The drive to my house is longer then it should have been. The air between Peeta and I is heavy and silent.

Fear of the unknown constantly surges throughout my head and runs through my veins.

"Were almost there" Peeta stumbles out. I let my silence be a answer as we turn another corner. As we get closer, my blood gets colder. My nervous, pale fingers lightly drum on my knee as my eyes wonder around 'my neighborhood'. As we approach each house I wonder if its mine.

Too soon we pull into a dirty crumbling driveway.

We sit in the car for a couple moments before I break the silence.

"Thank you for the ride".

"Dont you want me to go with you inside?" He wonders out loud, his blue eyes pleading for me to say yes.

"Im sorry, but one less unfamiliar thing wil be best for me right now. I want to do this alone". I leave out the part that I am about to break down again and would rather do it alone.

His blue eyes lose mine and he gives a sad nod.

I slip out of the car, turning to give peeta a slight wave, and instantly regretting it. Slow, silent tears spill down his cheeks and the twisted look of pain, sadness and heartbreak is enough to make any person crumble. I cant take it. I sprint inside and slam the door as I listen to Peetas car pull out of the drive way.

My eyes squeeze together, blocking out everything around me. When I open my eyes, Prim will be standing in front of me, mom will be reading her book, dad will be making tea, and I will recognize my own house.

However, my hollow grey eyes reveal a cold, empty, grey house. A ball of sadness I have been working so hard to ignore shoves its way up to the surface. I collapse on the floor and let myself grieve.

~~~~

PEETAS POV

~~~~

Slap.

It's not nearly as painful.

Slap.

Its making me forget.

Slap

For once in my life, my mother's abuse is not the most painful thing in my life.

"Thats what you get for being home so late! You have no respect for your family! You're a stupid, worthless boy!" My mother repeatedly yells in my ear.

Slap

"Now get out of my sight, you pathetic excuse for a son!" She screams as the last slap is brought down upon my face.

My numb body snakes upstairs and crawls into my bedroom.

I fall onto my bed with one heavy thought lingering in my mind. Katniss. The pain inside me is too much to bare. As a choking noise escapes me I throw a punch into my pillow. Frustration angrily bubbles up inside me. Im so helpless in this situation. All I can do is wait while Katniss suffers alone.

~~~~

KATNISS'S POV

~~~~

When I awake, I have no memory of the previous night. Although thats apparently not the only thing I have no memory of.

All I know is that it contained a lot of tears.

I force myself to stand. Apparently I only made it about one step into the house last night.

Its simple. A little kitchen, living room, and one bathroom. Its all normal until I take one step up the rickety old stairs. The smell is the first thing that hits me. Its sweet, just like roses. Just like Prim.

My heart and head give up right then and there. However, my legs surge on.

When I come to the first room, I brace myself. Im not sure what I was expecting when I opened the door. I wasn't expecting green walls and white curtains. My room. It almost seemed familiar. Almost.

Its strange, walking into something that you've been living in, that you designed, and not being able to recognize a single damn thing.

I walk over to the side table and pick up a picture frame. Its small, but beautiful. All my insides twist together into a ball of pain. This is the worst kind of pain. A pain that can't be fixed with bandages.

I sit on my bed, cupping the picture frame in my hands. In the frame, is a old, dusty photo of Prim, mom, dad and I. It must have been taken ages ago.

I flop backwards and stare at the ceiling. Hours must have passed before I force myself to sit up. I look over at the same side table and see more pictures. However, I dont recognize these ones. Theres a couple of Annie, Johanna, and what was his name? Frederick? Finni? Something like that. However, all over my room, theres countless photos of Peeta and I. All these photos make the room seem unfamiliar again and make me remember about my second life that I've forgotten. I grab every photo of them I can find and shove them into a empty box.

With a grunt, I pick up the box. Im on my way downstairs when I see it. Her room.

I drop the box out of surprise, sending the photos flying everywhere. I barely even notice, too focused on the pink room infront of me. I step over the mess I've created and push open the door. My lips quiver as I take in my surroundings. Everything screams Prim. How am I supposed to live without her, when shes practically living in this house still?

I grab one of the stuffed ducks from her bed, and lay my head down on the fluffy pillow. Before I realize it, slow hot tears trickle down my cheeks.

Im suddenly interrupted by a excited meow. My head snaps up to find a disappointed buttercup.

He gives me a look, as if hes asking where she is.

A new wave of tears comes to the surface.

I sit on the ground next to the old cat. "Shes not coming back" I sob, as if the words really made it real.

Buttercup rubs his head against my hand. Which is surprisingly extremely comforting. Im so thankful for this one familiar thing in this world full of crazines.