"Peeta."

"Dad?"

The little boy sits in a bakery, his father sits down next to him at a wooden table next to an oven. The lovely scent of freshly-made bread floats in the air around them. The father of the boy is a large man, with light hair and caring eyes. He pats his son's shoulder approvingly, then speaks to him in his deep voice,

"I know that I don't tell you this enough, but I just want you to know that you really are something special. In times like these, you never know what the future may bring, but you deserve to live in a better world than this one. Your mother is just... bitter. She thinks you aren't good enough for this world, but promise me right now that, whatever happens, you will never change."

"I promise Dad."

"Good. Maybe the odds are on our side."

The little boy jumps out of the chair to wrap his scrawny arms around his father, the father pats his blonde head lovingly.

"I know I don't tell you this enough either, but I do love you, Peeta."

"I love you too Dad."

The bakery turns into a fiery mass of destruction, everything is burning, the sky is raining fire. The boy is older now, ripping through the debris at the entrance of his home. He screams at the broken windows, pounding the walls that are still standing. He shouts at the mess, hopeful that his family that resides in there is still alive, but it's doubtful that they are. His despair turns into violent rage. He kicks the piles of wood, and barges into the door until the flaming wall falls on top of him. The flames catch onto his skin, sizzling away up and down his arms and face. It stings like crazy, but he doesn't move, he just lets the flames consume him.

-

I'm not dead. I'm back in a hospital bed. I blink away all of the dreams. I lift my hands to rub my eyes, and when I do, I notice my left hand is all patched up with bandages. It's for the burns. I try to sit up, but there is a strap over my waist that is keeping me down. I look down at it in confusion.

"It's just a precaution. I'll take it off in a little bit. You got a little crazy in your sleep, we weren't sure what you were going to do."

I look up to see a man, I assume he's a doctor from the look of his outfit.

"I believe we've never actually met, but you might've seen me around in District 13. I'm Dr. Aurelius, your head doctor. It was I who observed your condition and came up with the methods to try and help you. I was very busy with other patients so you probably met with Dr. Salvo most of the time."

Now that I think about it, I think that I have seen him around before. With the nurses while I was being medicated, talking with to Dr. Salvo after sessions of therapy. I guess I never really paid any real attention, because of how confused I was at the time.

"Can you... tell me what happened...exactly?" I ask him.

Dr Aurelius sits down on a chair across from my bed. I notice now that there are two other hospital beds in the room, but I'm the only one in one.

"There was a double explosion at the City Circle, you were badly burned. The war is over, the Capitol has fallen. President Snow is now a prisoner awaiting trail, and Alma Coin has taken the position of Panem's leader temporarily."

"Cressida, Pollux, Gale, Katniss... did they survive?"

"Yes, they're alright. Cressida and Pollux are off filming a few things for Plutarch, Gale survived two bullet wounds and he's helping everyone clean up all the messes, and Katniss is in deep recovery."

"Is she okay?"

Dr. Aurelius looks down at his folded hands, then looks back up at me apologetically.

"She is very much alive, but she was badly burned as well, unfortunately her sister was a victim of the explosion." He says.

"Prim was there? She was actually... there?" I ask, remembering how I saw her run past me while my mind was racing with questioning reality, then how I searched for her after I told myself it wasn't real, and I never found her. I can't imagine how she must feel about Prim's death.

"Yes, she was. Is there a problem?"

"I thought I saw her, but there was so much chaos and my mind was just... freaking out so much, I didn't know if it was really her. I didn't know if it was real."

"I see, this is another reason why you should stay here for a little while, we can continue the treatment we'd been giving you until it was interrupted by Coin's order to send you off. I'm sure the recent traumas have put you in quite a shock, we'll need to prescribe some new medications."

I remember that they told me Coin sent me off because they wanted to show that I was on their side in the propos. At the time I believed them, I wanted to go because I wanted to do something about the war and I didn't know how dangerous I really was. I realize now that they could've filmed propos of me in District 13, I didn't have to go to Squad 451 which was, ironically, Katniss's squad. Why she would send me off to Katniss knowing that I could've killed her again, I don't know. Maybe, like Snow and the Gamemakers, she didn't like how unpredictable and uncontrollable Katniss is. Whatever reason she has, it's not a good one to me.

I have a long burn on my left hand going all the way up to my shoulder. There's splotches of burns on my left side, a big one on my neck, then there's a line of it across my forehead. Parts of my eyebrows have been singed off.

I'm not sure how much time passes when they heal. The doctors lay cold washcloths on them, apply ointment, some of the patches of melted skin need new cells. I find myself locked in a room once again. I realize now that they still don't trust me, they still think I'm insane. A couple times I thrashed at them, but that was only from the horrifying nightmares that would wake me up. It's no doubt that they must've seen how I acted in the Capitol, when I unknowingly murdered Mitchell...

Another questionable amount of time passes. At first I just laid on my bed while the burns still stung. The nurses visited me often to tend them, but they barely talked to me at all. In all of the isolation, all of the recent horrors caught up to me. All of the destruction and gore before the explosion, with all those dead bodies of innocent refugees who only wanted safety. Then all of the deaths we endured just trying to get there. Boggs' legs blowing off, Messalla's skin melting off, Finnick being decapitated by those monstrous mutations, and that's not even all of it.

It's unbelievable, to think that one minute I was there, in the camp with Squad 451, with Finnick and all the other squad members. Now I'm here, by myself in the president's mansion, surprisingly not dead with the rest of them. The guilt is unbearable, but when Dr. Aurelius visits me, I pretend that it's not a problem.

When they finally unstrap me, Haymitch visits. His familiar alcoholic stench immediately hits my nose. For the longest time I'd been bitter towards him for being a liar and betrayer, but right now, with all of it finally over, I don't know if I care anymore. Maybe I just don't have the strength the care.

"Hello Peeta," Haymitch says.

"Hey."

"How are ya doing?"

"Fine."

"Well, Coin asked for you to meet with her in the president's meeting room. I'm supposed to go too, so I'll go with ya."

We don't speak while we walk through the halls to the meeting room. I stare down at the wooden floor until Haymitch breaks the silence,

"Hey, listen. I just wants to apologize about everything that's happened and... all of the things I'd done before."

"It's fine, Haymitch. It's over. It doesn't matter anymore."

I keep my eyes on the floor. I can feel Haymitch staring at me, but I don't look up. We finally enter the meeting room. President Coin sits in one of the chairs that surround a large round table. The center of it is empty, as if something is supposed to be there as a decoration. Occupying one other chair at the table is Enobaria. The last time I saw her, I was in the Quarter Quell, and I was planning to electrocute her in the water with the others. Then there's Johanna, who purposely ignores Enobaria and Coin by staring out the window in the corner of the room.

Coin welcomes us, and we sit down at the table. I pick at the peeling skin on my hand while more people join us. Beetee wheels himself in, not needing to take a seat, and Annie, whose sad expression painfully reminds me of Finnick, then finally Katniss.

I feel like I should say something, but I can't bring myself to do it. I don't know what I would say, and she doesn't look like she wants to speak to me. The last time we spoke was before all the chaos in the streets of the Capitol. I squeeze my eyes shut at the unpleasant memories, begging them to disappear. I stare out the window while the others talk and situate themselves in their seats.

When Coin closes the door and sits down in her seat, she gazes at all of us with a light smirk on her face. I guess she's enjoying her power, it doesn't look like anything from the war has effected her at all.

"I've asked you here to settle a debate," She says. "Today we will execute Snow. In previous weeks, hundreds of his accomplices in the oppression of Panem have been tried and now await their own deaths. However, the suffering in the districts has been so extreme that these measures appear insufficient to the victims. In fact, many are calling for a complete annihilation of those who held Capitol citizenship. However, in the interest of maintaining a sustainable population, we cannot afford this."

My eyes travel over to where Katniss sits, they gaze over her grey eyes until briefly, they meet, then I flit them away back to Coin. It's as if we're back to the beginning, when we didn't even know each other.

"So, an alternative has been placed on the table. Since my colleagues and I can come to no consensus, it has been agreed that we will let the victors decide. A majority of four will approve the plan. No one may abstain from the vote," Coin goes on. "What has been proposed is that in lieu of eliminating the entire Capitol population, we have a final, symbolic Hunger Games, using the children directly related to those who held the most power."

"What?" Johanna says.

"We hold another Hunger Games using Capitol Children," repeats Coin.

I almost fall out my seat. Another Hunger Games? After all of this? That is what started the uprisings in the first place. This whole time I'd been fueled by the idea of a world without a Hunger Games, that idea is what kept me going, that idea is what I was willing to die for. I'm pretty sure that's the idea everyone was willing to die for. Forget revenge and punishment, that's how they started the Hunger Games seventy-five years ago. Whatever anger there is for balance can die down if it's just left alone.

"Are you joking?" I ask.

"No. I should also tell you that if we do hold the Games, it will be known it was done with your approval, although the individual breakdown of your votes will be kept secret for your own security," Coin says.

"Was this Plutarch's idea?" asks Haymitch.

"It was mine," says Coin. "It seemed to balance the need for vengeance with the least loss of life. You may cast your votes."

"No!" I tell her. "I vote no, of course! We can't have another Hunger Games!"

I look around at the other victors to see if they can see how ridiculous this is.

"Why not?" Johanna retorts. "It seems very fair to me. Snow even has a granddaughter. I vote yes."

"So do I," Enobaria adds, sounding a little questionable. "Let them have a taste of their own medicine."

"This is why we rebelled! Remember?" I look around at the others, searching for some bit of understanding, but they only stare at me with dubious expressions. I turn to my right,

"Annie?"

"I vote no with Peeta," she says. "So would Finnick if he were here."

"But he isn't, because Snow's mutts killed him," Johanna replies.

I want to smile at Annie, but when she brings up Finnick I can only look down.

"No," says Beetee. "It would set a bad precedent. We have to stop viewing one another as enemies. At this point, unity is essential for our survival. No."

I lean back, finally some valid reasoning.

"We're down to Katniss and Haymitch," says Coin.

I look over at them, thinking it's an easy option, but they both look unsure. I hunch forward in my seat, searching for Katniss' eyes. There a certain fire in them, an angry one. Then nothing but sadness.

"I vote yes... for Prim." she finally says.

Coin nods, "Haymitch, it's up to you,"

I rub my eyes stressfully, then stare down my old mentor.

"Come on Haymitch..." I mutter at him. He seems to ignore me, only watching Katniss, as if they have some connection of understanding.

"I'm with the Mockingjay," he says.

I sigh heavily, Coin just nods,

"Excellent. That carries the vote. Now we really must take our places for the execution."

I get up out of my seat, and leave the room without a single glance at the others. Before I meet my guard who will escort me back to my room, Johanna comes up behind me and pats my shoulder.

"Why the long face? Didn't like how that turned out huh?" She snickers.

"No, it's not the best thing to do for this country after all we've done."

Johanna stares at me straight in the eyes,

"Think about it this way, maybe that asshole who humiliated me and beat the shit out of you has a daughter." Then she walks away.

I stare at the floor, I know she's talking about the peacekeeper who tortured me after I told him to leave her alone. He'd kick me against the walls and shout at me about how useless I was, then laugh at my misery. I was beaten until I couldn't take it any longer, then I would just lie on the cold floor in pain, with no access to anything or anyone that could help me. As I'm escorted back to my room, I shiver at the memories of those long hours. Even after all of that, that man's daughter in a Hunger Games would not make me feel better.

I hated him, I hated him a lot, but I wouldn't wish anything as bad as the Hunger Games upon any child he may have, no matter how evil he may be. I think of my mother, who could say nothing but insults to me, who did not hesitate to slap me hard across the face. But my father always said that everyone has at least one good quality about them, evil isn't as powerful as we think.

My mother didn't deserve to die the way she did.