haymitch can understand me like he can most times.

He does. He gives a sigh and nods at me, heading into the other room to send a call back to District 12 to ensure their safety.

Effie does her best to perk up, grabbing both Peeta and me. "Let's get back on the train okay. Get some rest and see what happens."

With little resistance, we let her lead us back to the train. She tells us that she is going to nurse the terrible headache she feels coming on and leaves us in the dining carriage. It's still early but I decide to go to bed. To my surprise, Peeta follows me to my room.

"What are you doing?" I ask him wearily.

He motions to the bed. "Lie down." I do and he sits down next to me. Despite myself, I snuggle into his side. He wraps his arms around me and I feel my lack of sleep catching up with me. Marrying Peeta will not be so bad I tell myself. Peeta is my relief. He is my safe harbour.

"We're gonna be okay," he says, stroking the top of my head.

When he says this, I almost believe him.

I must have dozed off because when I open my eyes, it is much darker than it was before. In his arms, I was unharmed by nightmares. But he is no longer next to me. I run my hand over the sheet and the place he once occupied. I can hear the low buzz of a television down the hall so I climb out of bed and travel towards the noise. Effie, Haymitch and Peeta are sitting in front of the television, their eyes practically glued to the screen. I swear, none of them are even blinking.

"What's going on?" I ask, fixing my gaze on the television. One of The Capitol advertisements is playing and the anthem is blaring in the background.

Peeta turns around to look at me but he is the only one. No one answers me. I frown, waiting a little longer but they still are not speaking. Finally Haymitch coughs.

"They just aired an emergency broadcast in The Capitol."

"And?" I know already that it's bad. I know that and their silence speaks louder than anything they could say. But I need some kind of literal answer. Before I snap. "And?"

No answer. "Peeta?" Still nothing. "Effie?" Even Effie doesn't have the heart to speak. Her lips are pursed and her knuckles are white from gripping the remote in her hands. She looks more frazzled than I have ever seen her.

"Haymitch please." I know Haymitch will tell me. He has never been one to sugarcoat things. His hand is poised in the air, holding a broken glass. I can see he has smashed it against the table, the liquid once inside it dripping down the table legs.

"They've moved up the Games. The Quell will be held in five days instead."

So we only have a short time to prepare ourselves and the tributes we will be mentoring. That's bad but it still doesn't explain the frozen, sad expression on their faces.

He finally looks at me and his eyes are bloodshot. "They're only reaping existing victors."

It takes me a while but I connect the dots.

Only past victors will be going back into the games. A male and a female. Haymitch or Peeta.

And me.