There was some point in time where I wondered what ever happened to my prep team and my stylist. I faintly remember someone telling me they were killed, but never saying when, how, or why. I remember assuming it was my fault, because they were linked to me, and I was one of the criminals from the Quarter Quell. I remember lots of people being killed because of me.

Strangers enter my room to prep me for the execution. I am one of the victors, so I'm supposed to stand with the others while Snow is executed. As I'd heard before, Katniss had demanded to be the one who would execute Snow.

They give me nice clothes, nice enough to show the glory of a victor. The only makeup they apply is some to cover the worst parts of the healing burns on my face.

I'm escorted out to the City Circle to stand with the other victors. Citizens gather around as we wait for Snow and Katniss to arrive. Coin stands high up in front of us on a balcony, looking giddy with power. They strap Snow to a post in front of us, as if he'd have anywhere to go. Roars of the crowd tell me that Katniss has arrived, and I look over to see her as she strides down the City Circle. She stops next me, and I can see the dramatic makeup they've applied onto her face to match the fierce Mockingjay outfit. Coin makes a short speech about the "New Panem" and how Katniss will make one last shot that will "end all wars."

Katniss grasps an arrow, positions it, bends back the bow, aims, concentrates, then fires. But the arrow does not hit Snow. President Coin plunges over the side of the balcony, with the arrow stuck right into her heart.

I stare back at Katniss, who looks stunned herself. She goggles at what's she's done, at Coins dead body, at Snow's enthusiastic cackling that hacks out what's left of his life, and the guards starting to advance toward her. In the moments that follow, I know exactly what she intends to do next.

She raises her left arm to bring the nightlock pill pocket closer to her mouth so she can rip it out with her mouth. But as she moves her neck down to get it, I shove my hand over the pocket, and her teeth sinks into my skin. Katniss tries to shove me away but I hold on. As my bleeding hand grasps the nightlock pill, my other one wrestles her arm down. She glares at me with a conflicted look.

"Let me go!" She snarls.

"I can't," I say. Somehow I know that I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I let Katniss Everdeen die when there was something I could do about it.

The pocket rips off of her sleeve under my hand, and it drops onto the ground where it's trampled. Katniss glares at me while the guards drag her away.

People aggressively push past me, they go both ways so I'm trapped. There are loud roars of angry shouts and fearful noises as the City Circle piles up with more people. I clutch onto my bleeding hand, tearing through the crowd. The splintering pain and the panicky feeling bring back bad flashbacks.

No, not here. Not now.

Both of my hands raise up to my ears, the hot blood from my right hand smears onto my ear.

Someone slams into me, and I fall down with both hands covering my ears. I sense whoever it was coming back.

"Get away from me!" I shout at them.

I didn't realize my eyes were shut, and when I open them, I see a woman stares at me with widened eyes. A few people behind her just gasp at me in fear.

"I'm a mutt! I'm a mutt! Get away!" I scream at them.

They all back away fearfully, and hands grasp my arms from behind. A needle pierces into my shoulder, and the last thing I see are the terrified looks of the citizens around me.

-

Katniss is awaiting trial, but Paylor will no doubt win the election and pardon her quietly, she will be okay, Plutarch tells me. They had Dr Aurelius, who is also her doctor, announce to the public that she was just some mad girl that didn't know what she was doing. She will be confined for a short amount of time, then they will send her home. I ask him when I will be able to go home, and he answers saying that he doesn't know, that's up to my doctors.

I ask Dr. Aurelius the same question, he says that it's currently unknown. He thinks I should stay in mental health care for a while, but I protest,

"Don't I seem normal enough?" I ask.

"It's not that simple, Peeta." He replies. "You still have tracker jacker venom inside you, and the effect it has on you will take awhile to go away, if it even does. It's very powerful stuff, hard to control. There's still treatments that need to be done. You still have trouble remembering things correct?"

I do, but I don't answer.

"You need a break Peeta, everything that has happened to you just came right after each other. Do you really think that going back to District 12 and living next door to Katniss Everdeen would be the best thing to do right now? Do you yourself believe that you are stable? That you can control everything you feel, and you know what is real and what is not?"

I stare at my blistered fingers. I wish I could say yes, but I can't. I'm not a liar. I know he's being nice by not bringing up what happened in the City Circle, but I think about it anyway.

"No." I tell him.

A hideous word bounces back from my memory. The word I was shouting at the people. A name that Katniss had once called me.

Mutt.

I'm still the raging uncontrollable monster that the Capitol created. I am still Snow's prisoner, and only I can truly break free from it, but it's not easy.

"You'll need to stay here in mental health care for a little awhile, I'm sure you'll get better. You'll be home soon enough."

During the next few weeks, I constantly ask about Katniss. They keep telling me that she's still awaiting trail, until one day Dr. Aurelius tells me that they're finally sending her home. Paylor finally pardoned her.

"What happened to the unstable excuse?" I ask him.

"I've agreed to treat her over the phone from her home in District 12." He answers.

"Why can't you do that for me?"

Dr. Aurelius sighs. "That's not permitted. It wouldn't work very well Peeta. Your condition is more... complex."

When he sees my agitated expression, he lays a hand on one of my shoulders,

"You will go home eventually, Peeta. We only want to help you get better."

So I sit through their sessions, I take their medications, and I live in a tiny room with nothing threatening enough to be a weapon. More of my memories come back, and they do their best to get rid of the venom flowing through my veins. They tell me that the episodes might never stop, fear is sometimes impossible to overcome. I've gotten better at controlling it, but sometimes I'm reminded of the horrors, or when I'm alone in my room, the flashbacks come back, and I never know what my dreams will become.

Many weeks pass, every night before bed I go to my bathroom and when I see my grim reflection, I see the same person I saw weeks ago. When I see this, I wonder to myself, am I really getting better? But sometimes I wonder if I even know who it is looking back at me.

What is it that I see? Who is it that I see?

I see Peeta Mellark, the baker's son who survived the Hunger Games, the Quarter Quell, the barbaric torture of the Capitol, and all of the deadly horrors that the Capitol could muster for the war.

And now what's left? A broken boy with a destroyed home, a dead family, a lost love, fake memories, and emotions that he can't even control.

I remember an old belief I used to have, before the Capitol hijacked my mind. I always saw some things or some people that were so messed up that they seemed beyond repair, but I kept telling myself that anything broken can be remade.

-